Because people in the zone are less resistant and more receptive to you and your ideas
The Consent Zone is where you’ll set the tone and mood for a no-blows argument. It’s a virtual finessing place where you’ll be able to elicit change without eliciting defensiveness, where you’ll hit the ground walking. Where you’ll manage the other person’s emotions, not avoid them.
In this chapter, you’ll discover how to construct a Consent Zone.
Within days of my reporting aboard for duty, the USS Helena set sail for Yokosuka, Japan. In anticipation of joyous nights to come, the crew posted a giant photograph of Yokosuka’s Country Plus Bar in their bunkroom. The sign outside the bar read “Beers Cold, Women Ready, Whisky.”
My job was to persuade the men to stay away from the “for-you-a-special-price” girls. There I was, 22 years old, newly minted ensign, a never-been-there/never-done-that Navy veteran of two weeks, lecturing about venereal disease and life in the fast lane. Any knowledge I had on the subject was limited to an 11th-grade glance-through “reading” of Henrik Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler.
I started to deliver my talk in quasi-clinical terms—reserved, the way a nervous father might talk to his son. I’d taken classes in public speaking and knew my message had been delivered with succinctness and clarity. In college, I would’ve been disappointed with less than an A for what I believed was an exemplary effort. But I wasn’t in class, and Krieger, a salty boatswain’s mate with 20 years in the Navy, motioned me aside and strongly suggested that he do the talking.
Krieger was able to identify with the men, and he broke through in a way I never could: “There’ll be a lot of good-time girls waiting for you in Yokosuka, but I don’t want you to touch those girls even if you’re wearing two rubbers. If anybody comes back scratching, I’ll personally pop them in the snot locker (Navy-speak for nose).”
A marketing and consulting firm cautioned Baby Boomers to be ready for the fade-out of 20th-century icons, explaining that young people’s needs are different. They’ve shared different experiences and have a whole new cast of heroes.
Less than half of 1 percent of people under the age of 25 name the Beatles, Bob Marley, or Jimi Hendrix among their favorite performers.
Elvis is marketed as a young, rebellious innovator by the Presley estate. One rock critic didn’t pull any punches when he observed that today kids care about what’s cool. And what’s not cool are tourist buses filled with fat old people coming to Graceland to worship Elvis.
When I was a single guy, “dating” described an intimate relationship. But then came the yuppies who stopped calling it “dating.” I can understand their thinking. “Dating” does sound like something from Paleontology 101: “I am dating Bev.” The yuppies replaced “dating” with “going out.” People with an intimate relationship were “going out.” “Going out” isn’t used as a frame of reference by today’s singles, and has been superceded by “seeing” someone, as in “I am seeing Bev.”
It’s not good marketing to have someone in a pinstripe talking to young people. That’s how a MasterCard vice president explained why City Kids produced the rap video “Master Your Future” for MasterCard. The video, which is shown in high schools throughout the country, explains why maintaining a good credit history is “cool.”
For Ricky Ricardo, an “Ay yi yi yi yi” and a slap to his forehead said it all. Think “Lucy.” Immediately you remember her for her celebrity hounding. Her off-key singing and constant scheming. And for her Ethel-befriending, Desi-imitating ways.
But Lucy Ricardo should also be remembered as TV’s first feminist. A television historian wrote that I Love Lucy showed us something that we had never seen before on TV: that “women express themselves differently from men. They tend to focus on emotions; they seek consensus, not conflict; they disclose more of themselves in conversation; they emphasize the personal, not the impersonal.”
Cultural challenges. Language challenges. Personality challenges. Gender challenges. Age challenges. Perception challenges. Who should run the course? Should it be you? Or someone with whom the other person can identify? Or maybe someone else altogether?
Television history is dotted with long-running series that were not critically acclaimed. These shows, however, provided viewers with a star that audiences wanted in their homes for a long time and with whom they felt “really comfortable,” commented the president of CBS Entertainment.
The cosmetic area of a department store can be intimidating and overwhelming. Estée Lauder “Beauty Advisors” are taught to turn browsers into buyers by quickly constructing a Consent Zone. They are coached to start with an icebreaker instead of the usual “May I help you?”: “I just love what you’re wearing.” “Is the weather still nice outside?”
Are you more comfortable with someone who exudes optimism and enthusiasm, and has a laid-back way, or someone who is forever fretting?
Alex was a professional hypochondriac. I was his lawyer, not his doctor, but nonetheless during 20 years or so, our every conference would be preceded by Alex reciting a litany of his aches and pains. Alex’s venting left me feeling uncomfortable. When he died at age 80, a member of my staff suggested that Alex’s gravestone read “See! I told you I was sick!”
We all have problems. Truth is, my problems will never seem as big to you as they do to me. Nor will they ever seem as interesting, as engrossing, or as dramatic to you as they do to me. If I spend more than a few seconds laying my problems on you, you’ll find being with me an uncomfortable experience.
Comfortable people are more apt to be receptive to you and your argument, to hang in there and fully hear you out, to track and consider your suggestions and reasoning.
Words of wisdom for the terminally professional: Yes, it’s important to come across as knowledgeable, professional, and serious about your work. But there’s a difference between being serious about what you do and being serious about who you are. The former is appreciated. The latter is not. Take yourself lightly; be able to laugh at yourself. See the potential for humor and creativity in every situation.
Not being a know-it-all means hearing what the other fellow has to say. He may surprise you with an idea you really like.
If you’ve ever been to San Diego, you’ve seen the El Cortez Hotel. The city’s one-time crown jewel is a downtown landmark. It’s easily recognized because although the El Cortez is an older hotel, it has an outdoor glass elevator that is consistent with much newer architecture. Before the glass elevator, the hotel only had a single interior elevator to shuttle guests between their rooms and the lobby.
Remodeling experts said the only thing that could be done to add a second elevator was to cut holes in each floor and install one. It was a plan that would have entailed a huge expense and lost income while the hotel was closed for construction. A hotel janitor mopping floors overheard the experts talking. “Why not build the elevator on the outside of the hotel?” he asked. It had never been done before, nor had the architects and engineers even considered such an idea until then. Outdoor elevators are now very much a part of the architectural scene. But the one at the El Cortez was first!
“IF GOD HADN’T MADE ME SO BEAUTIFUL, I’D BE A TEACHER.”
—SUPERMODEL LINDA EVANGELISTA
Tulane Law School’s dean confided to me, “The trouble with young professionals, particularly newly minted lawyers and MBAs from top schools, is that they are often as smug as they are bright. They talk down to other people as if they had the seasoning that only comes from years of hands-on experience.”
Take the case of a brilliant 25-year-old. He was called a “Wall Street Wizard.” After he was profiled in a New York Times article as one of the “faces of the New York economy,” he was asked to resign from the elite investment banking firm Morgan Stanley.
Describing himself in the interview as young and affluent, he listed among his personal extravagances expensive electronic equipment, a Rolex watch, and a closetful of custom-made suits. So why the sudden resignation? The whiz kid broke his employer’s strict code of conduct that frowns on self-aggrandizing lifestyle interviews and personal profiles.
It’s not only gray flannel firms such as Morgan Stanley that discourage blatant horn-tooting. Most people react negatively to would-be persuaders who grab opportunities to brag and boast.
You may be brilliant in your field—God’s gift to law, medicine, real estate, gourmet cooking—but don’t wear your brilliance on your sleeve. It won’t win you arguments—only resentment as a know-it-all.
Don’t accept your dog’s admiration as conclusive evidence that you’re wonderful. Are you as brilliant as you’d like to believe? Here’s the test: Think 10 years in the future. Will you know a lot then that you don’t know now thanks to 10 more years of experience and learning? If so, now pause to consider how much you have yet to learn. Did you find the test humbling?
When someone else blows your horn, the sound is twice as loud. The art of subtle self-promotion is quoting clients and customers, or associates whom they know or whose reputation they respect. It’s weaving real-life stories and case studies into your argument. Instead of proclaiming “We’re the fastest-growing company in our field,” say something more easily digested. For example, “It’s not a mere accident that we’re the fastest-growing company in our field. The reason is….” It’s giving credit to associates and others who’ve helped you achieve success.
Know when to cool it. No one is ever truly influenced by a know-it-all. Or even worse, a full-of-yourself tell-it-all. Let the other guy discover for himself why he should buy into your argument from your stories and experiential anecdotes and from the praise that others have for you.
When I was about 16, I got my first “real job”—summer stockboy and sometimes salesboy (only when all the salesmen were busy) at a small men’s store.
My boss, Helen Bundy, had never owned a store, nor had she ever had a job selling. She opened her shop because of a vacancy in her family’s building. Long Beach, California, was a Navy town, and somehow a men’s store made good sense.
Helen had a passion for her merchandise and it showed. She would greet a customer walking toward the suits, saying “Let me show you this great-looking new suit!” Helen then invited the prospect to feel the buttery texture of the gabardine or the softness of the wool flannel. Tossing a suit over her arm, Helen would dash to the dress shirt counter. “Can you believe how great this suit looks with this shirt and tie?”
What I learned about selling I learned from Helen Bundy. I would consistently run “high book,” outselling the store’s old pros who would ask, “You’re looking for something in a suit? Are you interested in a solid color? A stripe? A glen plaid? Something in blue? Something in brown?”
The old pros were clueless. Lackluster guys with a lackluster style who never picked up on Helen’s powerful secret: Enthusiasm is something you can feel right down to your toes. It’s contagious. It sells. It seduces. It excites.
Is that an ab machine collecting dust in your garage? And up there on your kitchen shelf…what is that—a Chop-o-Matic? A Dial-o-Matic? A Veg-o-Matic? A Mince-o-Matic? Did you buy it through an infomercial, use it a couple of times, and then store it away? Or worse, never use it at all?
It’s no wonder. You can’t miss them and they’re hard to resist—those bouncy, in-your-face infomercials that extol the virtues of everything from a Mr. Megamemory course to GLH Formula Number 9 Hair Thickener. And of course there is that studio audience—those regular-looking folks who are often paid to feign enthusiasm.
My brother-in-law, Dr. Eliot Phillipson, was invited by his son’s elementary school teacher to participate in a class program on “what people do.” Later, Eliot wrote an article about his experience in the University of Toronto’s Department of Medicine’s newsletter. From Eliot’s article:
“I decided to speak about scientific research and to demonstrate how it is done. The students were extremely enthusiastic about the presentation and overflowed with questions and ideas for ‘future research.’ I was quite confident that, when put to a vote, most of the students would opt for a career in biomedical research. A few weeks later the teacher informed me that when the students voted on what they would like to do in the future, biomedical research was ranked second. Ranked first was the retailing of double-glazed windows! The children had been tremendously impressed by the parent who was in the business of manufacturing, distributing, and installing double-glazed windows. A cynic might argue that the ‘double-glazed parent’ was merely a smooth, glossy salesman. But his key to winning over the students was an infectious interest in the subject, which he shared with clarity, and enthusiasm, and relevance.”
Inspired enthusiasm is contagious. If you’re not enthusiastic about the merits of your argument, your lack of conviction will be both apparent and contagious.
As everyone knows, Diana, Princess of Wales, and the man with whom she finally found happiness, Dodi Fayed, were killed when their chauffeur-driven Mercedes hit pole 13 in a Paris underpass.
Dodi Fayed was a longtime client of mine. I found him to be a likeable guy who was always appreciative of the work I did for him. Dodi’s gratitude was shown in many different ways. Sometimes it was a simple “thank you.” At other times it was a smoked salmon he had specially flown in from Scotland or a gigantic food package shipped from Harrods, his family’s store in London.
A few months before his death, he asked me to negotiate the purchase of a home—Julie Andrews’s former Malibu beachfront compound. It was an enormous task that came to fruition just before Diana and Dodi became lovers.
Dodi needed to know that he and Di would be able to enjoy their Malibu days free from intrusive paparazzi. Extra security had been put in place, and more was being planned. There was even talk of Dodi acquiring two Rottweiler guard dogs, one of whom he would name “Bob.”
Appreciation can take many forms. Dodi somehow knew that I would have been pleased to share my name with a guard dog, and I told him so just a few days before he was killed.
I once overheard a handful of our firm’s younger lawyers visiting with each other. The topic: Who were their favorite clients? The ones they worry about long after they’ve left the office for the night? Their answer: the clients who thanked them for their hard work and who praised them for their victories, big and small.
Compliments are like potato chips. After you’ve eaten one, you have an urge for more. People tend to live up to the compliments they receive.
Tip: General appreciation (“Good presentation, Aaron”) comes across merely as an expression of good manners. Specific appreciation (“Aaron, I was particularly impressed with the way your presentation compared…”) sounds less manipulative and more believable.
Some may call it sucking up or brownnosing. Others will call it strategic ingratiation. Whatever you call it, stroking works. Like it or not, kissies are the ones who are more likely to get ahead. Everyone has the basic human desire to be liked. A key to influencing outcomes is to make the other guy really think you like him, teaches a University of Minnesota psychologist.
The truth is we have trouble not liking someone who makes a fuss over us.
1. If you can’t sound sincere when sucking up, then don’t even try.
2. Only suck up to people who are just a stone’s throw up the company’s organizational chart from you. Praising your immediate supervisor, when deserved, is fine. A mailroom clerk laying it on for the CEO sounds too much like the script of the Broadway musical How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying.
3. Don’t agree too much with what your boss has to say. That’s not being a kissie—that’s being a yes-man.
Silent appreciation doesn’t mean much. Silent recognition isn’t much use to anyone. A person will more readily accept your reasoning when you show recognition and appreciation for the things he or she says and does.
Zone Alert #1. Don’t complain or sulk. (“You’re unfair.” “You’re not reasonable.”) A doom-and-gloom style is discomforting. A turnoff. Remember the empowering secrets of a still center and manage the curves and glitches with grace.
Zone Alert #2. Don’t look back. People look back only to criticize. Your argument goal is an agreement, not an admission or apology. Focus your argument on how something is to be done rather than on why it wasn’t done that way before. Suggesting possible solutions is an issue-management technique that moves the focus of an argument from having to justify your complaint to your proposed remedy.
Zone Alert #3. Don’t judge other people’s actions or thoughts. Judgmental words—wrong, stupid, bad, crazy, foolhardy—will only make a person defensive and resistant.
Zone Alert #4. Don’t ask, “What is your problem?” This makes the other person feel inadequate or lacking. It’s a rare day that someone admits he was being unreasonable.
Zone Alert #5. Don’t ask, “Why can’t you be reasonable?” This question invites conflict.
Zone Alert #6. Don’t maneuver someone into a corner by pointing out discrepancies, proving him to be a liar. This is an invitation to fight. Instead, go to the pro’s script: “You’ve said A and you’ve said B. They are at odds with each other. How can we resolve these inconsistencies?”
It’s in the Consent Zone where you’ll bring emotions under control before they reach their flash point—before positions become polarized and before ideas become crystallized from having been vigorously defended.
When driving a car, you can’t go from “R” to “D” without going through “N.” Here’s how to shift a dialogue from “Reverse” to “Neutral” so you can “Drive” your argument home.
To avoid mouth-to-mouth combat, loop the other person into your game. Try saying:
“You may be right in what you are saying.” This “may be” statement is non-threatening and won’t prompt any new outbursts.
“You are probably right.” If you are reasonably sure his statement is correct, then let him know.
“If I were in your shoes, I think I would feel the same way.” Use this the non-provoking response if there is no possibility that he may be right. After all, if you were his mirror image—his exact alter ego—wouldn’t you have to feel the way he does? Don’t confuse confirming that you understand what he has said with agreeing with what he has said.
You can stand up to hostility and aggression. But that’s not getting through. Being impossible in return is the norm. Finessing people who are hostile is the winner’s art.
Simply saying “I’m sorry” isn’t enough. A credible apology will say more: “I’m sorry because what I did was stupid…or silly…or greedy…or mean.” An apology with too many “ifs” or “may haves” won’t do the job. A genuine apology will acknowledge the offense. Offer a believable explanation for why it occurred (not to be confused with an excuse) and a sincere expression of shame. It will be an apology “for the harm that I caused” rather than an apology “in case I may have hurt you.”
Allegations about Arnold Schwarzenegger’s attitude toward women and the accusation by six women that he touched them in a sexual manner without their consent prompted this apology:
“So I want to say to you, yes, that I have behaved badly sometimes. Yes, it is true that I was rowdy on movie sets and I have done things that were not right which I thought then was playful. But now I recognize that I have offended people. And to those people that I have offended, I want to say to them I am deeply sorry about that and I apologize.”1
But then “The Arnold” lost ground by telling a television interviewer, “I would say most of it is not true.” The accusations were just part of trash politics.
We’re sorry for the disruption and the inconvenience the strike has caused. Thank you for your patience and understanding.… Now it’s time for us to get back to the job at hand. Delivering your packages—making good on our promises. And earning back your trust.—United Parcel Service ad following the end of a teamster’s union strike
It was not our intention to deprive people of their rights and to cause misery, but eventually apartheid led to just that…. Deep regret goes much further than just saying you are sorry. It says that if I could turn the clock back, and if I could do anything about it, I would have liked to have avoided it.”—South African President F.W. de Klerk’s 1993 apology for his national party’s imposition of apartheid
The Deepwater Horizon disaster caused torrents of oil to spew into the Gulf of Mexico. British Petroleum’s flustered CEO aired an apology that included confessing that he “wanted his life back,” a comment that negatively impacted his public persona and credibility.
It’s been called “Antennagate.” Apple customers complained that the antenna design on the iPhone 4 caused reception problems. Apple claimed that the problem was nothing more than an easily fixed software problem. Consumer Reports tests confirmed that it was a hardware defect that caused the phone to lose reception when held a certain way. Apple made the public relations mistake of minimizing the problem.
Toyota recalled more than eight million vehicles because of several problems including sticky gas pedals that caused Toyotas to quickly accelerate. The carmaker had to pay a $16.4 million fine for its failure to quickly disclose potential safety defects.
To drive your argument forward, you may need to fess up with a genuine apology. But do it right, or don’t do it at all.
Construct a Consent Zone. With the right horse for the course, resistance is minimized and receptiveness maximized. Winners are never know-it-alls or tell-it-alls. They set a winning climate. They’re enthusiastic because enthusiasm is contagious. They show appreciation for the things the other person says and does. They manage emotions by finessing hostility and making tactical apologies.