Influence: The Psychology of Persuasion

do. We allow ourselves to be much more swayed by experts who seem to be impartial than by those who have something to gain by convincing us; and this has been shown by research to be true around the world.¹ By wondering how an expert stands to benefit from our compliance, we give ourselves another safety net against undue and automatic influence. Even knowledgeable authorities in a field will not persuade us until we are satisfied that their messages represent the facts faithfully.

When asking ourselves about such a person's trustworthiness, we should keep in mind a little tactic compliance practitioners often use to assure us of their sincerity: They will seem to argue to a degree against their own interests. Correctly done, this can be a subtly effective device for proving their honesty. Perhaps they will mention a small shortcoming in their position or product ('Oh, the disadvantages of Benson & Hedges'). Invariably, though, the drawback will be a secondary one that is easily overcome by more significant advantages —'Listerine, the taste you hate three times a day'; 'Avis: We're number two, but we try harder'; 'L'Oreal, a bit more expensive and worth it.' By establishing their basic truthfulness on minor issues, the compliance professionals who use this ploy can then be more believable when stressing the important aspects of their argument.¹⁴

I have seen this approach used with devastating effect in a place that few of us recognize as a compliance setting: the restaurant. It is no secret that because of shamelessly low wages, servers in restaurants must supplement their earnings with tips. Leaving the sine qua non of good service aside, the most successful waiters and waitresses know certain tricks for increasing tips. They also know that the larger a customer's bill, the larger the amount of money likely to come to them in a standard gratuity. In these two regards, then—building the size of the customer's charge and building the percentage of that charge that is given as a tip—servers regularly act as compliance agents.

Hoping to find out how they operate, I applied for waiter openings at several fairly expensive restaurants. Without experience, though, the best I could do was to land a busboy job that, as things turned out, provided me a propitious vantage point from which to watch and analyze the action. Before long, I realized what the other employees already knew—that the most successful waiter in the place was Vincent, who somehow arranged for patrons to order more and tip higher than for anyone else; in fact, the other servers were not even close to him in weekly earnings.

So I began to linger in my duties around Vincent's tables to observe his style. I quickly learned that his style was to have no single style. He had a repertoire of them, each ready to be called on under the appropriate circumstances. When the customers were a family, he was effervescent—even slightly clownish—directing his remarks as often to the children as to the adults. With a young couple on a date, he became formal and a bit imperious in an attempt to intimidate the young man (to whom he spoke exclusively) into ordering and tipping lavishly. With an older, married couple, he retained the formality but dropped the superior air in favor of a respectful orientation to both members of the couple. Should the patron be dining alone, Vincent selected a friendly demeanor—cordial, conversational, and warm.

But Vincent reserved the trick of seeming to argue against his own interests for large parties of eight to twelve people. Here his technique was veined with genius. When it was time for the first person, normally a lady, to order, he went into his act. No matter what she selected, Vincent reacted identically: His brow furrowed, his hand hovered above his order pad, and after looking quickly over his shoulder for the manager, he leaned conspiratorially toward the table to report for all to hear, 'I'm afraid that is not as good tonight as it normally is. Might I recommend instead the_or the_?' (Here Vincent suggested a pair of menu items that were fifty cents or so less expensive than the dish the patron had selected initially.) 'They are both excellent tonight.'

With this single maneuver, Vincent engaged several important principles of influence. First, even those who did not take his suggestions felt that Vincent had done them a favor by offering valuable information to help them order. Everyone felt grateful, and consequently the rule for reciprocity would work in his favor when it came time to decide on his gratuity. But besides hiking the percentage of his tip, Vincent's maneuver also placed him in a favorable position to increase the size of the table's order. It established him as an authority on the current stores of the house; he clearly knew what was and wasn't good that night. Moreover—and this is where seeming to argue against his own interests came in—it proved him to be a trustworthy informant, because he recommended dishes that were slightly less expensive than originally ordered. Rather than trying to line his own pockets, he seemed to have the customers' best interests at heart.

To all appearances, he was at once knowledgeable and honest, a combination that gave him great credibility. And Vincent was quick to exploit the advantage of this credible image. When the party had finished giving their food orders, he would say, 'Very well, and would you like me to suggest or select some wine to go with your meals?' As I watched the scene repeated almost nightly, there was a notable consistency to the customers' reactions—smiles, nods, and for the most part, general assent.

Even from the distance of my vantage point, one could read their thoughts from their faces. 'Sure,' they seemed to say, 'you know what's good here, and you're obviously on our side. Tell us what to get.' Looking pleased, Vincent, who did know his vintages, would respond with some excellent (and costly) choices. He was similarly persuasive when it came time for dessert decisions. Patrons who otherwise would have passed up the dessert course or shared with a friend were swayed to partake fully by Vincent's rapturous descriptions of the Baked Alaska and chocolate mousse. Who, after all, is more believable than a demonstrated expert of proven sincerity?

By combining the factors of reciprocity and credible authority into a single, elegant maneuver, Vincent was able to inflate substantially both the percentage of his tip and the base charge on which it was figured. His proceeds from this trick were handsome, indeed. But notice that much of his profit came from an apparent lack of concern for personal profit. Seeming to argue against his financial interests served those interests extremely well.

READER'S REPORT

From a Young Businessman

'About two years ago, I was trying to sell my old car because I'd already bought a new one. One day I passed a used-car lot with a sign reading, WE WILL SELL YOUR CAR FOR MORE. Just what I wanted, I thought; so I stopped in to talk with the owner. I told him I wanted to get about three thousand dollars for my old car, and he said he thought I should be asking for a lot more because it was worth at least thirty-five-hundred dollars. This came as a real surprise to me, because the way their consignment system worked, the larger my asking price for the car, the less money was left over for them to keep after they sold it to somebody. Therefore, by telling me to ask for more than three thousand dollars, they were cutting off their own profits. Just like your Vincent-the-waiter example, they were seeming to argue against their own interests so I'd see them as trustworthy authorities; but I didn't realize this until much later. Anyway, I went along with the owner's idea that my car was worth more than I'd first thought, and I set my asking price at thirty-five-hundred dollars.

'After they'd had my car on their lot for a couple of days, they called saying that someone was really interested in it, but that the price was a little too high. Would I be willing to drop my price by two hundred dollars to sell the car? Convinced that they had my interests at heart, I agreed. The next day they called back to say the the buyer's financing had fallen through and that he couldn't buy the car. In the next two weeks, I got two more calls from the dealership, each asking me to drop my price two hundred dollars to seal a sale to some customer. Both times I OK'd it because I still believed they were trustworthy. But each time, the alleged deal fell through. I was suspicious enough to call a friend whose family was in the car business. He said this was an old trick designed to get sellers like me to reduce their asking prices to super low levels, giving the dealership big profits when they finally sold the car.

'So, I went over there and took my car. As I was leaving, they were still trying to persuade me to let them keep it because they had a 'hot prospect' who they were sure would buy it if I'd only knock off another two hundred dollars.'

Once again in a Reader's Report we can see the influence of the contrast principle combining with the principle of primary interest. In this case, after the thirty-five-hundred-dollar figure was set, each two- hundred-dollar nick seemed small by comparison.