Invisible Influence (5 page)

Every time the monkey moved its hands, or mouth, tiny related brain cells would fire, and a sound would register on a monitor.
⁸
When the monkey raised its hand, the monitor went
bliip, blip
. When the monkey reached out to bring something to its mouth:
bliip, bliip . . . bliip
. The sound echoed through the lab.

So far, the study was going pretty much as expected. Premotor neurons were firing whenever the monkey engaged in various movements. With every action, a loud
bliip
emanated from the machine. The scientists left the equipment on and went to grab a bite to eat.

One of the graduate students returned eating an ice cream cone. He held the cone out in front of him, almost like a microphone.

The monkey looked on with interest. Gazing longingly at the cone.

But then something unusual happened. As the student raised the cone to his lips, the monitor went off.
Bliip, blip,
it sounded.

But the monkey wasn't moving.

The grad student walked closer and again moved the ice cream toward his mouth.
Bliip, bliip,
screamed out the monitor. If the monkey was immobile, why were brain regions associated with planning and initiating movement firing?

Turns out that the same cells that fired when the monkey took an action were also firing when the monkey observed
someone else
take that action.

The cells fired when the monkey moved its hand to its mouth, but also when the monkey merely observed the grad student move the ice cream cone toward his lips. Later tests showed that the cells fired when the monkey picked up a banana, but they also fired when the monkey watched someone else pick up a banana.

The cells even fired for sounds. When the monkey cracked open a peanut but also when it heard someone else crack open a
peanut. Observing someone doing something led the monkey's brain to simulate that same action itself. The Italian scientists had discovered what we know today as “mirror neurons.”

Since that initial discovery, researchers have found mirror neurons in humans as well. Watching someone else engage in an action activates the same cortical region as engaging in that action. Watch others grab an object, and the motor-evoked potentials, or signal that a muscle is ready to move, is similar to grasping that object ourselves.
⁹

Others can thus prime us for action. Observing others do something can activate our mind in ways that make it easier for us to do the same thing. See someone sit up straight in a meeting? Watch someone grab candy from a bowl? We may find ourselves doing the same thing because their actions primed ours. Our minds, and muscles, have been directed down a course of imitation.
^III

That we're hardwired to imitate is interesting in itself, but behavioral mimicry also has important consequences. Sure, we mimic others, but what happens when others mimic us?

Jake hated negotiating. He hated it so much that he would rather pay full price for a new car than have to haggle. Bargaining for a price on eBay's Make an Offer was enough to give him a small panic attack. Whether sorting out salary requirements at his last job or hashing out the details of a supplier contract, negotiating was something Jake would rather skip. It felt forced, confrontational, and argumentative.

Yet there he was, late one Tuesday afternoon, locked in a tense negotiation over, of all things, a gas station.

Jake had been given the role of service station owner and was facing off against Susan in an MBA class exercise on negotiation. His job was to sell his gas station at a good price.

The owner and his wife had been working eighteen-hour days the past five years to save enough money to realize their life dream: to sail around the world. They'd leave from Los Angeles, and spend two years winding through dozens of places they'd only read about in books. They'd already put a down payment on a beautiful old boat and had started fitting it out for the trip.

The only hitch was the station. They needed money to finance the trip, so would have to sell it. Jake, in his role as the station owner, was trying to unload the station fast. He had to sell it soon, but, to pay for the trip, he had to clear a certain price.

Susan sat across the table.

She had been given the role of representing Texoil, a large oil
and gas company interested in buying the station. The company was in the midst of a strategic expansion and was acquiring independent service stations just like Jake's.

Jake started the negotiation by talking about how great the station was. That it had little competition and would be a perfect investment opportunity. Plus, property values had increased over the last decade, and it would cost Texoil much more to build a comparable station from scratch.

Susan flattered Jake by talking about the valued history of the station, but countered that it would require a significant capital investment from Texoil to update. New pumps and a brand-new mechanics area. Texoil could only offer so much for the station.

As negotiators often do, each focused on the facts that made their side look good. They led with why the price should favor their position, and hid information that would hurt their cause.

Eventually, they started tossing out numbers.

Susan offered $410,000. Jake politely declined, and came back with $650,000. Susan budged up a little. Jake countered by lowering his number slightly.

Thirty minutes later, they still hadn't reached a solution.

Negotiation exercises like this one are designed to make students better negotiators. By acting out a real bargaining situation, students get experience feeling out their opponent, deciding how much private information to release, and learning how to close a deal.

But at first glance, this negotiation seemed like a cruel joke. There was no zone of possible agreement.

In negotiations, the zone of possible agreement is a range where both the buyer and seller would be happier reaching a deal than walking away. If you're willing to sell your house for anything above $1 million, and a buyer is willing to buy it for anything below $1.2 million, then there is a reasonable range of potential agreement: $200,000. Any offer between $1 million and $1.2 million and the two of you have a deal.

Sure, each of you would like to grab as much of that surplus as possible. As the seller, you'd rather sell it for $1.2 million. You get an extra $200,000 to buy a new car, send your kids to college, or get that Velvet Elvis painting you've always wanted. And the buyer, of course, would rather only pay $1 million. They'd prefer to keep that $200,000 for themselves and put that Velvet Elvis painting up in their own living room. But regardless of how much of the surplus each of you keeps, both of you would rather make a deal within that range than walk away.

In other cases, the zone of possible agreement is much smaller. If you're willing to accept anything over $1 million for your house, and the buyer is only willing to pay up to $1 million, then the bargaining range is pretty tight. The buyer can bluster all they want. They can offer $800,000, $900,000, or even $999,000. But unless they go to the top of their range, the two of you won't reach a deal. No Velvet Elvis for either of you.

As a result, the smaller the bargaining zone, the tougher the negotiation. When there's a large zone, each side can be coy. You can start off at a place that works best for you, but there's still a good shot that a deal can be reached. Tighten that range, though, and reaching an agreement becomes tougher. Each side has to be willing to go further to appease the other. As a result, deals often don't get done.

The Texoil negotiation seemed even worse. It looked like
there was no overlap. The most Texoil had authorized Susan to pay for the station was less than the amount Jake thought he could accept. Either side could go as far to the edge as they were allowed to go and still not reach a deal. It seemed like an exercise in futility.

Fortunately there was a catch.

While the money didn't seem to line up, the underlying interests of the parties were compatible. Sure, Texoil wanted to purchase the station, but they also needed a good manager to run it in the future. And the seller, who had been a great station manager the past five years, wanted to get rid of the station but he also wanted a steady job when he came back from the round-the-world cruise. There was hope.

If both parties could recognize these common interests, and creatively structure a deal, agreement could be reached. They'd have to think beyond just the price of the station itself, though, and incorporate other dimensions. The buyer could offer the high end of their range for the station, but also guarantee the owner a steady job managing the station when he came back from the trip. This arrangement would give the station owner enough money to cover the trip and ensure that he had a job waiting when he returned.

Reaching agreement wasn't impossible. But it required that the parties trust each other enough to reveal otherwise private information. Jake's manager had to reveal that he was selling the station to go on vacation. And Susan's Texoil representative had to reveal that she needed someone to run the station. The seller had to trust the buyer and vice versa.

But trust is the last thing most people feel in a one-off negotiation. Each side is consumed with extracting the most value from the other: how to give up the least information so they can keep
the most value for themselves. Saying he was going on vacation might weaken his bargaining position, so people in Jake's position tend not to share.

How could Susan get Jake to trust her? What could she do to win him over and get him to reveal valuable, private information?

Turns out a simple trick led negotiators like Jake and Susan to be five times as successful. Five times as likely to close the deal, even when all seemed lost.
¹⁰

That trick?

Mimicking their negotiation partner.

Researchers wondered whether behavioral mimicry might help the buyer win the seller's trust. They had pairs of Jakes and Susans engage in the same negotiation. But for half the participants, they instructed the buyer to subtly mimic the mannerisms of their negotiation partner. If the seller rubbed their face, the buyer did as well. If the seller leaned back or forward on their chair, the buyer did the same. Not blatantly, but discreetly enough that the other person wouldn't notice.

This might seem silly. After all, why should someone rubbing their face or leaning back in their chair change whether people reach a deal?

But it did. People who mimicked their partner were five times as likely to find a successful outcome. While almost no one who didn't mimic found an acceptable agreement, people who subtly imitated their counterpart reached a deal two-thirds of the time.

Mimicry facilitates social interactions because it generates rapport. Like a social glue, mimicry binds us and bonds us together. Rather than “us versus them,” when someone behaves the same
way we do, we start to see ourselves as more interconnected. Closer and more interdependent. All without even realizing it.

If someone acts like us, or behaves similarly, we may infer that we have things in common or are part of the same tribe. Part of this may be driven by the association between similarity and kinship. Because we tend to imitate those around us, seeing someone doing the same thing we're doing may serve as a nonconscious signal that we are connected in some way. If someone has the same accent or loves the same brand we feel an affinity or bond. These connections, in turn, lead to greater liking, and smoother interactions.

As a result, mimicry has all sorts of interpersonal consequences.
¹¹
Speed daters whose linguistic styles better mimicked one another were three times more likely to want to see each other again. Existing couples with matching linguistics styles were 50 percent more likely to still be dating three months later.

Mimicry also shapes professional success. In negotiations, mimicry not only helped people reach deals, it enabled negotiators to create value and claim more of that value for themselves. In interviews, mimicry led interviewees to feel more comfortable and perform better. And in a retail context, mimicking increased persuasion.

In fact, the only time we don't mimic others is when we don't want to affiliate with them. People who are satisfied in their current romantic relationship, for example, were less likely to mimic attractive members of the opposite sex. Only when we
don't
want to connect with others do we break from this default tendency.
^IV

By now it's clear that people often do the same thing as others. But might this penchant for imitation help shape what becomes popular?

At the beginning, all you see is a foot, slowly tapping against the aluminum leg of a school desk. Then a pencil, drumming on a textbook. And finally, a girl's bored face, head resting on her chin, waiting. Waiting for the clock to strike three p.m.

The seconds slowly drag by: 2:59 and 57 seconds . . . 2:59 and 58 seconds. Each tick blending with the sound of the pencil tapping on the book. The camera pans to students glancing at the clock. When will class be over? Even the teacher can't wait.

Finally, the ringing of the bell breaks the standoff. The students grab their backpacks, jump out of their seats, and flood into the halls.

A quick four-count beat and then it starts. “
Oh baby, baby . . .
” a raspy voice intones.
Bum, bum bum bum bum
follows the beat. “
Oh baby, baby . . .
”

The camera zooms in on a teenager with dirty-blond hair tied in pigtails with pink bows at the end. She's dressed as a Catholic school girl, but more like the Halloween costume than ones in real life. Pressed white dress shirt tied off at her midriff, short black shirt, and tall black stockings. She sashays her hips, and as students pour into the hallways, she and a group of her peers break out into a coordinated dance number.