Negativity bias makes us more willing to believe something bad about an unfamiliar person than to believe something good about him, and can even cause us to judge familiar people too harshly, imagining nefarious motivations for which there is no real evidence. A coworker closes her office door, and we think she’s talking about us. Or maybe she’s lining up an interview for a new job, or plotting to overthrow the company.

Negativity bias is useful when facing a club-wielding member of a different clan. Not so useful when you want to build consensus.

This inborn bias makes us unjustifiably sensitive to criticism. As explained more fully in Chapter 4 of Bridges to Consensus, we perceive criticism, or wrong making, as a threat. But our instinct to argue or counterattack is counterproductive if we seek consensus with the critic.

The Oprah Magazine recently interviewed two coaches and a neuropsychologist about developing more constructive responses to these modern situations.[1] Each of them suggested a practice that fits right in with good consensus and communication skills.

Marcia Reynolds, PsyD, a life coach and author of Outsmart Your Brain! Suggests developing a clear plan when making a major life change and continuing to “move forward when things go wrong—which of course they will.”[2] Not every consensus-seeking communication is a major life change, but when we use our consensus skills to prepare, we are, in reality, making plans—plans for a particular conversation, as well as longer-range plans for satisfying our interests whether or not we are able to reach consensus with the other person.

Ben Dattner, PhD, an executive coach and author of The Blame Game, emphasizes the importance of creating a nonjudgmental atmosphere so that people are willing to voice the sort of unusual ideas that can lead to breakthrough solutions. We create this kind of atmosphere when we practice the Silver Rule of Consensus—“Avoid wrong making” (Bridges, Chapter 4). Once that atmosphere is established, we can use the “What would Spiderman do?” technique to move from unusual ideas to exceptionally creative results (Bridges, Chapter 8).

But the interviewee who spoke the loudest to me was Rick Hansen, PhD, a neuropsychologist and co-author of Buddha’s Brain. He suggests that we can actually wire up new, more positive, circuitry in our brains by spending as little as ten seconds savoring a positive detail, several times a day. This detail can be as simple as the yummy taste of a sandwich or the beat of a favorite song. I began a similar practice several years ago. I not only savor the good moments, but express gratitude for them, even if only in my mind.

A problem solver, and thus a problem seeker, by nature, I took positive thinking a step further. Now, once I have identified something I want to avoid (a problem), I try to think of the positive contrast—the thing I do want. If I want to avoid traffic, the positive contrast is a clear road. If I want to avoid an angry blow up with someone, the positive contrast is a calm conversation. Then I try express what I want in those positive terms, both in my head and with my mouth, whenever I can.

In ways that probably have scientific explanations, though they aren’t yet known (at least not to me), this practice has helped me actually achieve more positive results. I have found that I cope with criticism better, and in doing so, have become even more persuasive and better at using my skills to achieve agreements that satisfy my interests.

I believe I have actually improved my brain wiring. But even if the only thing that happens when you focus on the positive is that you feel happier in the moment, you have been well rewarded.

In the March 2012 issue of O the Oprah Magazine[1], Martha Beck writes, “I love the Buddhist concept of enlightenment as living without anxiety over imperfection.” In consensus, persuasion, and related communication skills training, we learn to assess the success of a dialogue by comparing it, not to a perfect dialogue, but rather to the one we would have had if we hadn’t used our skills.

Like any other human endeavor, a consensus-seeking conversation is never perfect. In making perfection our standard, we only open the door to undeserved self-criticism and frustration. So the first and best medicine for such frustrations consists of a more realistic standard of comparison.

Suppose Emily’s sister Donna wants to borrow Emily’s heirloom necklace. Last week, Donna borrowed a blouse, and returned it with a stain that wouldn’t come out, and this is only the last in a string of similar incidents. The necklace has an intrinsic worth of about $200, as well as sentimental value. Emily values her relationship with Donna, but figures she has to set some boundaries.

Emily’s first impulse is to say something like, “I’m sorry, but the necklace is one thing I just can’t lend to anyone.” Then Emily remembers her consensus-building skills, and decides to discuss her interests, rather than taking an initial position.

So Emily tells Donna, “I feel torn because I love you so much and value our relationship. I don’t know what would be worse for that relationship, lending the necklace and then feeling angry and resentful if it got lost, stolen or damaged, or on the other hand, saying no to a dear sister.”

Bristling, Donna replies, “So you don’t trust me with it?”

“Well, I can’t help thinking about what happened to my blouse last week.”

“Just forget it.” Donna starts to leave the room in a huff.

Emily regroups and stops her. “Donna, please wait. I don’t know who I would trust with that necklace, because Granny left it to me, and there’s really no way to replace it. I’d like to trust you with it. What would you think about trying to agree on what we’ll do if something happens to the necklace, and I promise, in that unlikely event, if we do what we agreed, I’ll be perfectly content.”

Calming down a little, Donna asks Emily, “So if something happens to the necklace, what if I give you the bracelet that Granny left to me?”

Emily replies, “That would be fine.” She gives Donna a hug and asks, “Are we okay?”

“Yep, okay,” but her hug could have been a little warmer.

Donna could go home and wring her hands over the fact that there was no need to have mentioned the blouse. She could have moved straight into her suggestion that they agree in advance what to do if the necklace is lost, damaged, or the like. Instead, she made Donna wrong, and even though Donna says they are now okay, things would be even better if Emily had not mentioned the blouse.

Emily would be well advised to reflect on what would have happened if she had gone with her first impulse and simply refused to lend Donna the necklace. Or what if she hadn’t known the skills to regroup and stop Donna from walking out in a huff? Those are more legitimate standards for comparison in Emily’s situation.

It also helps for Emily to realize that, as with all consensus-seeking conversations, she can learn from this experience, and thus, continue improving her skills for future interactions. As pointed out by Martha Beck, “Embracing the lesson always loosens the stranglehold of worry.”[2]

What I didn’t know back then, but later learned from Dr. Cialdini’s book, Influence: the Psychology of Persuasion[1], amazed me. First, an astounding 65% of the volunteers continued to obey the researcher until the highest voltage shock lever had been flipped, even though the actor screamed, pleaded, and eventually feigned a near-catatonic state in which he was no longer able to answer any questions at all. Moreover, they did this even when the actor had first announced that he had heart trouble, and began to complain about his heart during the experiment.

If you think these volunteers must have been atypical and/or sadistic, think again. Careful initial controls and follow-up studies proved that the volunteers represented a typical cross-section of society, with no psychological abnormalities. They hated what they were doing, and begged the researcher to let them stop. Cialdini describes one volunteer who entered the room as a poised businessman and ended up on the point of nervous collapse.

Follow-up studies showed that volunteers only complied with commands to shock when those commands were given by the authority figure in the situation, the researcher. In one variation, when the researcher asked the volunteer to stop, even though the fake test subject had offered to continue, 100% of the volunteers stopped delivering shocks. Similarly, when the researcher appeared to be receiving the shocks, and a fellow volunteer ordered the shocks, not one volunteer complied.

Like all the triggers exploited by compliance professionals, deference to authority is wired into our brains. In other words, we tend to obey without thinking, and that’s just what compliance professionals want. They want us to comply with their requests and suggestions without thinking. They use symbols of authority in advertisements, face-to-face pitches, and all sorts of ideological communications.

Authority symbols can be clothing, like a lab coat, a police uniform, or even a nice business suit. In one experiment, people were more likely to follow a jaywalker across the street when he was dressed in a business suit, rather than casual clothes. Other types of status symbols can trigger similar responses. When a luxury car is first in line at a red light, and doesn’t move when the light turns green, people behind it wait longer before honking than they do if the first car is an economy vehicle. Other triggers may be things we hear, rather than see, such as the titles Dr., Professor, or Officer.

Obviously, always refusing to obey or follow authority figures is not an option. That brain wiring evolved for good reasons. When a captain calls, “Abandon ship,” or a police officer shouts, “Show your hands,” it’s in your interest to do so ASAP. Imagine what would happen to a football team if, instead of following the quarterback’s calls, each member made his own decision about which play to run.

An advertisement on television is neither an emergency nor a precision team effort. We can, and should, learn to override our brain wiring before deciding whether to believe or buy from certain apparent authority figures. On the other hand, we don’t have time to personally research every decision we make, and in some cases, we don’t have the background to understand the research. There are times when we must rely on authority figures. So how do we tell the difference?

Cialdini suggests that, when we observe an authority symbol in an advertisement or the like, we should ask ourselves two questions. First, is the person really an expert? Second, is the person’s expertise actually relevant to the subject matter? When you answer either question “No,” beware. If we get into the habit of asking these questions, in other words, taking time to think (where it’s practical to do so), we can avoid autopilot mistakes such as buying a product because the actor in the advertisement is wearing a stethoscope or following a well-dressed person across the street against a red light.

But even answering these questions gets tricky. Cialdini notes a compliance technique of making a statement contrary to the apparent authority figure’s interests in order to make her seem legitimate and objective. The concession statement is always less compelling than the real message. A TV ad for Listerine mouthwash might show someone wincing while swishing, but the commentator assures the viewer that the sting is worth it.

To all of Dr. Cialdini’s wisdom, I would add that professionals can use even more subtle authority triggers. At least we recognize a doctor’s white coat as an authority symbol, which can cue us to ask Cialdini’s two questions. But more subtle, possibly subliminal, triggers are things we don’t recognize.

I once took a continuing studies course at Rice University entitled “Conflict, Violence, War and Hope.” One lecturer pointed out that we have unconsciously become accustomed to see the highest authority figures in news broadcasting, such as anchors, facing the camera directly. This also gives us the impression that they are speaking directly to us, the viewers. Persons being interviewed may be shot at an angle. An interviewer or panel moderator at the head of a table may face the camera directly, while the panelists or interviewees, seated along the sides, appear at an angle to the viewer.

Thus, programming can be slanted to make certain people appear more authoritative by shooting them head on or less authoritative by shooting them at an angle. The professor further noted that this technique was used by embedded reporters in the second Iraq war when interviewing military personnel.

The unconscious influence of camera angle is only one factor that I happened to learn about. There must be many others that I don’t know about, and that are not recognizable to me as traditional authority symbols. Perhaps we can’t learn all of these, but we can protect ourselves against at least some of them.

I suggest that, when considering an important decision, such as a major purchase, we take time to do what compliance professionals don’t want us to do—think. Take a break and reconsider the matter in a day or so when you are not exposed to the original message.

Many of these triggers are visual. Auditory signals, such as timbre and tone of voice, can also influence us without our awareness. So if, for example, you find yourself swayed buy something you see on television, it may help to read more about the matter in print only, whether online or in hard copy.

Finally, be on the lookout for information about other means of influence. Every issue of Psychology Today is full of examples of studies showing humans behaving in surprisingly illogical ways, and pointing out the things that trigger such behavior. For me, it’s no effort to find time to read such fascinating articles and equally fascinating books like Influence[2]. I’ll be writing about more of them in future posts in this “Dark Arts” series.

If you’ve read Bridges to Consensus, you know that effective consensus building requires calmness and clear thought. Tension and stress work against you. Many consensus skills are counterintuitive, so knee-jerk reactions are their enemy. When you get in the habit of mindfully relaxing your entire body once a day, you can call up a more relaxed state whenever you want to think and communicate carefully.

Choose a time of day when you have access to a quiet comfortable spot to sit or lie down. Close your eyes and take a deep breath, first expanding your abdomen, then your chest. As you let this breath out slowly, mentally say, “Relax.” Repeat this process two more times, and each time you exhale, say, “Relax,” let go of tension and feel it flow out of your body.

Now, continue breathing slowly and easily while you feel all tension flowing out of your forehead and scalp. Move on to your eyebrows and the muscles around your eyes, feeling them relax. Let your eyelids becoming loose and heavy and your entire face—cheeks, jaw, lips and tongue—relax.

Continue to feel the relaxation flowing down through your neck and shoulders, then down your back. Let relaxation flow down through your upper arms, lower arms and fingers. Feel your stomach relaxing. Now extend the relaxation down through your hips, legs, feet and toes.

Enjoy this relaxed state for as long as you like. When finished, open your eyes gently, move your fingers and toes slightly, and gradually become more alert until you feel ready to stand up.

If you can manage a relaxation exercise in the early or mid afternoon, you’ll find yourself better able to sleep that night. But if your work situation doesn’t allow this, try doing an exercise before you get out of bed in the morning and/or shortly after you get home in the evening.

Right before bed is not the ideal time for a one-a-day relaxation exercise, though it can work well for a second or third exercise of the day. But even if bedtime is the one and only time you can do the exercise, you’ll benefit.

With a bit of practice, you can relax at need by doing the first part of the exercise, closing your eyes and taking three deep breaths, mentally saying, “Relax,” each time you exhale. You can relax shortly before beginning any conversation or other activity that makes you feel a little nervous or tense, or any time you want to do your best thinking.

I’ve found that I enjoy this exercise so much, I look forward to doing it. This is one resolution you’ll want to keep even after the month of February is finished.

A recent article in Psychology Today[1] started me thinking about the rule of reciprocity in a different light. The article describes the many benefits of eating tasty food, such as strawberries and chocolate. In addition to the actual biochemical effects of the food itself, the very pleasure of eating it not only lifts one’s mood but also stimulates many physiological processes that benefit neuroendocrine, inflammatory, immunological, and cardiovascular systems.

And in addition to these individual benefits, sharing food with others benefits the pair or group, promoting civilization and culture, helping people bond and form friendships, and even helping children succeed in school and later life.

But what if you are engaged in negotiations, or some other form of consensus-seeking interaction, with another person, and he offers to treat you to lunch? Have you been set up? If you refuse to accept the lunch, you break the first part of the rule of reciprocity and risk offending the person. But if you accept the lunch, you subject yourself to the pull of the second part of the rule of reciprocity. Specifically, you might then agree to a request by the other person for something that is not in your best interests.

And what if you are the one who invites the other person to lunch? Is this unethical? Will the other person think that you are trying to manipulate him, and therefore, resent you?

In my opinion, the relationship advantages of sharing a meal, or even a snack or beverage, outweigh any such danger, provided that you think about what you are doing. If you are on the receiving end of the invitation, remember that the rule of reciprocity evolved for the purpose of encouraging us to reciprocate in kind for a gift or favor. This means reciprocating with a return gift or favor of similar nature and value. A free lunch is not similar, in nature or value, to entering into a major contract. A free dinner is not similar, in nature or value, to sleeping with your date.

Here are some ways you can accept that invitation, and enjoy all the mutual benefits of sharing food, without giving in to an inequitable request by the other person:

• The other person invites you to dinner. Make your acceptance conditional on the other person’s accepting your offer for the future. “Okay, you get dinner, and I’ll buy the movie tickets.” Or, “I’d love to be your guest for dinner, and I’d like you to be my guest next Friday. How about it?”

If your companion hesitates or refuses to accept your offer, he may be trying to obtain an advantage over you. As Dr. Cialdini[2] suggested with respect to “free gifts” enclosed with solicitation letters, define the dinner offer not as a gift, but a possible weapon of manipulation. Then feel no guilt about accepting it without giving in to any objectionable requests he may make. After all, he broke the first part of the rule by refusing your offer of a reciprocal favor.

• The other person is a coworker who comes into your office with his coffee cup, and another cup of coffee for you, just the way you like it. Reciprocate in-kind on the spot by pulling out a couple of pieces of the candy you keep stashed in your desk for just such occasions. “Looky here, I’ve got the perfect thing to go with that coffee.”
• Accept the shared food, and if the other person requests something of a different nature or greater value, or if you feel any hesitation or uneasiness whatsoever, simply say that you would like to think about it and get back to him. You can decide in your own good time whether accepting his request is in your best interests, and if it is not, you also have time to think of a return gift or favor that is of comparable value and does not violate your own interests.

Remember, the rule of reciprocation, and other compliance tactics we’ll see in future posts, urge us to say “yes” without thinking. You can go a long way by simply taking a think break. Once again, if the other person objects to your taking time to think, or tries to pressure you into an immediate decision, you know the meal was a manipulative trick, and you need feel no guilt about refusing an unreasonable request.

You’ll find more tips on gracefully requesting a think break, and what to think about during that break, in Bridges to Consensus, chapter 9.

Now suppose that you would like to offer the meal, snack or whatever. The other person is someone you want to, or have to, deal with in the future, in other words, someone with whom you will have a relationship. You don’t want to appear manipulative, nor do you want him to feel uncomfortably beholden.

One option is to suggest separate checks. If you don’t want to be manipulative, but would like for both of you to benefit from the mood-enhancing, civility-generating effects of sharing food, there’s no need to treat. Simply sharing the food does the job.

If you companion still seems hesitant, or says he would like to buy the meal, reverse some of the practices recommended above when the shoe was on the other foot: “I’ll get the dinner if you get the movie tickets.” Or, “I’ll treat today, and you treat next Tuesday, okay?”

Just because the rule of reciprocity can be used in devious ways, that doesn’t mean we should stop giving and accepting gifts and favors. After all, the reason reciprocity is wired into our brains is that, in the majority of cases, it facilitates civilized dealings and good relationships. All that’s required here, as in any consensus-seeking interaction, is a bit of mindfulness.

That was some years ago, and it led to my reading other authors in this field, but not to learn more about persuading people with whom I have a relationship. My entire consensus system is built around the fact that we do not need to sacrifice ethics in order to build—indeed optimize—consensus. Rather, I have studied books like Influence to learn how we can avoid manipulation by those in the business of persuading the masses.

Compliance professionals take advantage of mechanisms that are hardwired into our brains and use them against us. These mechanisms cause us to react to certain triggers without thinking. They are adaptive because, as Cialdini points out, we don’t always have time to research and analyze every decision we make. We need shortcuts, and Cialdini predicts that this need will only rise as our increasingly complex world bombards us with more and more stimuli.

So it behooves us to learn to identify the manipulative tricks used by marketers, ideologues, and others who may not have our best interests at heart. This is the first in a series of articles I will post on protecting ourselves from such tricks.

One category of compliance maneuver described by Cialdini is based on what he calls “the rule of reciprocity.” When someone gives us something or does us a favor, we feel obliged to reciprocate. It’s easy to see how this hardwired rule led to, and still supports, civilization as we know it. Without it, people would feel reluctant to take the first step in cooperating with one another.

The rule has two parts. The second, already mentioned, is that, if someone gives us a gift or does us a favor, we must reciprocate. This is why the organization seeking donations encloses “free” note cards in their mailings.

The first part of the rule is that we must accept a gift or favor when it’s offered. This is why, when you see someone at the grocery store handing out “free” samples, you might feel inclined to avoid eye contact and hurry past them. You intuitively sense that, if you accept a free sample, you will feel compelled to purchase the product.

When you receive a solicitation in the mail and decide not to donate, do you keep the “free” address labels or notecards, or do you throw them away? If you throw them away, but could have used them, it could be that the rule makes you feel guilty for accepting something without reciprocating.

The biggest surprises, for me, lay not in the fact that this rule exists, but in the strength of its pull. It is almost impossible to resist reciprocating a gift or favor unless we simply can’t, for example, due to personal hardships.

Cialdini describes the Watergate break-in as one of the most compelling examples of the force of the rule, it’s ability to trigger decisions against one’s own interests.

For those who may not remember, in 1972, operatives of the committee to reelect President Richard Nixon broke into and wiretapped the offices of the Democratic National Committee in the Watergate Hotel.

Long prior to the break-in, committee man G. Gordon Liddy had proposed a “$1 million program that included (in addition to the bugging of the Watergate) a specially equipped communications ‘chase plane,’ break-ins, kidnapping and mugging squads, and a yacht featuring ‘high class call girls’ to blackmail Democratic politicians.” It is hardly surprising that the committee rejected this proposal.

But then, Liddy made a concession, backing down to a $500,000 plan. After this, too, was rejected, Liddy finally presented his “bare-bones” plan for $250,000. Even though Liddy had a reputation as a goofball, even though his plan was expensive, risky and unnecessary (Nixon’s reelection prospects at the time being very good), the committee approved the plan to break into and wiretap the Watergate offices. At face value, this made no sense.

Why would such intelligent, sophisticated and experienced people agree to such a plan? Because, as Cialdini points out, our brains read concessions as favors. So, after Liddy had made, not only one, but two concessions, the committee members felt obliged to give him something. This was confirmed in later hearings by the testimony of committee members Jeb Magruder and John Mitchell. Magruder stated that, “no one was particularly overwhelmed with the project,” but “after starting at the grandiose sum of $1 million, we thought that probably $250,000 would be an acceptable figure… We were reluctant to send him away with nothing.” Mitchell, likewise, testified to a “feeling that we should leave Liddy a little something.”[1] [emphasis added]

For me, the fact that such experienced and sophisticated men would approve this risky, needless plan is powerful evidence of the nearly irresistible pull of the rule of reciprocity.

Cialdini suggests that the best way to overcome this type of manipulation is to redefine the favor or gift as what it really is, an attempt to manipulate you. Once I learned to do this, it became quite easy to keep the note cards without donating.

Likewise, remember that the rule urges us to reciprocate in kind, that is, with something of comparable value. A packet of address labels is not comparable in value to a $25 donation.

In my next post in this series, we’ll explore safe and ethical ways to deal if and when the rule of reciprocity bumps into our personal dealings with those with whom we have, or wish to have, valuable relationships.

Meanwhile, enjoy those labels and notecards.

One lady I’ve consulted with (I’ll call her “Jill”) likes to prepare before conferences with her child’s teachers or school administrators. When Jill first started working with me, we prepared for a school conference from scratch. In a phone conversation, I talked her through all the steps, from getting clear on her own interests to planning good choices of words to discuss specific points.

Jill was so pleased with her first results that she now wants to prepare for any conversation that is important to her. Each time Jill begins to prepare for a new consensus-building dialogue, she feels more upbeat, calm and confident. Jill reports that learning to use the system, including the preparation, has given her an “I can do this” attitude.

I’ve also noticed that, each time we work together, Jill has already done her own preparation, so that our consultations become shorter and shorter. Jill is right. She can do this. And if she wants to check in with me as part of her preparation, well, that’s just icing on the cake.

Jill recently called me about approaching one of her daughter’s teachers about his unusual testing methods. To protect client confidentiality and respect the privacy of the teacher, I have changed the specifics of Jill’s concerns to the following: rather than testing on the students’ ability to solve problems, this math teacher gave essay questions, such as, “Summarize Chapter 2 of your book.”

Through her own preparation, Jill had realized that she had backup plans and options (see the discussion of “Walk-Away Alternatives” in Chapter 12 of Bridges to Consensus). Some people are surprised to find, as Jill has, that knowing what she will do if the conference does not go well actually increases the chances that the conference will go well.

In our phone call, we embellished Jill’s preparation with some open questions to get the teacher thinking about possible change without directly finding fault with him:

• What are the advantages of using essay questions for a math test?
• How would you compare the math skills required to pass this test with the necessary English composition skills?
• How can we assess Susan’s ability to actually solve algebra problems?

After the conference, Jill reported to me how pleasant the teacher was. I firmly believe that one reason for this was that, being prepared, Jill herself went into the conference relaxed, and therefore, was more pleasant herself.

Jill did not even find it necessary to ask all the questions we had planned, but she has them in reserve. If the testing methods do not improve, she can go back to the teacher with the remaining questions. Or if she finds it appropriate to execute her back up plan (Walk-Away Alternative), she can ask those questions of the principal. And even if she never needs to ask the remaining questions, by formulating them, Jill has developed her skill in crafting open questions for other occasions. I can’t remember a single time a client has complained that time spent in preparation was wasted.

So, to motivate yourself to prepare for consensus-seeking conversations, just take the plunge and try it. After each conversation, compare your experience with the way you think things would have gone if you had not prepared. Consider the substantive results as well as your level of calm and confidence. When you see the difference, you will know from real-life experience that preparing actually saves you time and trouble in the long run.

And for detailed examples of preparation notes, check out Chapter 5 and Appendix A of Bridges to Consensus.

As some of you know, I often refer to Influence—the Psychology of Persuasion[1] and similar books for examples of ways “compliance professionals” influence us without our knowledge. Our decisions seem rational, but marketers, ideologues, and other savvy professionals can trigger our acceptance of their products or positions by, for example, first getting us to make a very small, and seemingly harmless, concession or by having the spokesperson for their agenda where a symbol of authority, such as a doctor’s white coat or a judge’s black robe.

Many skeptics claim these tricks wouldn’t work on them, but the data from test studies tell a different story about the majority of us. Not all those skeptics could possibly be the rare exceptions to the rules.

The Psychology Today article “Virtuous Reality,” summarizes several experiments indicating that even our moral judgment can be affected by sensory environmental factors. In one study, subjects who used an antiseptic wipe to clean their hands before judging controversial social issues, like pornography and recreational drug use, were more likely to deem them immoral.

However, hand cleanliness is not the only such trigger. In another study, those who sat near a garbage can that had been treated with an offensive odor were also more likely to judge things as immoral.

It is also possible to make someone’s moral judgment more lenient. Test subjects who sat in a dimly lit room or who wore sunglasses were more likely to cheat on a test or to behave more selfishly when playing a cooperative game.

So it seems that we can benefit from a think break and a change of environment not only when deciding about the subject matter of a prospective consensus, but also before judging the other party to the transaction as moral or immoral, trustworthy or sleazy.

When rethinking your initial inclination, try to do so in a neutral environment. Turn off the music and try to exclude other sounds. Adjust the lighting so that it is neither too bright nor too dim. Exclude both pleasant and unpleasant odors. Avoid distracting tactile sensations on your skin.

You might also find it interesting to make notes on deferred decisions. First note your initial inclination. Then, in your sensually neutral environment, reconsider the matter and note your current inclination. If the two differ, close your eyes and take yourself back to the environment of your initial inclination. What were the sights, sounds, tactile sensations and smells in that time and place? If you were eating or had just eaten or drunk something, how did it taste? Are your feelings about those sensory perceptions positive or negative? Could your initial inclination correspond in some way to those positive or negative feelings?

I plan to try this and report on the results in a future blog post, and I’d love to hear your results if you try this too.

You’ll find your interactions with other people working out better when you keep these resolutions, and that will inspire you to continue practicing your skills. And a one-month resolution will feel more doable than a one-year commitment.

Here’s your resolution for January:

During this month, whenever someone asks you to do something you can’t or don’t want to do, before rejecting their request, ask them why they want that thing. Make your “why” a sincerely curious question, not a challenge. Then think about whether there’s a way you can address the reason behind their request without giving in to the request itself.

For example, a coworker asks you to cover for him while he takes a long lunch. But you really need a break away from the office, and want to go out at lunchtime yourself. You ask your coworker, “What’s up today?” (another way of asking why). He tells you it’s his anniversary and he needs to shop for a gift. He can’t do it after work because dinner is planned for 6:30. You could offer to do the shopping for him while you get a break from the office.

Next, your teenager asks to borrow your car, but you want to go to the gym. Ask her why she needs the wheels. If she wants to meet a friend for a burger and chat, could she drop you at the gym and pick you up an hour later?

Whether or not your coworker accepts your personal shopper offer, or your daughter’s plans coincide with your exercise time, you’ve gained practice in asking why before rejecting people, as well as in moving from each answer to at least one alternate suggestion.

Refer to Chapters 5 – 7 of Bridges to Consensus to learn more about what to do if your alternate suggestions won’t work for the other person. These chapters will also give you many more examples of how to use the magic question “why” and will help you to refine your skill.

If you should forget and refuse another person’s request, and then remember your January practice resolution, you can still backtrack and ask them why whenever you do remember.

Don’t wait for a major issue to ask “Why?” Practicing on small matters will build your skill, poise and confidence for important issues, so try it every chance you get.

Wishing you all a safe, happy and successful New Year, filled with mutually satisfying consensus and brilliant communication.

If you’re frazzled, may you relax with a hot cup of something warm and mellow.

If your relatives annoy you, may you retreat to a hot, sudsy, aromatherapy bath.

If you miss friends or relatives, may your heart be brightened by the presence of young people.

If you feel joyful, may your joy last and last.

If you feel playful, may you play with the abandon of a child.

If you feel serene, may you bask in that serenity.

May love, peace and beauty fill your holiday season.