Some people feel the rain;

others just get wet.

—Roger Miller

6. Information

Information is the heart of the matter. It can unlock the door to the vault called success. It affects our appraisal of reality and the decisions that we make. Why then do we fail to get adequate information? Because we tend to regard our negotiation encounters with people as a limited happening or an event. We seldom anticipate that we will need information until the occurrence of a crisis or a “focal event,” which creates a cascade of dysfunctional consequences.

Only under emergency circumstances and a pressing deadline do we see ourselves as embarking upon a negotiation. Suddenly, we are in the boss’s office, entering the car dealership, or about to greet the Sears refrigerator salesman. Of course, obtaining information under these conditions presents enormous difficulties.

In discussing time we saw how the end of a negotiation is more flexible than most people realize. Similarly, the actual starting point of a negotiation always precedes the face-to-face happening by weeks or even months. As you read this book, you are in the “process stage” of many negotiations that won’t take place for some time yet.

Therefore, a negotiation—or any meaningful interaction—isn’t an event, it’s a process. If you’ll pardon the analogy, a negotiation is like a performance appraisal or mental illness, neither of which has a precisely defined time segment. For example, if a psychiatrist declares that a patient is mentally ill on Friday, June 6, at 4:00 P.M., does that mean the patient becomes ill at that precise moment? Does it mean that the patient is perfectly normal at 3:59 P.M. and suddenly goes bananas sixty seconds later? Of course not. He or she has developed symptoms long before then. Mental illness is a process occurring over an extended period.

During the actual negotiating event it is often common strategy for one or both sides to conceal their true interests, needs, and priorities. Their rationale is that information is power, particularly in situations where you cannot trust the other side fully. Old horse traders never let the seller know which horse really interests them, because if they did the price might go up. Of course, it would give you a big advantage if you could learn what the other side really want, their limits, and their deadline. Your chances of getting this information from an experienced negotiator during the event in an adversary transaction are very remote.

How do you gather this information? You start early, because the earlier you start, the easier it is to obtain information. You always get more information preceding an acknowledged, formal confrontation, because people willingly let their hair down before the red light glows on the TV camera, to use a figure of speech. Once the red light glows, their attitude becomes defensive. They say, “Come on I can’t tell you anything now—it’s negotiation time!”

During the information-gathering period prior to the negotiation event, you quietly and consistently probe. You do not come on like a grand inquisitor but rather as a humble human being—a regular Joe or Sally, complete with “pimples.”

Some of us assume that the more intimidating or flawless we appear to others, the more they will tell us. Actually, the opposite is true. The more confused and defenseless you seem, the more readily they will help you with information and advice. So leave your bank-loan suit home and forget the makeup; a visible pimple or two won’t hurt. With this approach you will find it easy to listen more than talk. You should prefer asking questions to giving answers. In fact you ask questions even when you think you know the answers, because by doing so, you test the credibility of the other side.

From whom do you glean and gather information? From anyone who works with or for the person you will meet with during the event or anyone who has dealt with them in the past. This includes secretaries, clerks, engineers, janitors, spouses, technicians, or past customers. They will willingly respond to you if you use a nonthreatening approach.

In many years of negotiation, again and again people have told me rewarding things. One summer I had a job in sales, and I remember a foreman’s mentioning in an informal conversation, “Your product is the only one that passed our tests and meets our specifications,” and “Hey, Cohen! When do you think we’ll conclude next month’s negotiation? We’re running out of inventory!” Obviously I tucked all this information away and then remembered it when face to face during the actual negotiating with the purchasing manager.

Realistically, it may not always be possible for you to make this direct contact with the other side’s associates. On these occasions you can make use of third parties, use the telephone, or speak with people who have negotiated with them in the past. Everyone has a track record, and you can learn from the experience of others.

Another source of data is your adversary’s competitors, who may well be willing to talk to you about costs. If you, as a buyer, can gain access to the seller’s costs, you will have a tremendous bargaining advantage. This information is not as difficult to obtain as you might think, since many publications, both private (for example the automobile Blue Book) and governmental, furnish all sorts of data upon request.

Remember, what you want to know going into the negotiation event is the real limits on the other side, that is, the extent beyond which they will not go. The more information you have about their financial situation, priorities, deadlines, costs, real needs, and organizational pressures, the better you can bargain. And the sooner you start to acquire these data, the easier they will be to obtain.

In most instances, there’s more to gathering information than playing humble and saying, “Help me.” Generally you have to give information in order to get some in return. You gradually give selective information for three reasons:

  1. According to the Bible, it’s more blessed to give than to receive.
  2. Perceptive people won’t communicate with you beyond the chit-chat level until reciprocal risks take place. They won’t share information with you until you share some commensurate information with them. To persuade someone to advance to another square, you have to advance to another square, seemingly on an even-Steven basis with their revelations. This is mutual risk-taking behavior—the deliberate building of two-way trust.
  3. When you give carefully worded and controlled information during the “process stage,” you hope to lower the expectation level of the other side.

This third point is especially important because if you spring something completely new during the event, the response you receive will be, “No way—I never heard of that.”

If your surprise is close to the deadline you have a strong chance of deadlocking the negotiation. However, if you were to introduce the same new concept early during the “process stage,” then raise it several more times, at adroitly spaced intervals, the concept would become familiar to the other side. If this matter were now brought up during the event, the response might well be, “Oh, that—it’s been around for a while.” In essence it takes some time to get used to any new idea. Because it’s now familiar, it’s somehow acceptable.

Don’t be surprised, therefore, when you receive the initial rejection to your new request prior to the event. “No” is a reaction, not a position. The people who react negatively to your proposal simply need time to evaluate it and adjust their thinking. With the passage of sufficient time and repeated efforts on your part, almost every “no” can be transformed into a “maybe” and eventually a “yes.” If you allow a sufficient period for acceptance time and can furnish them with the new information that they have not considered in formulating their initial “no,” you can win them over.

An example of this was the American public’s initial reaction toward the impeachment of President Richard Nixon. When this idea was first raised, a survey was taken of sixteen hundred people, presumably a cross-section of the electorate. The reaction was 92 percent against, and the reasons given were: “I never heard of this before,” “Why, it would weaken the office of the presidency,” and “It would serve as a bad precedent for future generations.”

Three months later another poll was taken of the same people, and those not in favor of the proposition dropped to 80 percent. After the passage of a few more months the same respondents were 68 percent against impeachment. When the final interviews were conducted, less than a year after these people were first contacted, 60 percent were for the impeachment of the president.

How come all those people changed their minds? Obviously there were two reasons:

  1. They had received additional information.
  2. They had become used to what originally was a new idea.

Remember that change and new ideas are acceptable only when presented slowly in bite-size fragments. Keep that in mind when trying to alter someone’s viewpoint, thinking, perceptions, and expectations. For most people, it’s easier and more comfortable to stay in the groove. The fact that the difference between a rut and a groove is just a matter of degree doesn’t seem to bother them. Only through perseverance can you hope to change them and implement your goals.

When you finally arrive at the negotiating event, you must discipline yourself to practice effective listening techniques. If you are carefully concentrating on what’s going on, you can learn a great deal about the other side’s feelings, motivation, and real needs. Of course, attentive listening and observation mean not just hearing what is being said, but also understanding what is being omitted. People are reluctant to lie outright, but some are not hesitant to fudge, circumvent, or evade. When you begin to hear generalities, that’s your cue to start asking specific questions in order to clarify what is actually being said.

The study and interpretation of cues has become very popular in recent years. A cue is a message sent indirectly whose meaning may be ambiguous and require interpretation. Essentially they fall into three basic categories:

  1. Unintentional Cues, in which behavior or words transmit an inadvertent mesage (for example, the Freudian slip);
  2. Verbal Cues, in which voice intonation or emphasis sends a message that seems to contradict the words being spoken;
  3. Behavioral Cues, which are the language of the body as displayed in posture, facial expressions, eye contact, and hand gestures, where a person sits at a conference table, who nudges whom or who pats whom on the shoulder (presumably, in our culture, pattors have more power than pattees).

To further explain what we mean by behavioral cues or “nonverbal vibes,” let me set the scene. A husband has been away on a business trip for an extended period. He has lived as ascetic life on the road, and longing has built up in his heart. Walking toward his house, suitcase in hand, he notices that the light are somewhat dim. Moving closer he hears soft music emanating from the house. He quickens his pace as anxiety begins to build. Then he notices a woman, who appears to be his wife, standing in the doorway in a diaphanous gown, a martini in each hand.

He calls out to her, “Where are the kids?”

She responds, “They won’t be home for hours.” Now I ask you, is that a cue or is that a cue? To some of us the cue may be that we’re in the wrong house!

The point is that we all live in a world where nonverbal signals are being transmitted and received. How does a wife tell a husband that tonight’s the night, when ordinarily it’s not the night, Does she write him a memo, “Re: Activities for the evening—please disregard prior schedule”? Conversely, how does a wife inform a husband that tonight’s not the night, when ordinarily it is? The latter is a more familiar occurrence for some of us.

From the time we were infants, we all learned to communicate our needs, likes, and dislikes to others without resorting to words. This ability has remained with us, and it often appears in the form of a raised eyebrow, a smile, a touch, a scowl, a wink, or a reluctance to make eye contact during a conversation. These actions are all behavioral cues, or a form of body language.

People have become fascinated with the art of sending and decoding nonverbal messages (reading behavioral cues), as evidenced by the growing number of published writings and lectures on the subject. Authorities have even given legitimacy to this field by labeling it the science of proxemics—the study of space and the movement of people within it. As for the value of this wordless language in negotiation, it is definitely limited. The interpretation of most body language is obvious; nevertheless, it may be misleading to ascribe some universal meaning to an isolated gesture, regardless of the circumstances.

Here’s an example of a situation in which the interpretation is rather obvious. Because of an unexpected early-morning errand, you get a delayed start for work. Arriving out of breath, you notice that the boss is sitting at your desk. As you approach, he leans back in your chair, puts his hands behind his head, and spreads his elbows wide. With his eyes on the wall clock he casually remarks, “Do you know what time it is?” Assuming that the boss can tell time, you don’t have to be an expert to know what’s going on.

As for trying to catalog and give meaning to each and every body gesture, the following example should suffice. Assume that you are trying to sell me a service or a product, and in the middle of the sales pitch I begin to stroke my chin with my thumb and forefinger. What does that mean? Have I decided to buy or not? I don’t think anyone has any idea what it means. Freud wouldn’t have known what it meant. It may indicate that I have a pimple, that I cut myself while shaving, that I’m trying to make a cleft like Cary Grant’s, that I’m trying to cover my double chin, or that I have a neuromuscular habit that I’m unaware of.

Although I’m saying that trying to interpret one single cue in isolation is a waste of time, a sensitivity to what is really being communicated is important. If some people have become paranoid about picking up on nonverbal vibes, more people are completely literal. These are the audio-visual types who believe only what they can see and hear. Invariably they say things like, “Let’s put it in writing,” “Around here we go by the book,” and finally, “Why am I the last to know?” When literalists see the “handwriting on the wall,” they don’t even read the message but closely examine the penmanship. To paraphrase H. L. Mencken, a literalist is one who, upon observing that a rose smells better than a cabbage, concludes that it will also make better soup.

As a negotiator, you must be sensitive to the nonverbal factors in any communication. Even Saint Paul advised, “The letter kills, but the spirit gives life.” So during the negotiation event, force yourself to step back so you can listen with your “third ear” and observe with your “third eye.” This detachment will enable you to hear the words in their proper nonverbal context and enable you to see the pattern. In negotiation, cues are meaningful if they are part of a cluster and indicate the direction of movement.

To show the significance of cues if they are seen as a part of a pattern, I give you this case in point. Let’s say you are trying to sell an idea to your boss. As you start your explanation, you’re aware that the boss is staring out the window at a telephone pole. That’s a cue that in and of itself may mean nothing, like my rubbing my chin. You continue your discourse. Now the boss leans back in his chair, constructs a steeple with his fingertips, and squints at you through the steeple. That’s another cue. But in conjunction with the first cue, it may be meaningful. Nevertheless, you continue to pitch away. The boss starts drumming his desk-top with his left index finger. That’s another cue, continuing to form a pattern with the preceding two. Does the finger tapping mean, “Keep up the good work! You’re doing fine!” Hardly. A literalist would probably think, “Hey, my boss has got a Latin American beat!”

Now the boss stands up, puts his arm around your shoulders, and begins to edge you toward the door. That’s still another cue. If you’re halfway perceptive, the cue pattern is glaringly observable. (A literalist would ask himself, “What’s the story? Why this sudden affection? What’s this person trying to pull? I thought he had a family!”) But it is to be hoped that you aren’t a literalist. By this time you’re at the door, the boss’s eyes are opaque, and he’s nodding goodbye. I’m obviously exaggerating here, but my point is that the big advantage in reading cues is that in a cluster they furnish feedback concerning how you are progressing toward your goal. If the pattern is not to your liking, you can use your lead time (before you get to the door) to make the necessary adjustments.

How can we apply all this to a negotiating situation? The key piece of information that any negotiator would like to have about the other party is their real limits or just how much they will sacrifice to make this deal. In other words, what is the lowest price that the seller will sell for, or what is the absolute top figure that the buyer will pay? Very often this can be ascertained by observing the pattern of concession behavior on the part of the other side.

Suppose that I’m negotiating with you to purchase some expensive stereo equipment that contains advanced technology new in the marketplace. Let’s say for the sake of argument that all I have in my budget is $1,500. Since your product is new, you would like to get as much as you can to test what the customer demand might be for this sophisticated technology.

If my first offer to you is $1,000, and my next offer is $1,400, how much money will you assume I have in my budget? If our relationship is that of adversaries with little trust, you may well anticipate that I actually have $1,600, $1,800, or even $2,000 to spend. Why? Because the increment between $1,000 and $1,400 is so great that you probably will expect that I have more than $1,500. Even if I swear that I have only $1,500, and it happens to be true, you are not likely to believe me in a perceived competitive transaction. This is valid because we all tend to disregard the protestations of the other side. Our experience teaches us that the increments of concession behavior are the most accurate barometer of the true limits of authorization.

Accordingly, if the environment for negotiations is competitive, you see me as an adversary, and in order to achieve a collaborative result, I will have to play the competitive game. In this climate here’s how I should let you know that $1,500 is my ceiling. I make an initial offer of $900, which you reject. My next tender is $1,200. Then I extend myself to $1,350. After some delay I go to $1,425. The next advance is to a reluctant $1,433.62. It is easier to get you to believe I have $1,500 this way, because I have steadily decreased the increments instead of acting like a drunken sailor. Creeping upward as I just did is known as playing the “monetary-increment game.”

Some of you reading this book who are disciples of Howard Cosell may say, “I don’t like to play games. Why can’t I just tell it like it is?” Certainly that’s your prerogative, but remember that in order to achieve a collaborative result in a competitive environment, you have to play the game. If you don’t want to do this, you have an alternative: You can change the climate of our relationship to build trust between us. To the extent that you are successful, you can minimize the gaming. My point is merely that you take your reality as it actually is and must always operate in accordance with that reality. So to repeat: To achieve a collaborative result in an adversary environment, you have to play the competitive game.

This brings to mind an amusing experience I had with someone who didn’t play the “monetary-increment game.” I have a neighbor who’s a medical doctor, a “professional person.” (The definition of a professional person is someone who likes to make money but not to talk about it.) When his home sustained storm damage, he rang my front-door bell and said, “Herb, do me a favor, will you? A claims adjuster is coming over to haggle about money. You deal with this sort of thing all the time. Would you mind talking to him for me?”

I said, “Sure, I’d be glad to. How much would you like to get?”

He replied, “See if the insurance company will pay $300, okay?”

I nodded, then asked, “Tell me, what did the storm loss cost you out of pocket?”

He replied, “I lost more than $300—that’s for sure!”

I said, “All right, what if I can get you $350?”

He said, “Oh, $350 would be fantastic!”

What I had done was to get his commitment to an objective in order to avoid the possibility of Monday-morning quarter-backing on his part.

A half hour later, the claims adjuster rang my doorbell. When I ushered him into my living room, he opened his attaché case and said, “Mr. Cohen, I know a person like you is accustomed to dealing with big numbers. I’m afraid I don’t have much for you here. How would you feel about a first offer of only $100?”

I was silent for a moment, but the blood drained from my face. You see, I’ve been programmed and conditioned to respond to all first offers by blurting the equivalent of, “Are you out of your cotton-picking mind? Are you crazy? I can’t accept that!” Besides, I learned in early puberty that a first offer always implies a second and maybe even a third. Moreover, when he uses the word “only,” it means that he himself is embarrassed in mentioning such a paltry sum, so how am I supposed to feel as the recipient of such an offer?

After I snorted my disbelief, the adjuster muttered, “All right, I’m sorry. Forget what I just said. How about a little more, like $200?”

I responded, “A little more? Absolutely no.”

He continued, “All right then, what about $300?”

After a slight pause I said, “$300? Gee I don’t know.”

He swallowed and said, “Okay, make that $400.”

He said, “$400. Gee I don’t know.”

He said, “Okay make that $500.”

I said, “$500? Gee I don’t know.”

He said, “All right make that $600.”

Now I ask you, what do you think I will say now? Yes, you guessed it: “$600? Gee I don’t know.” Why do I keep saying, “Gee I don’t know”? Gee I don’t know—but it’s working like crazy. I’m afraid to say anything else!

The claim was finally settled for $950, and I went next door to get the release signed. My neighbor greeted me with, “How did we do?” and I blurted out, “Gee I don’t know.”

To this day, I’m not so sure that I did that well in this negotiation, because the adjuster’s unintentional cueing blew my mind. Moral: Watch the increments of concession behavior, since they send a strong message about the real limits of authority.