I first notice it at work when Karen asks Dave if he has a minute. Under normal circumstances, that wouldn’t mean anything. People ask other people if they have a minute all the time, and usually the correct response is to assume they don’t literally mean sixty seconds. But this is the fifth time this week I’ve heard Karen ask Dave if he has a minute, and every single time Dave has gotten out of his chair and followed her somewhere. Monday she needed help checking something. Tuesday she wanted his opinion on a document. Wednesday there was a spreadsheet involved. Yesterday she needed him to look at something that was apparently easier to understand if they both stood in front of the same monitor. Today I hear, “Dave, when you get a minute, could you help me with this?” and Dave immediately gets up. No hesitation. No questions. He simply follows her. I watch them walk away and realize Karen has somehow developed a phrase capable of removing Dave from his chair. I probably wouldn’t have thought much more about it if she hadn’t used a variation of the same technique on me later that morning. Karen stops beside my desk, looks at what I’m working on, and says, “Hal, you’re really good at catching weird little details. When you get a chance, would you look at this for me?” That gets my attention for two reasons. First, I am good at catching weird little details. There is considerable historical evidence supporting that. Second, Karen knows I’m good at catching weird little details, which means she identified a useful characteristic, acknowledged it in a flattering manner, and immediately followed that acknowledgment with a request requiring the exact characteristic she had just praised. I tell her I’ll look at it. Ten minutes later, I’m reviewing her document. That’s when I realize what happened. She got me too.
I lean back in my chair and look across the office at Karen. She’s working quietly, apparently unaware that I’ve identified the mechanism. Dave comes back and asks why I’m staring at her. I tell him I think Karen has figured out how to get people to do things. He looks toward her, then back at me, and asks what she did. I explain that she complimented my attention to detail immediately before asking me to perform a task requiring attention to detail. Dave says, “So she asked you for help.” I tell him that ignores the sequence. She didn’t simply ask. She established the desired characteristic first, reinforced it positively, and then presented me with an opportunity to demonstrate that characteristic. Dave stares at me for several seconds before saying, “She complimented you, Hal.” I tell him that reducing the process to its individual components doesn’t make the process less effective. He goes back to his desk, and I make a mental note that Dave may already be too deeply conditioned to provide an objective assessment.
By the time I get home, I’ve decided not to mention any of this to Pandora until I have more evidence. That decision lasts until I walk into the kitchen and find John drinking coffee from Pandora’s favorite mug. Pandora is sitting at the table with her laptop, apparently unconcerned that her mug is currently in the possession of our roommate, while Mr Whiskers is stretched across the windowsill pretending to be asleep. I point at the mug and ask John why he’s using it. He looks down at it as though he hadn’t previously noticed what he was drinking from and says all the other mugs were in the dishwasher. Pandora tells me she said he could use hers. John adds, “She said I make better coffee anyway, so I made her a cup too.” I stop taking off my jacket. There it is again. I ask Pandora exactly how that conversation happened. She looks confused, so John explains. He came into the kitchen, Pandora was working, she told him he makes better coffee than she does and asked whether he would make enough for both of them, and he did. This resulted in Pandora obtaining coffee without leaving her chair. John says this as though it settles the matter. I tell him it actually makes the matter considerably more interesting.
Pandora asks what matter we’re discussing, and because I now have two independent examples from two separate environments, I explain what happened with Karen at work. Pandora listens to the entire story without interrupting. When I finish, she says, “Karen asked you for help.” I tell her that was Dave’s interpretation too. She says that’s because Dave is correct. I explain that Karen first told me I was good at noticing details and then asked me to notice details. Pandora points toward John and says, “And I told John he makes good coffee because John makes good coffee.” John raises his mug slightly in acknowledgment. I tell them I’m not accusing anyone of anything. I’m merely observing that positive reinforcement immediately preceding a request appears to increase compliance. Pandora says, “You mean being nice?” I tell her that may be the informal term. At that moment, Mr Whiskers jumps down from the windowsill and walks over to me. He rubs against my leg, purrs, and looks up at me. I scratch behind his ears. He leans into my hand for several seconds, then walks directly toward his food bowl and sits beside it.
I stop scratching. Pandora sees my face and immediately says, “No.” I point at Mr Whiskers. “That.” She asks what I’m talking about, and I explain that he established positive contact first. Pandora reminds me that he rubbed against my leg. “Then he directed me toward the desired outcome,” I tell her. She says he wants dinner. “Exactly.” John starts laughing. Mr Whiskers meows. I feed him. This does not strengthen my position.
Over dinner, I continue thinking about it. Not obsessively. Methodically. Karen gets Dave to help by asking politely. Karen gets me to review a document by complimenting something I’m good at. Pandora gets John to make coffee by telling him he makes good coffee. Mr Whiskers gets me to feed him by rubbing against my leg. Four examples. Three humans and one cat. Different environments. Same general mechanism. The only question is whether this is manipulation or simply how social interaction works, and I’m beginning to suspect the distinction may depend entirely on whether you notice it happening. Then Pandora asks if I liked dinner. I tell her it was really good. She smiles and says, “Thanks. Would you mind loading the dishwasher tonight?” I stop chewing. Pandora keeps eating. John looks at me. I look at him. He immediately looks down at his plate because he knows. “You did that on purpose,” I tell Pandora. She asks what she supposedly did, and I explain that she obtained positive feedback before making the request. Pandora starts laughing. “I asked whether you liked dinner.” I point out that once I had established that I did, she asked me to perform a household task. She reminds me I was going to load the dishwasher anyway. I tell her that is irrelevant to the methodology. John says, “Actually, I think it makes the methodology unnecessary.” I tell him nobody asked for his analysis.
Mr Whiskers, who has finished eating, walks over to Pandora and rubs against her leg. She reaches down and scratches his head. He immediately jumps into her lap. I point at him and say, “Again.” Pandora looks down at the cat and tells me he wanted to sit on her lap. I explain that he initiated affection before requesting access. She reminds me, once again, that he’s a cat. I tell her that defense is becoming less convincing. The next morning at work, I decide to test the theory. Not manipulate anyone. Test it. There’s a difference. I need Dave to send me something, so instead of simply asking, I walk over to his desk and tell him he’s always been very good about keeping his files organized. Dave looks at me suspiciously. I tell him I was wondering if he could send me the document we discussed yesterday. He stares at me for a moment, then slowly smiles. “You’re doing the Karen thing.” That’s a problem. If the technique becomes obvious when I use it, then either I’m doing it incorrectly or Karen is considerably better at it than I am. I ask Dave which he thinks it is. He says, “Neither. You’re just being weird.” Then he sends me the document anyway. Which means it worked.
I spend the rest of the morning paying closer attention to Karen. What I discover is disturbing mainly because of how ordinary it is. She thanks people when they help her. She asks rather than demands. She remembers what people are good at. She offers to help other people when they need something. She occasionally brings coffee back for someone if she’s getting one herself. People therefore seem generally willing to help her when she asks. There is no secret technique. No carefully constructed psychological operation. Karen is just pleasant to work with. This should resolve the matter. Instead, it gives me a new problem.
When I get home, John is in the living room reading. Pandora is on the couch with Mr Whiskers curled against her leg. I sit down and explain that I’ve completed my investigation into Karen. Pandora lowers her book and asks whether Karen has been cleared of manipulation. I tell her technically yes. Karen appears to have discovered that if you treat people well, they are more inclined to help you later. John says, “Congratulations. You discovered friendship.” I ignore that. Pandora asks whether I learned anything useful, and I tell her I did. Then I look at her and say, “You’re really good at making coffee. Would you mind making me a cup?” Pandora stares at me. John lowers his book. I continue waiting. For approximately two seconds, I think I’ve mastered it. Then Pandora says, “You’re really good at making your own.” John nearly falls off the couch laughing. Mr Whiskers opens one eye. I get up and make my own coffee.
As I walk toward the kitchen, Pandora calls after me, “Since you’re already in there, would you make me one too?” I stop. John is still laughing. I turn around and look at Pandora. She smiles. I’m not saying Karen taught her anything. I’m just saying the timing is suspicious.
