Are you a patsy?
How a Run for Ice Cream Taught Me a Profound Lesson in the Science of Compliance
At some point every December I get a serious hankering for ice cream. Unfortunately, all the good ice cream shops are seasonal here. Open in spring & summer only. That means I have to suffer the crappy store-bought stuff until my beloved Heladería Ibense opens its doors again in March. At this very moment, I’m jonesing for some Chocolate Bonbón.
One summer, not long after moving here, I made way downtown to get my fix. And not just mine. I carried a handwritten list of the favorite flavors of everyone in my family. I was probably going to blow 30€ on creamy handmade ice cream that day.
On my way in, practically blocking the door, was a beggar woman asking for spare change. Encountering those who beg for money is no rare occurrence here in Huelva. A large Gypsy population, accompanied by a sizable number of Senegalese and other Africans who successfully make the dangerous raft trip across the Straights of Gibraltar, flood the streets hawking pirated DVDs and ashtrays fashioned out of aluminum cans. I get approached for cash all the time.
I blew right past her in my rush to grab one of those take-a-number slips from the dispenser. When the temperatures go triple-digits in the hot Spanish sun, the crowds can be unbelievable. At any rate, they finally gotten around to my turn when I saw the woman out of the corner of my eye. She was sitting now, sweating under the glare of the Andalusian sun and rubbing her aching calves.
I felt like a schmuck. Here I was dropping significant dinero on a fleeting luxury, when here’s someone who could probably get a week’s worth of meals out of that same money. I completed my purchase, and on my way out, handed the lady a few coins.
I was recounting the tale to a marketer friend of mine some time later, and what he told me afterward would completely rock my world.
He said, “Daniel, why do you think the woman was standing there specifically?”
“Hmm… I dunno. I remember thinking it strange that she would be standing in a shade-free spot at 3pm on a hot July afternoon.”
He clarified, “I can tell you right now. It’s because she discovered, whether through explicit experimentation or by accident, that she made more money there. It’s profitable on that spot precisely because of schlubs like you who walk by to enjoy a small luxury, and then feel guilty about it. It’s a COMPLIANCE TACTIC.”
EDIT: For what it’s worth, I completely disagree with my friend that giving to the less fortunate makes one a naive schlub. A few comments (both private and publicly posted below) expressed concern that recognizing compliance tactics and not allowing yourself to be taken advantage of could be used to justify a lack of charity. That’s not my aim.
He later introduced me to an amazing book on the topic by a guy named Robert Cialdini. It’s called
Influence: Science and Practice
In it, Cialdini talks about the subtle (and often, not-so-subtle) manipulations that can trip the psychological triggers in nearly all of us.
As fan of social psychology, and as a lifelong patsy, it was fascinating to read about all the techniques that part fools like me from their money. To this day, it remains one of the top 5 marketing books I’ve ever read, as it IS possible to leverage a number of these techniques in an ethical, “white hat” way, if your aim to sell via screencast (or via any other means, for that matter. But regardless of whether you sell things for a living or not, it’s all compelling stuff, way more interesting than a book on the science of persuasion has any right to be.
And trust me, as soon as you become able to recognize the compliance techniques, you’ll see them everywhere. And once you start spotting them out in the wild, you’ll find that they very quickly lose their power. Hucksters and snake oil salesmen, beware.
