The Joy of Detached Involvement

Negotiate This! By Caring, But Not T-H-A-T Much
by Herb Cohen

Negotiators are made, not born.

When global powerhouses are caught in a deadlock, the man they call is Herb Cohen, the world's foremost expert on the art of negotiation. Now the author of the New York Times bestseller You Can Negotiate Anything draws on decades of unrivaled practical experience as he teaches you that negotiation is not a do-or-die gambit to bend others to your will-but a high-minded game to master, to enjoy, and to win.

Negotiate This! and learn to:

• Detach yourself emotionally so you are able to care, but not t-h-a-t much

• Use Herb's "magic words" to achieve success in the toughest negotiations

• Never take no for a final answer

• See through what they say to understand what they really mean

• Succeed with can't-lose strategies that will make them say yes

• Know when to ignore deadlines and still stay in the game

• Play not to the power you've got, but to what the other side thinks you've got

• Laugh off the most dire threats.

Chapter 1

The one human freedom that cannot be taken from you is the capacity to choose your attitude in any given set of circumstances—to choose one's own way.

Viktor Frankl

1

A Gaming Mechanism

Negotiation is the game of life. Whenever you attempt to reconcile differences, manage conflict, resolve disputes, establish or adjust relationships you are playing the negotiating game. Truly it is the lifeblood of relationships. While people accept the importance of this learned skill in diplomatic dealings and labor relations they sometimes fail to see the opportunities that exist for them to gain a better mastery in their everyday lives via negotiating know-how.

For all of us, life is a continuing process of trying to influence others, whether it be your boss, a client or customer, a landlord, a neighbor, a banker, a broker, a medical or legal professional, an insurance or utility company, a salesperson, a car dealer, an HMO, an IRS auditor, or even a family member. We seem forever absorbed in trying to get others to agree with us. Whatever the case or cause, whenever you communicate with an objective in mind, engaging in social exchange to affect someone's demeanor or behavior, you are playing the negotiating game. Inevitably, your attitude and actions often have the potential to determine the distribution of available resources, the satisfaction of those involved, and even the nature of the relationship.

Please note that I refer to negotiating as a gaming mechanism or game, because if you see it in that light you will perform much better. Since a game is where you care— really care, but not t-h-a-t much.

Now why do I say that? Well, who is the worst person you negotiate for? Of course, I believe the answer is: yourself. That's not only true in your case; I know that's my own reality. Actually, to be completely candid with you, in the past three decades I have earned a lucrative living negotiating on behalf of others. Indeed, I try to have as my clients very wealthy entrepreneurs or large corporations with money to spend, who employ me to operate on their behalf in deal making. The way I am compensated is that I get a meager or modest percentage of an enormous deal. Would you believe that this formula works out well for my family and myself? So I must be pretty good at doing that.

Yet, when I negotiate on behalf of myself it's not a game anymore, it's my life, my legacy. So the result is often plainly pathetic. Now why is this the case? Do you believe it is because I'm lacking in self-esteem? Let me assure you that this is not so. Really, I like me one heck of a lot. In fact if I could be more effective for myself and less effective for you I would prefer it that way. But in truth I am better for you. Why? 'Cause I don't even know you.

Naturally I care about you, but not t-h-a-t much. It's that attitude that gives me perspective when working on your behalf. Indeed I suspect you already know that the best way to make a good deal is to convey to the other side that you are capable of living without the deal—that you have other options or alternatives. So as the "great negotiator" Kenny Rogers once said in a song lyric, "You got to know when to hold 'em and know when to fold 'em" and walk away. Succinctly put, the operative approach for success and satisfaction in all of life's interpersonal exchanges is to really care—but not t-h-a-t much.

Let me further illustrate this concept. About twenty-five years ago I was retained by a Chicago executive to help him finalize an agreement with the French government. We flew out of John F. Kennedy Airport heading for Paris. We sat next to each other in first class. Apparently, for him this deal was a vital matter that would have a substantial impact on the bottom line of his business. I learned this on the way over, because he frequently turned to me and said, "You know, this is a large financial transaction and I've got a great deal at stake." He must have used the same language about five times, so I eventually figured out that this was "a large financial transaction with a great deal at stake." From all indications he was under stress and he repeatedly asked, "What's our game plan?" In response, I found myself saying things like, "Well, we'll get in there and see how it goes." He kept shaking his head. "No," he blurted out. "We need more structure—you know, detail, specificity, meat— pith." At the time, never having heard the word "pith," I was somewhat alarmed.

Unimpressed by my vague replies, he took the initiative. "Maybe we should open up by blitzing the French officials. You know, take them by surprise, red dog 'em. We could even send out a flanker, and when they follow the flanker, we blindside them." It took me a while to realize that this man was speaking to me in an arcane, esoteric language. He was using American football terminology.

As you know, in any attempt to communicate with an objective in mind or any purposive social exchange, you should begin by determining the other party's frame of reference. As young people used to say, "Where is this person coming from?" Clearly, my traveling companion's paradigm was professional football.

"Okay, I got it," was my response. "In this culture, we don't want to appear overly aggressive or offensive, so at the outset we'll go with a flex defense." Surprisingly, he nodded like he understood this. Encouraged, I went on: "We'll give up yardage but we won't let them put any numbers up on the board." Presumably, this satisfied him and the rest of the trip was uneventful.

The next day, we met with the French authorities and from all indications my client's initial reservations appeared prescient. Right at the outset I made a substantial error. Note that I refer to my faux pas as an "error." Though responsible for the misstep I select a suitable word to describe what happened. Thus when I bungle I always call it an "error," because "To err is human and to forgive divine." In contrast, when you mess up, that's a "mistake," which could well be the product of gross stupidity and sheer incompetence.

As a consequence of my miscalculation my client was in an untenable position, which unfortunately he realized. He was upset—but not I. Of course, I'm caring—but not t-h-a-t much, 'cause I'm getting paid by the day. Unquestionably, because of this attitude, things turned around the next day and we concluded the deal with my client doing twice as well as he expected.

I now returned home to my family feeling rather triumphant. Walking into my household I was expecting that wonderful greeting that I have been expecting for decades. Only this time I noticed the atmosphere was particularly strained. Approaching my significant other, my wife, I asked the obvious: "What's wrong? What's going on here?" Quickly I learned that in my absence the family had organized against me. In effect, I had my own little "Solidarity Movement" operating here. It was like a welcome to Gdansk.

Well, what's the problem? Quickly I learned that they all wanted me to speak to our youngest child about cleaning up his room. To me this was trivial, as I try to concern myself with broader problems—like nuclear proliferation. (By all accounts the pubescent Amy Carter and I were the only people who worried about that issue.)

"Okay, let me give all of you another option. Get the kid to close his door." They didn't buy that. Successively they were on my back assaulting me with a verbal barrage: "Dad, things are growing in his room that have never been planted...Your son is a slob who takes after you ...He's corrupting the family chromosomes." And then came the final kicker, "Forget all the stuff you're involved in, Mr. World Traveler, this is the only heritage you're leaving behind."

Amid all this I became passionately involved with a twelve-year-old child. No longer was this a mere game. It was my life and my legacy. As it happened, I became so emotionally enmeshed with this kid and his siblings that I not only got out-negotiated but also humiliated in the process.

All this is to say that whenever a social interaction looms so large in your mind that you view it as a watershed event in Western Civilization, you're in trouble. You're caring too much and with that you lose the requisite detachment necessary for success.

There's a prosaic saying that when a person is overcome with feelings, be it anger or desire, he or she "can't see the forest for the trees." Oddly, or maybe fittingly, when that happens you move in so close that you might even swear, "There is no tree, only a knothole right here." In other words, what you must do is train yourself to step back, so you can see the pattern, relationships, and interconnection of things.

ITEM: In the fifth century B.C., the Chinese military and political strategist Sun Tzu commented about the wisdom of perspective. In essence he wrote that "during an engagement a leader should not be in the midst of his forces but a little distance apart. Otherwise, his outlook will be distorted and he will misjudge the situation as a whole."

Earlier, I said that negotiating often involves the managing of conflict. At times, however, some conflicts that come your way need not be confronted but should be avoided. If you have some perspective you can see things beginning to develop and use your lead time to adopt a blueprint of avoidance. Another strategy that comes with distance is to diffuse or reconcile differences before they even come to a head. Finally, a third option is to confront the problem directly looking for alternate solutions that will provide for joint gain and build mutually beneficial relationships.

So, although negotiation is a game, it is best played as one of addition, not subtraction or exclusion. This means that we must often dampen our adversarial urge and drain some of the emotional content from life's strategic interactions. Recognize that this encounter which seems so important right now in the long run will be no more than a blip on the radar screen of eternity or a walnut in the batter of your life.

Perhaps you are wondering whether the author of this book, someone with some negotiating savvy and experience, ever gets bested in business dealings. Interestingly enough I only have to recount an event that transpired last year to make the point.

As you may know, for at least three decades I have been on the lecture circuit, getting paid to speak on subjects ranging from international terrorism to professional selling to dispute resolution. When prospective clients want to use my services they either call a speaker's bureau or sometimes my office. When they contact my office directly to work out the terms of the booking they never get to speak to me on that first call. There is, of course, a reason for that. You see, my speaking fees are astronomical and there's no way I can honestly justify earning the kind of money that I do.

However, the people in my office who make the initial arrangements don't have my compunctions. When you call, they care about booking the date, but not t-h-a-t much. Consequently, without batting an eye they throw out that astronomical number. Usually the fee we quote is immediately accepted without negotiations. Understandably, it's due to our presentation. Consider, for example: "Here's Herb's standard fee. Now you would like his standard performance wouldn't you?" The retort is almost always predictable: "And what does that include?" Our answer is always the same: "First and foremost a guarantee that he'll show up. You would want that, wouldn't you?" At this point the prospect is transformed into a client when they blurt out "Oh yes." This occurs 90 percent of the time. In the case of the small minority, they occasionally become indignant and say something like "Forget it, I can get Henry Kissinger for less." Given this scenario I don't even know who these people are since I never work for them.

Which brings me to the phone call received this past year from a large information technology company in Silicon Valley, California. As the events were recounted to me, a female executive phoned to inquire about my fees for a specific conference to take place in San Francisco. To be sure, the dialogue followed a routine pattern. After discussing the length of the talk, the composition of the audience, and so on, there's invariably an inquiry along the lines of, "What will this cost? How much is Herb's remuneration?" or the standard rhyming couplet, "So what will the fee be?" At this juncture those in my office quoted the standard "astronomical fee" knowing that on occasion this might produce a contentious reaction, at least from that unknown 10 percent.

However, the woman executive on the other end of the line went against the norm and our expectations. What she did was creative, differentiating herself and her conference from all others. Alas, she was applying the theory that "A nose that can hear is worth two that can smell." While I'm not exactly sure what that means, nonetheless I know it works.

Instead of saying "How much does he want?" or "What do we have to pay?" she inquired softly, "So what would Herb's honorarium be?" Our initial reaction was, "Honorarium? What the hell is that?" Being somewhat familiar with Latin I know that when you translate it into English it means "You're getting less." And the reason I know that, is when people are offering me more honor that's going to leave over less "arium." Fortunately, the people in our office don't know Latin so they came back with the standard astronomical fee.

The other side's rejoinder was not emotional, nothing like, "Who does he think he is? Nobody merits that!" Rather she said, "We know he's worth what you're asking. What's more, our executive VP heard him speak previously and said his value is at least twice that amount. And if we had that kind of money it would indeed be our privilege, our pleasure, and our honor to offer him that. But regrettably this is all we have in our budget." Did that work? Well, six months later I was on stage at the San Francisco Sheraton fulfilling my commitment.

ITEM: In the golden age of television, Jackie Gleason's show was one of CBS's highest rated programs. William Paley, the network's CEO, was anxious to re-sign him, only Gleason wanted to be paid a then unheard of sum of $11 million a year. During the final bargaining session, the Great One, who was hungover, fell asleep during the argument over money. Paley, observing his condition, said, "Okay, if that's his attitude [caring but not t-h-a-t much], give him what he wants."

2

Voluntary Decision Making

Fundamentally, what negotiating is all about is voluntary decision making. Unlike the great growth industry of our time—litigation—negotiating in the final analysis requires two parties to say "yes." The difficulty, however, is that at least one of these entities starts out by saying "no," or at best they are not sure or profess reluctance to say "yes." So your basic task as a negotiator is to help move someone from "no" to "yes" or from reluctance to commitment.

Occasionally I am asked, "Herb, in your career have you ever encountered a situation where two people are saying 'yes' from the outset and they call you in?" And the answer to that question is "No!" Why would they call me?

You don't have two people sitting around a table in Dallas and one says to the other, "I think we would be willing to pay $8 million for your business." And the other remarks, "I concur, I think we've got a deal here. Now let's give this guy Cohen a call on the East Coast, bring him out so we can give him a portion of the sale price." Nope, I don't get those calls. I don't know who does, but it's not me.

Let me tell you when I get involved. Those two people are meeting in Dallas and the first party opens with the same proffer of $8 million. However, the response is drastically different. "Are you kidding!" the second guy retorts. "I'm offended by that chintzy, niggling, paltry, and pitiful offer, which I regard as personally insulting. Do you know my grandfather started this company, which by any measure is worth $80 million? Hey, the only way I might even be forced to respond," he continues, "is if you threaten to rip the tongue from the roof of my mouth. If you threaten to tear the eyeballs from my skull. If you threaten to maim, murder, and destroy my family, whom I love dearly, and that were a viable threat. Only then might I consider it. But as far as you're concerned right now, shove it."

Not long after, the person who was the recipient of that tirade may call my office. Interestingly, he presents the problem in a matter-of-fact manner. "We have some differences here in Dallas about perceptions. Perhaps Herb might come out and serve as a catalyst to facilitate things." By my reckoning I have made too many of these hopeless journeys.

Nevertheless, when I arrive at the DFW Airport, as I stride off the plane to be welcomed by the parties, I do not say, "Hi there, here I am, hotshot negotiator from the East ready to take command." Indeed to be honest with you the picture on this book's jacket is about as good as I ever look. Check out that photo and you know right away that I'm not a big believer in "dressing for success." Never have I been in a situation where people are saying "no," "fuhgeddaboudit," or "never," when suddenly I appear on the scene, immaculately and fashionably attired. Do you believe they look up and say, "Hey I love the way that guy's put together. Wow, that matching ensemble, the power tie, the cut and fabric of his garment. Gee, I was going to say 'no' but based on his clothing, make that 'yes'." The opposite may actually be true. Somehow if you look too good they expect you to make concessions. So my strategy in negotiations is generally to make the other side feel superior to me. In so many instances you have to work so very hard but nevertheless it pays off.

3

An Other Worldly Undertaking

Whenever you face off with someone in this process of voluntary decision making you're in an association with a dissimilar organism or a symbiotic relationship. By that I mean there are both elements of cooperation and competition involved—shared interests and issues in conflict. What is clear is that without commonality there is no reason to try for a resolution of the problem. So too, without discord there is nothing to negotiate about. Therefore, whenever someone says, "All right, I'll meet with you, but not to discuss this matter or God forbid to negotiate," you should regard that as an opening bargaining position. Unless you are exceptionally attractive or a professional entertainer, why are they spending their valuable time in your company? Evidently, they either recognize some commonality that exists or realize that an outright rejection of the meeting has the potential of producing detrimental consequences for them.

Generally what appears to take place in the customary negotiating encounter is that the parties first verbalize contradictory demands and then try to move toward agreement by concession making or possibly a search for new alternatives. This may suggest that the game may be sufficiently superficial to lend itself to a mathematical solution. Yet the truth is that what appears to be happening on the surface can be misleading. Implicit but often neglected is that the parties involved in this dynamic process through the trial and error of reciprocal communications are attempting to satisfy their needs.

There's the rub. We are dealing with sentient beings, unique complex creatures who are both malleable and resilient and who are capable of changing their minds but only if given enough acceptable reasons, time, and social support. As a matter of fact, a human being is motivated by his or her individual interests, but their "rational decision making" normally embodies some degree of intuition, emotion, habituation, and arbitrariness.

So when we run into conduct that deviates from our expectations, underlying it are experiences and a system of values and beliefs that we do not understand. This is true because all behavior, no matter how bizarre, makes sense from the standpoint of the actor. In this regard we could easily be talking about a spiteful ex-spouse, disobedient child, problematic in-law, revengeful former associate, or a callous bureaucrat.

Each of us is so bound by our own parochial assumptions, behaviors, and experiences that we frequently do not recognize differences. This is so even when we are in the midst of another culture. In short, you and I do not see things as they are. We see things as we are. We are truly captives of the pictures in our brain. Hearing words and observing behavior we construct a map only to learn later that our map does not depict the actual terrain. The point is this: Although automatic stereotyped behavior is prevalent and perhaps even convenient in a complicated and chaotic world, an individual human being defies classification. Each person is unique—one of a kind. Think of it this way: If there was anyone here exactly like you, there'd be no reason for you to be here.

All of which should suggest that if you want to be effective in selling your ideas, persuading others, or exercising leadership, you must start out as other-directed. That is to say: It is important that you see any purposive interaction as an opportunity to acquire information about the other side's beliefs, motives, attitudes, and values. All this means is that you want to see yourself as "other worldly."

Which brings me to one of the first full-time jobs I had while an undergraduate student. It was during the Korean War and there was a recession in the United States. Only in those days, they never told you that the economy was in the tank. When you couldn't find a job you thought, "What's wrong with me?" This fact was underscored when I ended up working as a commission salesman for a national life insurance company.

As I recall, the training program lasted three days and we were told to "dress to impress," display "zeal for the deal," and take control of the prospect by talking and telling. According to our instructor, selling was a high-pressure ritual dance of courtship, an assertive seduction pure and simple. When asked about listening to the customer he gave us the impression that silence on our part was a symptom of muted imbecility.

Surrounded by signs that read, "There Is Only One Thing in Life More Important Than a Little Money and That's a Lot of Money," we were encouraged to chant in unison, "I feel great, I want money." Despite our encyclopedic ignorance of our company's products and services, we were advised to use hyperbole as part of our stock-in-trade and when answering questions to remember that "a lie is not a lie if the truth is not known." (Parenthetically, this was a novel ethical formulation that came to mind years later when Marion Barry, the mayor of Washington, D.C., said "There are two kinds of truths: real truths and made-up truths.")

Our guiding principle was to control the discussion with an opening sales pitch, to be followed by twenty-two surefire ways of overcoming objections, and finally eighteen guaranteed techniques to close the deal. As young and inexperienced as I was at the time, even I realized that there was less here than met the eye.

How long did I last in this company? Very much like a dead fish, after about five days the smell got to me. Although this took place over forty years ago, there is still a misguided minority who believe that persuasion and selling is about erudition, audacity, appearance, and taking charge.

Copyright © 2003 by Herb Cohen

About the Author

Herb Cohen has been a practicing negotiator for the past four decades, intimately enmeshed in some of the world's headline dramas - from hostile takeovers to hostage negotiations. His clients have included business executives, entrepreneurs, sports and theatrical agents plus large corporations as well as governmental agencies, such as the Department of State, F.B.I., CIA., The U.S. Conference of Mayors and The U.S. Department of Justice.