6
Harness Peer Pressure

SOCIAL MOTIVATION

I was part of that strange race of people aptly described as spending their lives doing things they detest to make money they don’t want to buy things they don’t need to impress people they dislike.

—Emile Henry Gauvreau

When seeking influence tools that have an impact on profound and persistent problems, no resource is more powerful and accessible than the persuasion of the people who make up our social networks. The ridicule and praise, acceptance and rejection, approval and disapproval of our fellow beings can do more to assist or destroy our change efforts than almost any other source. Smart influencers appreciate the amazing power humans hold over one another, and instead of denying it, lamenting it, or attacking it, influencers embrace and enlist it.

THE POWER

In 1961, when psychologist Stanley Milgram set out to find U.S. citizens similar in disposition to what society believed were the crazy misfits, blind fundamentalists, and psychological wrecks who had marched Jews, Poles, and Romanies into the gas chambers at Auschwitz, the world was surprised by what he discovered. In fact, Dr. Milgram’s findings were so disturbing that he fell under attack from every corner. Nobody wanted to believe the data.

Mystified by what had happened in Hitler’s Germany, Dr. Milgram was interested in what type of person could be compelled to annihilate his or her innocent friends and neighbors. Naturally, blind fundamentalists who followed unspeakable orders all in the name of political zealotry would be hard to locate in the suburbs of Connecticut. Nevertheless, Milgram was determined to track down a few of them and put them under his microscope.

Of course, as a respectable researcher, Milgram couldn’t create circumstances under which his neighbors actually killed each other. But maybe he could trick subjects into thinking they were killing someone else, when in truth their victims would remain unharmed. To create these odd circumstances, Dr. Milgram ran an ad in the New Haven newspaper asking people to take part in an experiment that lasted one hour and for which they would be paid $4.50. Interested persons reported to the basement of Linsly-Chittenden Hall on the campus of Yale University where they were told that their job would be to take part in a study that examined the impact of negative reinforcement on learning.

While waiting for their turn to earn $4.50, subjects would chat with another participant about the upcoming job. This friendly stranger was actually a confederate of Dr. Milgram’s who was working as part of the research team. Next, a scientist in a lab jacket would appear and ask each of the two subjects to reach into an urn and draw out a slip of paper to determine who would perform which of the two jobs that were available. One would be a “teacher,” and one would be a “learner.” In actuality, both slips said “teacher,” guaranteeing that the actual research subject would take the role of the teacher.

The teacher would then accompany the learner and the researcher into a small booth where the learner was invited to sit down while the researcher applied special paste to his arms. “This,” he explained, “is to ensure solid contact between your skin and the electrodes when we administer the shocks.” At this point, the learner would matter-of-factly explain, “A few years ago in the veterans’ hospital I was told I had a bit of a heart condition. Will that be a problem?” To which the researcher would confidently say, “No. While the shocks may be painful, they are not dangerous.”

After strapping the electrodes to the learner, the researcher and teacher would close the booth door and move to the adjoining room. There the teacher would see a frightening piece of electrical machinery with which he or she would deliver shocks to the learner. To reassure subjects that the machine was pumping out real electrons, each “teacher” would be given a 45-volt burst from the machine as a sample of the initial shock the learner in the other room would receive during the experiment. It hurt.

The stated goal of the experiment was to measure the impact of negative reinforcement on learning. To test this, the teacher would read a list of paired words loud enough for the learner to hear in the adjoining room. The subject would then read the first word in each pair, and the learner would try to recall the second word. Should the learner get the word wrong, the subject would throw a switch that would shock the poor learner with the heart problems. With each subsequent missed word, the teacher would raise the voltage, flip the switch, and give the learner an even larger shock.

Despite the fact that the subject thought he was increasing the voltage with each new error, the “learner” received no electric shock whatsoever. Instead, with each throwing of the switch, the researchers would play prerecorded audio that the subject could hear through the wall. With the first shock came a grunt. The second shock produced a mild protest. Next, stronger protests. Then screaming and shouting. Then screaming and banging on the wall with a reminder that he had heart problems. Eventually, when the voltage levels exceeded 315 volts, the subject would hear nothing but silence as he read the words, raised the voltage, and cruelly flipped the switch.

Of course, Dr. Milgram knew he would have to experiment with a lot of subjects before he’d find anyone who would keep cranking up the volts. In fact, when Milgram asked a sample group of social psychologists to predict the results of this chilling study, they suggested that only 1.2 percent of the population, only a “sadistic few,” would give the maximum voltage.

When you watch black-and-white film clips of Milgram’s actual subjects taking part in the study, the hair stands up on the back of your neck. At first these everyday folks off the streets of Connecticut chuckle nervously as they hear the learner grunt in protest after being given a 45-volt shock. Some show signs of stress as they increase the voltage and the learner starts to shout. Many pause at around 135 volts and question the purpose of the experiment.

If at any time the subject called for a halt, he was told by the scientist in the white lab jacket that the experiment required him to continue—up to four times. If the subject requested to stop a fifth time, the experiment stopped. Otherwise the experiment came to an end only after the subject had given the maximum 450 volts—to a learner who was no longer protesting, but who had gone completely silent—giving the teacher the distinct impression that the learner had either passed out or died.

Clearly the subjects who continued to send more and more volts to their protesting, screaming, and begging cohort took no pleasure in what they were doing. It’s unnerving to watch clips as anguished subjects suggest that they should stop the torture. After offering their suggestion, they are immediately told that the experiment calls for them to continue.

Researchers watched and recorded the subjects, taking comfort in knowing that only a few subjects would administer much of a shock. As it turned out, “only” 65 percent of subjects would.

That’s the finding that got Milgram in trouble. He hadn’t discovered a tiny handful of Connecticut zealots and sociopaths who would gladly give their souls over to the totalitarian cause. He had found the vulnerable target within all of us. He had looked for the freak and found himself—and you and me. And nobody liked it.

What was going on? Why do human beings place such a high premium on the approval of others—often strangers? Certainly that’s what you’d ask if you were a social scientist. If you were a student of influence, you’d ask how this amazing social force might work either for or against you as you do your best to orchestrate change. You’d want to co-opt the awesome power of social pressure for your own purposes.

Savvy people know how to tap into this enormous source of influence in hundreds of different ways. They do so by following one simple principle. They ensure that people feel praised, emotionally supported, and encouraged by those around them—every time they enact vital behaviors. Similarly, they take steps to ensure that people feel discouraged or even socially sanctioned when choosing unhealthy behaviors.

The actual methods that influence masters use to exploit the enormous power of “the fellow in the lab jacket” deserve a much closer look. Whole literatures are built upon the foundation of social influence. Topics ranging from leadership to interpersonal influence to group dynamics draw from this same source of social power.

This being the case, we take care to narrow our search by first examining how social support can be harnessed for good. Then we look at three best practices that help magnify the power of social support. First, we explore how to make use of that unique group of people who routinely exert more influence than anyone else—the much-vaunted opinion leaders. Next, we examine how influence geniuses routinely assail not people per se, but their shared norms. We’ll see how brilliant leaders directly attack norms that would otherwise impede vital behaviors. Finally, we look at what it takes to create an entire culture of social support.

THE POWER OF ONE

Stanley Milgram clearly demonstrated that one respected individual can create conditions that compel ordinary citizens to act in curious, if not unhealthy, ways. But he also found the opposite to be true. After discovering that he could propel people to act against their own consciences, he began exploring which variable had the largest impact on compliance. Was it the size of the room, the look and feel of the electronic machine, or the distance to the subject? After conducting tests with over a thousand subjects of every ilk and under every imaginable condition, Milgram concluded that one variable more than any other affected how people behaved: the presence of one more person.

Dr. Milgram learned that if a confederate either shocked the person all the way to 450 volts or stood up to the authority figure, it dramatically affected how the research subjects acted. He could increase the already stunning 65 percent of all-the-wayers to 90 percent if only one other person (a confederate) gave a full dose of power just before the subject had a turn at the machine. Equally important, he discovered that the number who would administer the full shock dropped to a mere 10 percent if one person before him or her refused to do so. Either way, it just took one person to turn the tide of compliance.

This finding paints a much brighter picture of humanity and offers us a wonderful influence tool. To harness the immense power of social support, sometimes you need to find only one respected individual who will fly in the face of history and model the new and healthier vital behaviors.

Here’s how this works. We (the authors) once watched the power of stepping out against the norm at a large defense contracting firm. At this company the CEO was trying to transform a rather timid culture into one where individuals openly stated their differing opinions as a means of resolving long-standing problems. After months of lecturing, he faced a moment of truth. In a meeting of his top 200 managers, the CEO extended an invitation. “I’ve been told that I’m unapproachable,” he began. “I am trying to work on it. But to be honest, I don’t know what it means entirely. I’d appreciate feedback from any of you who would be willing to help me.”

For a few seconds, the auditorium felt like a morgue. As the CEO scanned the audience for any takers, he was about to break the awkward silence and move on when a fellow by the name of Ken raised his hand. “Sure, Bill. I’ve got some suggestions.”

With that announcement, the CEO set an appointment to talk one-on-one with Ken. As you might guess, from that moment on most of the water-cooler chatter was about the foolish risk Ken had just taken. Pay-per-view could have made a fortune selling access to the private meeting between Ken and the CEO. But in the end, the entire story came out—from the CEO.

After meeting with Ken, the CEO sent out an e-mail detailing the feedback he’d gotten. He made commitments to a couple of changes that he hoped would make him more approachable, and he was as good as his word. Equally important, the CEO sincerely thanked Ken for his candor. The CEO showed his genuine support of the behavior of being candid by not becoming defensive and by rewarding the person who had taken the risk to be honest—even when it hurt—and he then made personal changes to demonstrate his commitment.

The results were far-reaching. The CEO’s and Ken’s living examples of seeking and giving feedback emboldened the other 199 managers. Within months candor among employees increased dramatically across the entire organization. Employees began to open up and successfully solve problems.

Although it’s true that neither Ken nor the CEO wore white lab jackets, they did exert social influence. Both were respected individuals, and both demonstrated how to break from tradition and speak frankly. Had the CEO only given lip service to the proposed vital behavior, he would have doomed the change effort. Had he simply used verbal persuasion, his influence would have been equally limited. Instead, the big boss encouraged candor, embraced it, celebrated it, and rewarded the first person who had the guts to speak his mind.

When a respected individual attempts a vital behavior and succeeds, this one act alone can go further in motivating others to change than almost any other source of influence. But take note, the living examples of other humans exert power only to the extent that the person who is modeling the vital behaviors is truly respected. For example, when an HR manager at a midsized plywood mill we (the authors) consulted with tried to put teeth into a training program she was touting, she videotaped the president of the company singing the praises of the new training. The president ended his short, energetic speech with, “I encourage each of you to take to heart the concepts taught in today’s training.”

When the HR manager showed the video clip at the beginning of the first training session, participants jeered, hooted, and mocked the president. It turns out that members of the audience despised anything coming out of headquarters. They thought the president was a raging hypocrite, and his ringing endorsement only served to harm the training’s credibility.

Some individuals can exert a great deal of influence on one another; others can’t. So how do you know who’s who?

THE POWER OF THE RIGHT ONE

We’ve seen that one person can have an enormous effect on motivating others to enact vital behaviors. We’ve also seen that the influence of formal leaders (like the CEO and the guy in the white lab coat) can have a remarkable influence on the behavior of those in their sphere of influence. So if you want to influence change, it’s essential that you engage the chain of command. Smart influencers spend a disproportionate amount of time with formal leaders to ensure that the leaders are using their social influence to encourage vital behaviors.

But the bosses are only half of what you’ll need. It turns out that there’s a second and often overlooked group of people whose social support or resistance will make or break your influence efforts. To find out who this group is and how to enlist it, let’s take a look at the work of Dr. Everett Rogers. His contribution to influence theory remains one of the greatest in history and has important implications to how all parents, coaches, and leaders can best make use of social support.

After graduating with a Ph.D. in sociology and statistics, Dr. Rogers took an intriguing job with the local university extension service. It was his responsibility to encourage Iowa farmers to use new and improved strains of corn. What could be easier? The new strains of corn Rogers was touting produced greater yields and were dramatically more disease resistant, and therefore, far more profitable than current strains.

As Dr. Rogers talked with local farmers about the terrific new seeds he was recommending, he quickly learned that his education and connection to the university didn’t impress them. He wasn’t exactly one of them. Farmers dressed differently; their hands were rough from physical labor; they read different magazines and watched different TV programs. Other than speaking the English language, they scarcely had a thing in common with Rogers.

At first, Dr. Rogers figured that this difference would actually work to his advantage. The reason the farmers should listen to his advice was because he hadn’t done what they had done. He had made a careful study of the crops they should grow. He was now working for the experts in agronomy. In fact, Rogers figured that when he talked, farmers would be taking notes and thanking him for helping them increase their yields.

But it didn’t work that way. It turns out that Rogers wasn’t just different. In the farmers’ view, he was the wrong kind of different. He was naive. He was a city slicker. He had never plowed a field. Sure, he said he read books, but what if he was wrong? Who would dare put their annual harvest at risk by listening to a young fellow just out of college? None of the farmers. That’s who.

After being summarily rejected by his target population, Rogers grew increasingly confused and desperate. What good is it, Rogers wondered, to invent better methods—in fact, far better methods—if no one will put them into practice? The very advance of civilization relies on citizens letting go of old, inefficient ways and embracing new, efficient ones. And Rogers just happened to know what those better ways were—at least for the farmers.

What could Dr. Rogers do if people didn’t respect him (which they most certainly didn’t)? The very fact that he was the one suggesting the new idea prevented people from listening to it. Perhaps Dr. Rogers could get a farmer to embrace the new strains of corn. Then a person from within the farming community could point to the better results, and everyone would be jumping on the bandwagon. If Dr. Rogers could find a person who would be interested in trying the latest strains, he would be halfway home.

Eventually he enticed a farmer into giving the most current strains of corn a try. He wasn’t much like the other farmers. He was a rather hip fellow who actually wore Bermuda shorts and drove a Cadillac. He had a proclivity for embracing innovation, so he tried the new strains of corn and enjoyed a bumper crop. Now his neighbors would see the better results and be motivated to change.

Only they weren’t.

The farmers didn’t adopt the new corn because they didn’t like the weirdo in Bermuda shorts who spurned their lifestyle any more than they liked the pretentious academic who had the nerve to tell them what to do.

This unvarnished failure changed the course of Rogers’s life. He spent the rest of his career learning what happens to innovations as they move through a social system. He wanted to learn why some ideas are adopted and others aren’t. He also wanted to uncover why certain individuals are far more influential in encouraging people to embrace an innovation than others.

As Rogers set to work, he examined every known study of change. He reviewed how new drugs catch on among doctors. He looked at how new technologies, such as VCRs, become popular. He studied the latest gadgets and discoveries. As he pored over the data, he was startled at how many great ideas simply die. For example, when Vasco de Gama made his triumphant voyage around the Cape of Good Hope, he took 160 men with him. Only 60 returned because the rest died of scurvy. Fortunately, in 1601, an English sea captain named John Lancaster discovered a cure for scurvy. He gave a little bit of lime juice to his sailors every day, and no one died of scurvy. And yet it took almost 200 years for the practice to catch on. Initially the British were actually mocked for their curious practice, and the derisive term limey was born.

Rogers was shocked to discover that the merit of an idea did not predict its adoption rate. What predicted whether an innovation was widely accepted or not was whether a specific group of people embraced it. Period. Rogers learned that the first people to latch onto a new idea are unlike the masses in many ways. He called these people innovators. They’re the guys and gals in the Bermuda shorts. They tend to be open to new ideas and smarter than average. But here’s the important point. The key to getting the majority of any population to adopt a vital behavior is to find out who these innovators are and avoid them like the plague. If they embrace your new idea, it will surely die.

The second group to try an innovation is made up of what Rogers termed “early adopters.” Many early adopters are what are commonly known as opinion leaders. These important people represent about 13.5 percent of the population. They are smarter than average, and tend to be open to new ideas. But they are different from innovators in one critical respect: They are socially connected and respected. And here’s the real influence key. The rest of the population—over 85 percent—will not adopt the new practices until opinion leaders do.

So it turns out that when the fellow with the Bermuda shorts used the new seeds, he didn’t do Rogers a favor. As far as farming methods were concerned, Cadillac man was an innovator. He was the first to adopt new ideas in his community, and like many innovators, he cast suspicion on the “new ways” he endorsed. Since he was different from the majority of his peers in visible ways, and since much of what he did appeared to disrespect traditional methods, this made him a threat. He was neither respected nor connected.

As Rogers later explained, he learned that his recommendations would have fared better if he had carefully sought out opinion leaders to tout his strains of corn.

Given the boost opinion leaders can offer an influence strategy, it is no surprise to learn that the influencers we studied routinely use this powerful source of influence. For example, when Dr. Don Berwick and IHI try to influence the behavior of hundreds of thousands of physicians across the United States, they first engage the guilds, as they call them. These are the associations and research groups other physicians look to as credible sources. When the guilds talk, physicians listen.

Similarly, when Dr. Howard Markman tries to influence the communication behavior of couples across the country, he also looks for opinion leaders. He has found that if he trains members of the clergy to teach couples how to solve problems, the results are better than if an unknown outsider in Bermuda shorts swoops into town and offers training.

And how about the Guinea worm disease? Donald Hopkins and his team don’t consider going into a village without first working with the village chief or drawing on the power of a respected official. From there, the local official or chief identifies respected village members from different groups or clans who will be listened to when they teach people the vital behaviors required to eradicate the Guinea worm disease. Imagine what would happen if Hopkins recruited a person of no social standing to carry a lifesaving message that challenges old beliefs and norms. Such a person would probably be discounted in a heartbeat.

“The message,” Hopkins reports, “is no more important than the messenger.”

Interestingly, the power of opinion leaders is available even when you don’t have real opinion leaders. The TV and radio heroes we referred to earlier become opinion leaders. For example, in the village of Lutsaan, India, a community action group made a solemn covenant to educate their daughters after listening to the wildly popular show Tinka, Tinka Sukh (“Happiness Lies in Small Things”). In this poignant TV drama, a beloved young girl dies in childbirth after being forced into an early marriage. After vicariously experiencing her death, audience members wrote over 150,000 letters in reaction to the episode. Listeners were so affected by what happened to the young girl that 184 Lutsaan villagers placed their thumbprints on a large public poster in honor of their fallen heroine in a gesture of solidarity and support.

“Of course I will not marry off my daughter before she turns 18,” one listener told Dr. Arvind Singhal, who was commissioned to study the effects of the serial drama. “Prior to listening to Tinka, Tinka Sukh, I had it in my mind that I need to marry off my daughter soon. Now I won’t, and I tell others as well.”

Since Tinka, Tinka Sukh always featured an epilogue during which a respected person from the community asked questions, made a call to action, and encouraged public discourse, the show made double use of opinion leaders. The comments from the respected figure combined with the actions of the beloved characters made excellent use of social support as a means of promoting change.

To see how to work with opinion leaders, independent of other influence strategies, let’s take a look at what Mao Zedong did some 40 years ago. A terrible human being in most respects, Mao understood a thing or two about leveraging social influence to accomplish a bit of good.

On June 26, 1965, Mao lit a fire under the Chinese Ministry of Health, citing its poor record in improving health practices in the far-flung rural regions of China. Rather than wait for the stodgy ministry and medical institutions to solve the problem, Chairman Mao engaged 1.8 million change agents in the cause.

When deciding who would make up his population of change agents, he didn’t go with existing health specialists. Instead, Mao zeroed in on locals who came from the villages they were to serve, who were recommended by their peers, who were committed to serve the people, and who had a basic level of formal schooling, which put them close to their fellow villagers but slightly above them in education. In short, Mao chose opinion leaders.

These “barefoot doctors,” as they were later called, were given just a few months of medical training that covered basic preventive practices that could quickly and significantly improve public health in rural areas. They also learned how to treat the most common maladies. And to reduce risk, they were taught to refer more difficult cases to commune hospitals.

The results were immediate and dramatic. Health-related habits in rural villages improved overnight. Villagers adopted practices such as observing basic hygiene and boiling water; and they adopted these practices much faster than predicted. Mao broke from his traditional methods and didn’t issue unilateral commands or create harsh policies because he knew they wouldn’t have had much effect in rural China. Instead, he coupled support from the top with the actions of on-the-ground opinion leaders.

ENLIST SOCIAL SUPPORT

Rogers’s discovery offers enormous leverage to leaders, parents, and the general population alike. When it comes to creating change, you no longer have to worry about influencing everyone at once. If you preside over a company with 10,000 employees, your job is to find the 500 or so opinion leaders who are the key to everyone else. Spend disproportionate time with them. Listen to their concerns. Build trust with them. Be open to their ideas. Rely on them to share your ideas, and you’ll gain a source of influence unlike any other.

You don’t get to decide whether or not you engage the help of opinion leaders. By definition, they will always be engaged. They always observe and judge your influence strategy—that’s what they do. Then they will give your ideas either a thumbs-up or a thumbs-down. And since they’re respected and connected, they will exert their widely felt influence and decide the destiny of your influence strategy—whether you like it or not.

If you’re interested in engaging opinion leaders in your own change efforts, the good news is that finding them is quite easy. Since opinion leaders are employees who are most admired and connected to others in the organization, simply ask people to make a list of the employees who they believe are the most influential and respected. Then gather the lists and identify those who are named most frequently (typically ten or more times). These are the opinion leaders. Once you know who they are, enlist them and partner with them in your efforts to institute change.

Enlist Social Support to Influence You

On a more personal note, if you’re trying to change something within your own life, co-opt the power of those who have an influence on you. If it’s true that we’ll electrocute a stranger because a guy in a lab coat says, “The experiment requires that you continue,” what could we get ourselves to do if we could only find a way to marshal the social support of our actual loved ones and friends?

It turns out, quite a lot. For instance, research demonstrates that those who simply receive e-mails from a friend checking on their progress with smoking cessation, dieting, or exercise do a much better job of sticking with their plans than those who receive no inquiries. (This means that our friend Henry needs to enlist the emotional support and encouragement of his wife, coworkers, and loved ones if he expects to live a healthy lifestyle.) When diabetics involve a loved one in their disease maintenance, compliance soars. Social psychologists learned long ago that if you make a commitment and then share it with friends, you’re far more likely to follow through than if you simply make your commitment to yourself.

Better still, team up with someone who is attempting to make the same changes you are. Exercise together. Diet together. Work on your explosive tempers together. Encourage each other, keep each other in the loop, and hold each other accountable. We crave the acceptance and admiration of those we admire. So co-opt the power of social support for your own benefit.

Become an Opinion Leader Yourself

If you aspire to become an effective influencer, you should also aspire to become an opinion leader within your own work and family circle. Parents, in particular, do well when they remain a respected voice with their children throughout the developmental years, and not just until their kids turn 13. Despite the stereotype of all teenagers eventually dismissing their parents’ opinions, there are many parents who remain an important source of influence, even during their children’s most trying years. This doesn’t mean that their offspring eagerly embrace every parental opinion or admonition, but that their parents’ opinions still carry weight, even when they go against the wishes of their children.

Here’s what it takes to become and remain an opinion leader. People, including children, pay attention to individuals who possess two important qualities. First, these people are viewed as knowledgeable about the issue at hand. They tend to stay connected to their area of expertise, often through a variety of sources. Second, opinion leaders are viewed as trustworthy. They don’t merely know a great deal about a certain area, but they also have other people’s best interest in mind. This means that they aren’t seen as using their knowledge to manipulate or harm, but rather to help. If others believe that you’re missing either of these two qualities, you won’t be very influential.

But being respected and trusted isn’t enough. Opinion leaders are also generous with their time. They frequently rub shoulders with the people who look up to them, and when doing so, they speak their minds in a direct, healthy way. For instance, when we (the authors) examined the factors that contribute to employees’ satisfaction in their relationship with their boss, we found that the best predictor was frequency of interaction. Long periods of absence don’t help. Bosses who are accessible, talk openly, and spend informal time chatting with their direct reports are far more likely to be influential than those who maintain their distance. The same is true with parents.

So when it comes to drawing on the power of social influence, think opinion leader. Identify opinion leaders, partner with opinion leaders, and become an opinion leader in your own right. If you want to be an opinion leader with your coworkers, direct reports, friends, and family members, you have to be both respected and connected. More often than not, that calls for face-to-face dialogue where you jointly discuss issues, work through differences, and come to shared agreements.

THE POWER OF EVERYONE

Occasionally the problem you’re dealing with stems from long-held and widely shared norms. Virtually everyone has done the same thing for years—even generations. As these norms begin to change, everyone needs to talk about the changes before anyone can successfully act in new ways without facing ridicule and eventual isolation. Changes in behavior must be preceded by changes in the public discourse.

However, openly discussing certain norms is often considered taboo or at least politically incorrect. The chances for creating change in such cases are especially dim—unless, of course, an effective influencer finds a way to partner with opinion leaders in making the undiscussable discussable. Learn how to transform taboo subjects into a routine part of the public discourse, and you possess an enormously powerful tool for dealing with some of the toughest cases imaginable.

Make Undiscussables Discussable

In the early 1980s, the authors were invited to help a management team revive a dying manufacturing plant that labored in the very center of the industrial rust belt. The task was to increase profits in the facility by reducing costs and increasing productivity. This manufacturing facility posted a productivity level significantly below that of the average offshore competitor. If this embarrassing benchmark continued to drag bottom, the place was doomed.

To find out what it would take to turn the productivity problems around, the authors met with key personnel and asked one question: “If you could fix one thing around here, what would it be?” The very first person we posed this question to was a superintendent who had worked in the plant for over 20 years. When answering the question, he leaned forward, lowered his voice, looked around twice to see if anyone was listening in, and stated, “All we need to do is one thing. If we could get a good six hours a day out of our skilled labor force, we could make a profit.”

The nervous fellow went on to explain that while it was true that many employees were giving the job an honest effort, many weren’t. In fact, most had developed a lifestyle that depended on overtime pay, and, to ensure this overtime, they had slowed down. The majority of these free-effort employees were on the clock for an average of ten hours a day, but they were actually working only about four. So if they could just get six hours …

We couldn’t help but notice that the superintendent was talking to us in much the same tone and style of an FBI informant. He didn’t want anyone to know he was making this horrible indictment. People weren’t very productive, but this just wasn’t something you said aloud. He even swore us to secrecy.

Over the next few years we interviewed hundreds more people at the facility and surfaced dozens of other issues, but the first fellow had it right. He was dead on when he suggested that if you stated aloud that people weren’t working hard, it would put you in an awkward position. People would accuse you of being bitter, unfair, and insensitive. People would accuse you of being disrespectful of American workers. They might even threaten you.

To make matters worse, the public discourse at this time was very different. Every voting year, politicians would actually stand in front of cameras and brag about the American workforce and its unparalleled work ethic. The people we worked with would roll their eyes in disgust with each pronouncement, but they wouldn’t openly disagree. Nobody could actually say such heresies aloud. When we suggested to the leadership team that the influence strategy we had in mind would directly deal with low productivity, they told us that we had to couch the problem in different terms: We would teach leaders “how to hold people accountable.” So we did. Of course, when leaders held people accountable, they only dealt with safety, cost, and quality problems because they couldn’t talk about productivity. This issue was still totally undiscussable.

The next year when the labor contract came up for renewal, we begged the HR professionals who were going to sit at the big table during negotiations to bring up the productivity issue. They did, repeatedly, but to no avail. Eventually they were told by the union and company leaders to drop the subject. It was just too divisive, too volatile. They couldn’t talk about productivity anymore.

In a place where productivity was the elephant in the living room, nobody on the change team could talk about it. So we didn’t. We worked on dozens of different problems, teaching a variety of skills, and making dozens of changes, but we never dealt directly with productivity. Was that a smart move? Take a look at what has happened with the vast majority of America’s skilled trade jobs over the past couple of decades, and you’ll probably conclude that remaining silent about the issue was a huge mistake.

To see what we should have done to solve the productivity problem, let’s return to the Indian village of Lutsaan and revisit the mechanism through which the radio drama Tinka, Tinka Sukh affected public opinion. And although it’s true that the villagers didn’t face a productivity challenge, they did run into a powerful social norm that caused many of them great pain, and their problem was also completely undiscussable.

In one of the Tinka, Tinka Sukh story lines a beloved character was not allowed an education, forced to marry young, and died in child birth. As a result of the poignant episodes, the listeners in the village of Lutsaan were propelled to find a way to change the long-held practice of marrying young. But what actually brought about this tremendous change in norms? According to Dr. Arvind Singhal, the power of the show stemmed from its ability to force an undiscussable topic into the public discourse. Long-settled beliefs were suddenly opened to question and discussed at every corner, workstation, and shop—and eventually reshaped.

Before the airing of the episodes, millions of people had placed pressure on their friends, children, and coworkers to continue to honor the traditions of their past. This was peer pressure at its strongest. Some people had already changed their views on the treatment of young girls, but it was difficult for them to share their differing views openly without falling victim to public ridicule for not honoring their past. Many people were uncertain about the tradition and wanted to be able to talk it through, but once again, it just wasn’t done.

Entertainment education specialists applied the power of vicarious stories to the issue. They didn’t preach the evils of the traditional treatment of girls because, as we all know, verbal persuasion typically leads to resistance. But the practitioners didn’t back away either. Instead, they created a serial drama containing likable characters who talked about the social problem in the privacy of their home—while thousands listened in. The beloved family discussed the pros and cons of the tradition, and each show ended with the words of a respected narrator who merely asked questions.

As the radio family experienced its tragedy, family members modeled healthy dialogue. They helped others first think about the issues and then talk about them with their friends, coworkers, neighbors, and family. As a result, the topic moved from the dark into the light. An undiscussable became a discussable, and what had remained underground for centuries wilted in the light of public discourse.

This particular example may sound a bit far removed from the world you experience, so let’s bring it a little closer to home. Obviously the tongue-tied manufacturing leaders who weren’t allowed to discuss productivity fell victim to this same code of silence. We also found the same norm of silence in a year-long study of health care where we were trying to discover why many hospital patients contract unnecessary infections.*

When we asked neonatology nurses and doctors how infections find their way into the pristine environment of a neonatal unit, people would lower their voices, look both ways, and then relate very similar stories. First was the story of the physician who would periodically fail to gown up, glove up, or wash up as he or she should. The second story was of a nurse who, when starting an IV on a very tiny baby, would clip a finger out of his or her sterile glove to expose his or her finger tip. The nurse had a good reason for doing this; it’s extremely hard to find a vein on a baby who can fit in the palm of your hand. Nevertheless, exposing the finger was an egregious violation of safety practices—a violation that helped spread infections to babies.

Let’s not lose the point here. The problem in this particular hospital was not merely that a doctor or nurse broke rules. The problem was that there was a conspiracy of silence held in place by powerful norms that kept people from speaking when colleagues violated hygiene, safety, or any other protocol. The existing social norm called for silence. If someone screws up, you must circle the wagons against lawsuits and infamy. Never speak to outsiders about the real cause. And now for the bigger point: It is silence about the norm of silence that sustains the norm. If you can’t talk about it, it will never go away.

If you’re reading these examples but not wearing hospital greens, then you’re not off the hook. We’ve also poked around in every type of organization imaginable and have found this same code of silence that sustains unhealthy behavior. For instance, we conducted a year-long study of project management titled “Silence Fails.”* In it we explored the colossal failure rates of most high-stakes projects, programs, and initiatives. For example, the vast majority of product launches, reorganizations, mergers, and improvement initiatives either fail or grossly disappoint. In all, roughly 90 percent of major projects violate their own schedule, budget, or quality standards.

So we went in search of the cause behind these embarrassing results. At first we learned that 88 percent of those we surveyed were currently working on projects or initiatives which they predicted would eventually fail—and yet they continued to plod along. Most agreed that the expression that best described the state of their current project was “a slow-motion train wreck.”

Then we learned the reason behind the reason: Fewer than one in ten respondents said that it was politically acceptable to speak openly about what was going wrong. Most suggested that problems such as weak sponsorship, unreasonable constraints, or unmotivated team members were eventually going to kill their efforts, but that no one—including the project managers themselves—could bring the issues out into the open.

So, what could the project managers, health-care professionals, or the rust-belt change agents have done to solve their pressing problems? When it came to productivity, we had been routinely told that speaking about the issue in public would make people angry. We were told that talking about the problem would cast us in a bad light and only make the problem worse. And we listened.

Here’s what we should have done. First, we should never have accepted the argument that it’s wrong to talk openly and publicly about a problem. Critics often do their best to shut people up by labeling a topic as “undiscussable.” To confront this attack on open dialogue, we should have gathered data that shined light on the problem. Then we should have presented these data to the leaders of the organization as well as to the opinion leaders of the workforce. Next we should have discussed the inevitable consequences of not changing.

We should have insisted on a frank discussion of the pros and cons of the existing productivity levels—along with the underlying causes. The productivity norms had to change. That’s a given. But, more importantly, the norm that mandated silence had to change first. The same is true in all the examples we’ve shared—from hospital-transmitted diseases to project management failures. When you make the undiscussable discussable, you openly embrace rather than fight the power of social influence.

Create a Village

Now for our final use of social support. Some problems will never wilt at the mere glance of a stranger in a white lab jacket. These challenges are so large that they require opinion leaders to step up and lead the way. Other problems will go away only after opinion leaders take previously undiscussable topics and interject them into public discourse.

But there’s more. Still other problems are so profound that they won’t vanish, even if everyone talks openly and new norms are formed. For instance, some personal changes are so significant that asking people to embrace many new behaviors requires that you shape them into entirely new people; this level of transformation calls for the work of an entire village. You have to draw on the social support of virtually everyone. And when it comes to creating an entire village, Dr. Silbert once again leads the way.

It’s semester break at Delancey Street. All 500 residents in the San Francisco location have gathered in the family room where they quietly jostle and joke with one another. There’s an air of excitement. After all, it’s graduation day. This means that some of the residents are about to advance to more responsible positions. Others will move to a new job, and some will earn their GED. Even greenies may be ready to graduate from maintenance, where the requirements are pretty basic. But the accomplishment will be no less celebrated than the person who is about to receive a college degree—as a number will.

So here the residents sit, waiting for graduation to begin. Those who haven’t been through the ceremony before look terribly uncomfortable. They know they will be singled out in front of 499 of their peers, and they have no clue how to deal with the moment. Then before you know it, their name is called. They stand up and are told that they have graduated from maintenance. They have done good work and are now assigned to food services. Congratulations!

All of a sudden new residents hear a sound that has never before been directed at them. They stumble forward to be acknowledged as they experience the most pleasurable wave of discomfort they’ve ever felt. Everyone is clapping for them.

“It’s the most wonderful time,” says Silbert. “They’re crying. Huge clapping. You’ll see this huge guy who doesn’t know what to do with his arms because he’s so uncomfortable. And it’s the best thing in the world.”

So what’s going on here? Silbert knows how to gain an upper hand over her number-one enemy. Previously enacted illegal, immoral, and antisocial behavior required a strong social system to support it. Criminals run in packs. The distinctly different and healthy behavior that Delancey will demand of each new resident will require an equally strong social system. So that’s precisely what Silbert serves up. Delancey immerses residents in nothing short of a whole new culture composed of healthy expectations.

This means that from day one residents are hit by an unrelenting wave of praise and punishment. Remember, one of Delancey’s vital behaviors calls for everyone to challenge everyone—and residents do. Silbert has gone to great pains to structure positive and negative peer feedback into everyday life. And since frequent and crystal-clear feedback comes from people who have lived the same life, it’s hard for new residents to dismiss the data.

Part of Delancey’s enormous force for change stems from the fact that there are 20–30 formal and informal leaders who know everything that’s going on with each resident. “If your mom died,” says Delancey resident James, “others learn about it and all are saying, ‘Are you okay?’ We’re all checking on each other all the time. If we don’t watch out for each other in all regards, we’ll go down.”

Powered by an incessant wave of positive and negative feedback from people who matter a great deal to them, Delancey residents find that change is the path of least resistance. That’s why 90 percent of those who graduate from Silbert’s community stick with the changes they’ve made for the rest of their lives.

And yet it would be easy to escape the tendrils of the new culture. All the ex-cons need to do is walk out the door. There’s nothing to stop anyone from exiting; the locks keep people out, not in. But a strange, new, and powerfully magnetic pull draws residents into their new social network. For the first time in their lives these former drug dealers, hookers, and thieves belong to a group of people who care about their long-term well being. Sure residents receive more direction than they’re used to, and it’s often served up with the bark on, but it always comes with their best interest in mind. And when residents hit their daily and weekly goals, they’re embraced and praised.

Best of all, for the first time in their lives Delancey residents belong to a social unit that promotes pro-social behavior. Previous colleagues (usually gang members) wanted something from them, not for them, and they continually propelled them away from everyday society and into the hostile confines of state and federal prisons. Their new friends are real friends, rather than accomplices. They’re hell-bent on shaping their coresidents into healthy people who can make it on the outside.

So here’s the key to still another source of social influence—one that works for Delancey. Create an environment where formal and informal leaders relentlessly encourage vital behaviors and skillfully confront negative behaviors. When this happens, people make personal transformations that are hard to believe.

Of course, not everyone is about the business of creating an entire new social network, but there are social elements from Silbert’s work that apply to any influence effort. Reformed criminals aren’t the only ones who respond to praise. The need to belong—to be accepted and admired—is deeply human and affects everyone from riveters to royalty.

For example, Dr. Don Berwick and his team routinely influence one of the most sophisticated populations imaginable—doctors and health-care executives. Yet despite their sophistication, he generously offers praise. He constantly talks up what’s working. For instance, when he appears on Dateline, it’s always with a doctor or health-care leader who’s enacting vital behaviors and saving lives. “I learned a long time ago,” Berwick tells us, “that credit is infinitely divisible. Give it away every chance you get, and there’s always plenty left for you.”

SUMMARY: SOCIAL SUPPORT

People who are respected and connected can exert an enormous amount of influence over any change effort. Under stressful and ambiguous circumstances, the mere glance from what appears to be a respected official can be enough to propel people to act in ways that are hard to imagine. Fortunately, this “power of one” can also be used to encourage pro-social behavior.

When a required behavior is difficult or unpopular or possibly even questionable, it often takes the support of “the right one”—an opinion leader—to propel people to embrace an innovation. Learn how to identify and co-opt these important people. Ignore opinion leaders at your own peril.

Sometimes change efforts call for changes in widely shared norms. Almost everyone in a community has to talk openly about a proposed change in behavior before it can be safely embraced by anyone. This calls for public discourse. Detractors will often suggest that it’s inappropriate to hold such an open discourse, and they may even go so far as to suggest that the topic is undiscussable. Ignore those who seek silence instead of healthy dialogue. Make it safe to talk about high-stakes and controversial topics.

Finally, some change efforts are so profound that they require the help of everyone involved to enable people to make the change. When breaking away from habits that are continually reinforced by a person’s existing social network, people must be plucked from their support structure and placed in a new network, one where virtually everyone in their new social circle supports and rewards the right behaviors while punishing the wrong ones. Dr. Silbert shows us how to do such an amazing thing. No influence strategy that is less socially disruptive offers as much promise.

As it turns out, it’s the desire to be accepted, respected, and connected that really pulls at human heart strings. And as far of the rest of us are concerned—managers, parents, and coaches—learn how to co-opt this awesome power, and you can change just about anything.