IIM Prof in Sexual Assault Case

Are you shocked? I would be if I saw a headline like that in a newspaper or on a television screen. But why should we be shocked? Aren’t IIM profs human beings like everyone else? Don’t campuses provide professors with plenty of opportunities for sexual assault?

When the former IMF chief Dominique Strauss-Kahn was arrested in New York for attempting to rape a hotel chambermaid, the whole world was shocked. Why? Aren’t IMF chiefs human beings like everyone else?

Sexual assault by anyone is an unpardonable crime against the dignity of human beings. But isn’t our shock in certain contexts unreasonable? Illogical?

The reason for such shocks is our expectations based on statistics. None of the several hundred professors who have worked at IIMs during the last several decades or are currently working there have been arrested for sexual assault. This zero incidence of sexual assault or arrest for sexual assault so far by IIM professors conditions our mind to rule it out in future. If an incident occurs, it goes against our expectations and we are shocked. But that it didn’t happen in the past is no reason why it shouldn’t happen in future.

The way statistical probability persuades our mind to adopt certain inconsistent and unreasonable attitudes is amazing. If I have intestinal cancer and my oncologist cheerfully assures me that I have a 65 per cent chance of surviving it, I feel happy. But do I have any reason to feel so? The doctor is giving me probability based on historical records. About 65 per cent of the people whose intestinal cancer was diagnosed at a particular stage of growth and treated survived. While such numbers are useful to identify any patterns in the past and to plan in general for future such as estimating demand for certain types of treatment, does it mean anything for me as an individual with intestinal cancer? None at all. Can’t I be part of that 35 per cent on death row as easily as part of that 65 per cent? Even if the survival rate is 99 per cent, why shouldn’t I be part of that 1 per cent? History helps only when the probability is hundred per cent. I know I will die because everyone who is born dies.

But we like to look at the sunny side, almost always irrationally. Otherwise why would we buy lottery tickets when we know that we don’t have even one-thousandth of one per cent chance to get any of the major prizes? Somehow we hope we will be part of that laughably negligible minority.

This shows that we are not creatures of reason but of hope, hope of the most unreasonable kind. Advertisers understand this and play on this. When they say, buy this soap or that shampoo and get a date with Kareena Kapoor or Aishwarya Rai, we go ahead and loosen our purse strings. 

Catching Fish with a Lasso

This week let me share with you my short article that appeared in Economic Times Corporate Dossier of June 3, 2011 under the title Cowboy on Horseback . 

If you’re a cowboy on horseback, even the wildest and fastest of bulls cannot escape your lasso. You will rope the animal so gracefully that it will appear almost effortless. You cannot, however, take this ingenious device to the sea if you want to catch fish. You will have to use nets or hooks hidden in baits. Or harpoons if your fight is with whales. The best of lassos will be pathetically inappropriate and the nimblest of cowboys impotent in encounters with fish.

Yet, in the world of persuasion we often try to catch fish with a lasso simply because we’re comfortable using it. Of course we get frustrated when we are unable to influence the target.

A recent case that has been played out on the global scene to chuckles and wisecracks all around is Libyan leader Col Muammar Gaddafi’s April 5 letter to President Barack Obama. It has all the ingredients of great emotional persuasion. The only problem is that it is a lasso thrown at a shark. Let us look at the brief letter a bit closely.

The opening salutation, “Our son, Excellency, President Obama,” makes it quite clear that the writer is focusing on a personal relationship rather than on the relationship between two heads of state.

The writer then refers to the moral and physical hurt that Mr Obama’s words and deeds have caused Libya, and adds, “Despite all this you will always remain our son.” Obviously the writer wants to arouse the wayward ‘son’s’ sense of guilt, then forgive him magnanimously, and reassure him that the relationship is intact. Signalling continued goodwill, Col Gaddafi goes on to wish President Obama all the best in his re-election campaign.

In a cunning move, Col Gaddafi then praises President Obama as “a man who has enough courage to annul a wrong and mistaken action.” This is followed by a few rational arguments such as impossibility of building a civil society by means of weapons and support for the terrorist outfit, Al Qaeda. He also reminds the American president of his own repeated assertions, including the one he made at the UN General Assembly, that the security of other countries is not America’s responsibility.

Finally, the Colonel asks Mr Obama to intervene for the sake of “friendship between our peoples … and for the sake of economic, and security cooperation against terror,” and keep NATO off Libya.

This is a very good use of emotion laced with reasoning to persuade the target to change the course of action he has set in motion. But we know that it failed miserably except to trigger ridicule. There are four reasons why the result could not have been different.

First, Col Gaddafi called Mr Obama ‘son.’ Even when not intended literally, it can be repulsive to a person who doesn’t treat the caller as a father figure. It could, of course, be different if Nelson Mandela used it.

Second, Col Gaddafi was trying to build on an emotional platform which was non-existent. Genuine emotion is so powerful that it is widely and successfully used to blackmail people to do what the persuader wants. Logic and evidence stand no chance against powerful emotion. There are numerous cases of powerful kings and queens and their modern equivalents going weak in the knees and doing foolish things as a result of emotional blackmail from people they love and care for deeply. As Birbal reminds us, Emperor Akbar’s grandson would be hugged and rewarded, not beheaded, for climbing on the old man and pulling at his moustache. Where there is no love, the rules are different.

Third, Colonel Gaddafi was attempting emotional persuasion publicly. While he might not have intended the letter to be splashed all over the world, it was not a secret document meant only for President Obama’s eyes because the Libyan official news agency also had announced the dispatch of this letter. Emotional persuasion is best attempted in private especially when you want the target to change a position that has already been made public. Leaders cultivate the myth that they base their decisions on principles and evidence. A political leader would not want the world to know that he changed a policy in response to an emotional appeal.

Fourth, the Libyan leader was trying to do the persuasion himself. It is true that as the person who has been ruling Libya for over forty years, Col Gaddafi has more power and authority than any other Libyan. But right now his face is unacceptable to the West. He should have used back channel diplomacy if he wanted to persuade any Western leader.

These factors apply equally well to the corporate world. Emotion can and does work there too, provided you have established your personal power over others. Don’t try emotional persuasion on those who don’t care whether you are dead or alive. It is guaranteed to fail. Don’t try emotional persuasion in public; you are unlikely to succeed. Learn to recognise situations where it is best to persuade targets through intermediaries.

Nelson’s Eye

They say you cannot wake up a man who pretends to be asleep. This captures a frustrating situation that many of us have encountered as persuaders. We see a replay of this at personal, corporate, and political levels. We do everything right, but our persuasion efforts fail because the target has decided not to see, not to listen, not to understand.

Let’s recall a well-known anecdote from Horatio Nelson, the British naval hero and the star of the Battle of Copenhagen (April 1801). Admiral Sir Hyde Parker commanded the British fleet that was trying to destroy the Danish-Norwegian fleet anchored off Copenhagen. From aboard HMS Elephant, Vice Admiral Nelson led the main attack.

As Nelson started his advance towards the harbor, Admiral Parker judged that a retreat was necessary because three of his ships had run aground and the Danish fire was much heavier than anticipated. Heavy casualties and defeat appeared certain to him. So he signaled to Nelson to withdraw.

The signal lieutenant informed Nelson of the signal from the fleet’s commander. But Nelson did not want to withdraw. He was pretty sure that he would win in spite of the destruction around him. Yet he should not disobey orders. So he raised the telescope to his blind eye (he had lost one eye in an earlier battle) and said cheekily, “I really don’t see the signal.” How can anyone blame him for disobeying orders if he didn’t get them?

Of course he went on to cripple the Danish and bring about a truce in favour of the British. And when Admiral Parker was recalled later in the year, Nelson was made the commander-in-chief in the Baltic Sea. But his tactic is something that many people adopt at all levels and in different spheres.

If you pretend that you can’t see the elephant in the room, obviously others can’t expect you to chase it out. When a powerful person or government adopts this tactic, there is pretty little others can do about it.

Americans, for example, consider it their sacred duty to reduce and if possible eliminate atrocities all over the world. They clearly see atrocities perpetrated by the Gadaffi regime against the people in Libya, and have intervened along with members of NATO. Through a press release American President Obama declared on March 28, 2011: “To brush aside America’s responsibility as a leader and – more profoundly – our responsibilities to our fellow human beings under such circumstances would have been a betrayal of who we are.  Some nations may be able to turn a blind eye to atrocities in other countries. The United States of America is different. And as president, I refused to wait for the images of slaughter and mass graves before taking action.”

Excellent. Highly proactive. But when signals of similar or worse atrocities come from their allies, they raise the telescope to their blind eye.

What happens on the international scene does happen on a smaller scale in the corporate world too. Have you come across Nelson’s eye in your organisation?

Big Bang vs Tinkering

The Indian government has been reducing the subsidy on fossil fuels a little at a time over the years.  Each time there is a tiny cut in the subsidy, there are angry protests accompanied by strikes and stoppage of public transport. Destruction of public property by protesters is not uncommon in some places.

The media report that the government is planning to withdraw the subsidy completely and allow domestic fuel prices to float with international prices. Having decided to eliminate subsidy, what strategy should the government adopt to persuade the public to accept it? It has two broad options: follow the existing practice of gradual reduction until full elimination in a few years or remove the subsidy at one go. Which is the better option?

If every price rise is accompanied by protests and strikes, isn’t it better to have a big price rise that removes the problem permanently? The protests should die down after a while just as they do after every small increase.

Let me stick my neck out and say that the policy of a gradual withdrawal of subsidies is superior to a sudden, single-stroke withdrawal in getting the buy-in of the public. Here is my reasoning.

We take small changes and shocks in our stride. We quickly adjust ourselves to the changed environment, which then becomes the default. Although it is true that every price rise provokes public protests, it is rarely that the government is forced to roll it back. The protests lose steam quickly because the vast majority of the public is not badly thrown off balance by a minor change. They may be extra cautious for a few days in the use of fuels and then fall back to their old ways.

If, however, the change is massive, the public response will be very different. A larger number of people would actively join the protests because they will all be deeply affected by the big jump in direct and indirect expenses. The government may be forced to roll back the price increase. It may even fall.

The only context in which a major change for the worse is accepted is when there is a palpable crisis. The year 1991 was one such for India. When it suffered the indignity of having to take gold to London and pawn it there to borrow money, the country became ready to embrace big changes in the way it was managing itself. In the absence of a perceived crisis, attempts at major changes are almost certain to fail especially when they affect a large number of people.

Companies know this very well and increase prices in a way that people don’t notice. When they want to raise the price in a competitive situation, for example, occasionally they retain the price and external dimensions of the pack but reduce the weight or the volume of the contents slightly. It is rarely that consumers check whether a familiar pack contains 350 g or 375 g.  I am reminded of the way American Airlines is said to have saved $40,000 a year by removing just one olive from every plate of salad it was serving on its flights in 1987. Apparently no one noticed the change until the story came out much later.

Are you aware of any big bang corporate change strategies? How did they fare?