You ever walk into the bathroom at a nice restaurant, or, so I’ve been told, at a strip club, and been startled when you’re greeted by an older gentleman in an ill-fitting tuxedo with a tray full of hair product, cologne and other defunkification equipment? You ever notice that every single one of them has a little dish full of mints or candies? It’s not so that poor geriatric who has to listen to you dispose of 39 hotwings and 9 beers can keep his own breath minty fresh. The reason those mints are there is actually downright diabolical.
The need to reciprocate is a powerful psychological driver in human beings. If you pass a random guy who smiles and says “hi” to you, you naturally smile and say “hi” back. If you just ignore them and continue walking, people think you’re an asshole. This seems simple and obvious, but it’s a powerful weapon that can be used to persuade people.
The Boy Scouts have mastered this. At one time, to raise money for their troops, Scouts would try to sell raffle tickets door to door. It turned out that raffle tickets were hard to sell. Even if people wanted to help out some precocious kids, the idea of paying for some piece of paper that might be worth something at some point in the future, if you don’t forget about it, isn’t very appealing. But, the Scouts soon discovered that offering the raffle tickets for $5, waiting for the almost assured rejection, and then offering candy bars for $1, was like printing money. People seemed to buy the candy bars even if they didn’t want them.
Robert Cialdini, in his book The Psychology of Persuasion, cites this as an example of reciprocity. After the Scout has conceded on the issue of whether to sell the raffle ticket, people feel the need to hold up their end of the bargain as well, even though they haven’t really entered into any bargain at all, so they buy the $1 candy bar. That’s how powerful the need to reciprocate is. Even if the concession the other side has made is so small that it isn’t really a concession at all, people feel the need to make a concession of their own, even if their only opportunity to do so requires much more effort than the effort expended by the other side.
So when you take a fingerfull of some American Crew, or a hit of Axe to the chest, you drop a dollar or two in the bathroom attendant’s jar. Even though the product only cost him a nickel, your need to reciprocate compels you to hand over some bills. For those of us who don’t find the need to have erect hair or smell like a Jersey Shore character, the attendant puts out the candy, tempting us to take one, then grossly overpay out of a sense of obligation. After all, nobody brings change to a strip club. Which is why the best move is to keep your eyes on the floor and get in and out of that bathroom as quickly as possible.
The correct title of the Cialdini’s book is The Psychology of Persuasion.