Persuasion is the art of getting other people to want what you want without having to use a baseball bat, a crowbar, or a PowerPoint deck that makes them wish you’d used the baseball bat.
If humans were rational, persuasion would be easy. You’d just present your argument like a neat little tray of facts, and they would accept it. But persuasion isn’t all about logic and evidence. It’s about emotion, identity, mood, status, pride, resentment, what they ate for lunch, and whether they’ve decided you remind them of someone who was mean to them in eighth grade. You can be completely correct and still get treated like you’ve just announced you enjoy kicking puppies.
But this doesn’t mean you can just throw your hands up. Being persuasive is ridiculously important. It’s not a nice-to-have. It’s a vital “soft skill,” which is corporate code for “we can’t measure it, but we’ll punish you for not having it.”
Persuasion is the difference between “successful professional” and “person who eats cereal over the sink at midnight while whispering ‘why won’t anyone listen to me’ into the spoon.” If you can’t persuade, you can still live a life. But it will be a life spent watching doors close.
So it’s time to review the research and get the answers on how to be more persuasive without everyone around you saying, “Do I smell brimstone?”
Let’s get to it…
The principle is simple: give something of value first and when you later ask for something, people are more likely to say yes.
We’re trained from childhood: share toys, say thank you, return favors. It’s hammered in so deeply that your adult brain can be screaming, “THIS IS A MARKETING TACTIC,” while your inner caveman is already handing over your wallet like: “They gave us berry. We must give them mammoth.”
If you’re going to use reciprocity ethically, here’s the rule of thumb: give something valuable that stands on its own, with no strings. For instance:
Match the gift to the person. Reciprocity is strongest when the “value” is the kind they actually care about. And crucially: make the return optional. You’re not trying to create guilt. You’re trying to create goodwill.
And look, sure. Reciprocity can be weaponized. But reciprocity itself isn’t evil. It’s one of the reasons communities don’t collapse into feral chaos. The impulse to repay kindness is basically the grease in the machine of cooperation. Without it, society would be a grim wasteland of everyone shouting “NOT MY PROBLEM” while pushing each other into potholes.
(To learn how hostage negotiators persuade, click here.)
You should read the next tip because it will definitely help you…
The Because Principle is the well-established phenomenon by which the inclusion of the word “because”, followed by nearly any reason (whether robust or merely reason-shaped) dramatically increases compliance with a request.
In a famous 1978 study, a psychologist approached people waiting to use a copy machine and asked to cut in line. In one condition, the request was basic: “Excuse me, I have 5 pages. May I use the Xerox machine?” About 60% of people agreed. In another condition, the requester added a weak reason: “May I use the Xerox machine, because I have to make copies?”, which is almost a tautology. Compliance shot up to 93%. Giving a real reason (“because I’m in a rush”) yielded about 94% compliance.
What’s going on here? “Because” is a little nod to the other person’s humanity: I’m not just ordering you around; I’m giving context. If you ask me to do something with no reason, it feels like a demand. My instinct is to protect myself. But when you give me a reason, even a small one, it signals you recognize I’m a person. Compare:
A justification allows people to say yes without feeling like they’ve surrendered autonomy.
(To learn how neuroscience can make you more persuasive, click here.)
You should keep reading. Everybody says it’ll help you…
Social proof is the idea that we decide what’s true, good, safe, or fashionable by watching what other people are doing. Think “Bestseller” labels. “Trending now.” “Most popular.”
They’re thinking, “Will I feel stupid if I choose this and it’s bad?” Social proof answers: No, because thousands of others chose it too. It offers a kind of shared liability. If it’s a mistake, it’s a communal mistake, and communal mistakes feel like culture.
If you’ve ever tried to make a choice in modern life, you know why it works. We’re drowning in options. There are fourteen kinds of salt. There are streaming services dedicated to showing you documentaries about other streaming services. So we outsource. The gulf between “never heard of it” and “my friend has one” is incalculable. (Think social proof doesn’t work on you? Sure. You, the person who reads the room before laughing. Don’t make me open a can of Solomon-Whoop-Asch on you.)
Social proof is helpful when it behaves like reassurance rather than peer pressure. Used ethically, it tells the other person they’re not walking into a trap you’ve dug and covered with leaves.
(To learn more from the leading expert on persuasion, click here.)
Next one is obvious, but we forget it all the time. By the way, your hair looks wonderful today…
We’re more easily persuaded by people we like. Shocking, I know. Warmth is security clearance.
You can increase liking with something as simple as conveying similarity. We are absurdly vulnerable to similarity because it signals safety. It tells the brain, “This one is like us.” And “like us” is a powerful drug.
THEM: “I’m from Cleveland.”
YOU: “Cleveland? My uncle once drove through Cleveland!”
THEM: “Then you understand me spiritually. I would follow you into battle.”
To take it to the next level, try a sincere compliment. If someone says to me, “You handled that really well,” I will remember it for seven years. I will bring it up in my mind while I’m trying to fall asleep, like it’s a bedtime story.
I once agreed to attend a party I didn’t want to go to because someone told me, “You’re always funny at parties.” This was not only manipulation; it was a lie. I am not funny at parties. I am occasionally funny in text messages, when I have time to draft, edit, and delete my personality. I went to the party, where I immediately spilled a drink, laughed too loudly at a joke I didn’t understand, and spent the rest of the night pretending to be fascinated by someone’s opinion on countertop materials.
Liking works. Not because people are stupid (though, to be clear, we do work very hard at it), but because rapport isn’t just a trick. When it’s real, it’s connection. It’s the difference between “I’m trying to get something from you” and “I’m trying to build something with you.” And I know it’s cynical to frame it as persuasion (and it is persuasion) but it’s also the only way any of us survive interacting with each other without biting.
(To learn an FBI behavior expert’s tips for getting people to like you, click here.)
The next insight is odd but powerful. You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to…
You can dramatically increase the chance that someone says “yes” to your request by reminding them they can say “no”.
Yes, really.
Inside every human being is a petty little creature that hates being told what to do. A small spite monster who wakes up the moment it senses coercion and starts throwing furniture. It’s why you can be perfectly happy to do something until someone orders you to do it, and suddenly you’d rather swallow a bowl of staples than comply. That reaction has a name: reactance, which is the mind’s way of shouting “YOU’RE NOT MY REAL DAD.” It’s why those cheerful pop-ups that say, “DON’T MISS OUT!” make you want to miss out on principle.
Obviously, using this principle isn’t hard. You’re not offering them money or chocolate or a signed photo of Keanu Reeves. You’re simply saying, out loud, the thing that should already be true: “You can say no.” It’s a small act of respect. It’s a way of saying: “I’m not entitled to you. I’m not trying to trap you in politeness.” It makes “yes” feel like a choice rather than a concession.
(To learn how to make your writing more persuasive, click here.)
We’re not running out of insights. But if we were, you’d definitely read the next one…
Scarcity is the principle that opportunities seem more valuable when their availability is limited.
Tell people there’s a perfectly decent offer available whenever they feel like it, and they’ll treat it the way they treat “sorting out their 401k”: a vague concept that lives in the future alongside flying cars and personal responsibility.
None of us are immune. If something is always available, I treat it like meh. But the minute something becomes scarce? “While supplies last”? I become the kind of person who would throw an elbow at a grandma for the last discounted air fryer, even though I do not need an air fryer and I do not need enemies in the senior community.
Artificial urgency is coercion. But revealing organic constraints can help people overcome indecision and procrastination. Time is real. Attention is finite. If something genuinely has a window, saying so isn’t manipulative; it’s clarity. The ethical line is simple: reveal reality, don’t manufacture panic.
(To learn the magic words that increase persuasion, click here.)
Last tip, coming up. Imagine if you had to read all the underlying research like I do. A few more paragraphs is nothing, comparatively…
Framing means presenting the same situation in a way that emphasizes one aspect over another without altering the underlying facts.
You could frame a surgical procedure as: “This has a 90% survival rate.” People think: “Nice! Odds are in my favor. I will continue being alive, which I’ve grown fond of.”
Or you could say, “This has a 10% mortality rate.” People think: “So I’m gonna die?”
Same numbers. Same reality. Different feeling. And feelings, inconveniently, are the steering wheel most of us drive with.
Contrast is how we decide what something is worth. Not in absolute terms, but relative to what we compare it to. It’s how a $20 entrée becomes “reasonable” if there’s a $48 entrée sitting next to it on the menu.
You’ve seen this with subscription tiers:
Ultra makes Pro feel like you’re neither cheap nor insane. Contrast made Basic seem like a moral failure and Ultra seem like a personality disorder.
All communication frames. You cannot speak without selecting emphasis. The ethical question is whether you frame to clarify or to distort. Good framing helps someone understand benefits and tradeoffs.
(To learn the persuasion secrets of NYPD hostage negotiators, click here.)
Okay, we’ve covered a lot. Let’s round everything up and we’ll also cover the thing most persuasion discussions avoid…
Here’s how to be more persuasive…
Now before you waddle off into the world, drunk on the power to make people say “yes” to things they didn’t know they wanted, we need to address the part everyone loves to treat like the salad at a steakhouse: ethics.
(You thought you could just come here and learn mind control techniques and not examine your soul? Cute.)
No need for a full philosophical seminar; we’ll keep it simple: manipulation prioritizes the outcome you want over the person you’re speaking to. It treats their autonomy like an obstacle you’re trying to sand down. Being ethical doesn’t mean you never try to change anyone’s mind. It means you respect that they have one.
Unethical persuasion spends future credibility to buy a present result. You can do that once or twice. Then you’re the person whose calls go to voicemail. Not because people are busy, but because they’d rather eat a thumbtack than re-enter your ecosystem.
Persuasion is not inherently manipulative. Persuasion is how you convince your friend to exercise. Persuasion is how you talk a child out of eating pennies. Persuasion can be leadership, friendship, parenting, teaching… basically every prosocial act we depend on.
So go be persuasive. But do it ethically.
Of course, you’re free to say no.