Believe it. Feel it. (3.1.11)

                Heath and Heath spend two chapters investigating how credibility and appeals to emotion can, to use their terminology, make stuff “stick.” I enjoyed this read quite a bit, and I think it has more than a little to do with our authors’ tendency to tell stories which reveal principles rather than explain principles and offer examples. As I was reading I realized that I felt really engaged by their story-telling and was, as a result, more convinced by their arguments. In a way, my realization relates to the main idea of the week’s reading. That is, my experience with Made to Stick can be explained to some extent by what the book intends to illustrate. There is a real, identifiable logic to the things that Heath and Heath assert, and the best part is I identify the logic in the examples myself. If anything can make an idea “stick,” it’s making that idea come from me, not imposing that idea on me (no matter how valid that idea / your evidence might be). In this week’s reading, the Heath brother’s focus on relating an idea to people – or, more specifically, connecting people with an idea – such that believing / buying into / behaving in response to / accepting that idea is intuitive. This is precisely what I noticed their book achieving with myself, and this is what they discuss in terms of two basic but important “stickiness” concepts:  credibility and emotion.

                If we get to the core of the question Heath and Heath are asking (Why do some ideas “stick” and how can I make it happen again?), we are inevitably going to run into questions of credibility. Making an idea credible is an extremely powerful and effective way of also making that idea intuitive to a person (or, to use a different vocabulary, to make that idea marketable). Traditional sources of credibility, which is not to say out –of-date sources of credibility, include statistics and spokespersons (what our authors call “external validation”). These are, if you will, the oldest tricks in the book, but they appeal to people because they are concrete and because they create and/or validate a person’s given set of expectations. Essentially, statistics and spokespersons paint a particular picture of the world – one made to look very real – and offer specific perspectives. However, the authors note that the more detailed you make that painting, the easier it is for people to see. Though they don’t say this explicitly, Heath and Heath seem to be strongly suggesting that personal experience and personal engagement – audience participation if you will – are necessary for the spread of ideas. What they discover is that when people see, they also internalize; when people internalize, they arrive at an idea and believe it. The same is true for their other credibility tactics, including the antiauthority and the Sinatra Test.

                Heath and Heath immediately follow their discussion about credibility with a chapter about emotion. This makes sense. Credibility is related, to some extent anyway, to emotions (i.e. trust, conviction, hope, etc.), so there is decent logic in the order of their chapters already. However, credibility also relies on logic. What our authors know, I’m sure, is that not everyone is logical. What they (and you) can count on is that everyone has emotions (and that those emotions can be exploited!). What Heath and Heath lay out, though, proves much more complex than basic appeals to personal happiness. Self-interest, as their many examples illustrate, is a powerful tool. Nonetheless, people also respond to things which acknowledge their unique identities and their unique goals. Floyd Lee, for example, does his job well not because he will get a raise but rather because he sees his occupation as important, as something which transcends the confines of its basic operations (in his case, the mess hall). Most importantly, ironically enough, is not appealing to any particular emotion but helping people simply be emotional. Most people will empathize if given the right opportunity. What Heath and Heath suggest is that making people think analytically – such as presenting them with the number of people starving in a given region in Africa – will make them forget to become emotional about information. If data is presented in a way that makes people identify with it and see it as more than data, then chances are they will have some kind of emotional response. Once again, when people can internalize an idea – when they can understand it personally or compare it to first-hand experience – it suddenly becomes much more potent.

                I’ll offer a brief example that affirms what Heath and Heath seem to be getting at. I’ll point out immediately that my example is imperfect – it does not relate specifically to online communities, nor is it a direct application of the Sinatra Test. But it’s close enough...

                I shop for deals on hiking and other outdoor gear frequently. Shopping for deals, of course, means also shopping for the best value. The market for this type of merchandise is massive and, as a result, I find myself reading reviews of products, exploring backpacking blogs, and researching new innovations in equipment all of the time, attempting to be as scrutinizing and thrifty as possible (this type of merchandise is also, as it turns out, ridiculously expensive). In my reading I came across Patagonia’s Field Reports. Patagonia is already renowned for its eco-friendly, socially responsible manufacturing processes as well as for its extremely high quality products. With all of these wonderful things, however, comes a higher price tag. This is what made its Field Reports so smart. Patagonia sends out writers and general adventure-seekers on long exotic trips with its products. These reporters write about their experiences and include surprisingly little about the Patagonia stuff they used. The point is this:  Patagonia is making itself appear credible (essentially practicing what it preaches, or more accurately, relying on what it sells) by illustrating proving to what extremes its products can be taken. It is, in a way, a self-imposed Sinatra Test. If people interested in Patagonia products are curious as to whether or not its gear will hold up in this or that condition, climate, etc, then Patagonia is willing to find out. At the same time Patagonia is also appealing to people’s sense of identity, employing reporters who can write entertaining, exhilarating stories (which, by the by, are another “sticky” tactic) and who are also really cool people. It might sound trite, but individuals who consider themselves “fairly outdoorsy” have a lot of respect for people who are clearly “ridiculously outdoorsy.” These aren’t customers on Amazon that are taking their kids and/or dog on a two hour hike. These are adventure professionals. Plus, Patagonia avoids barraging its customers with numbers and facts and company policies. It lets the products do all of the talking. That’s really the bottom line:  when someone thinks about buying a Patagonia jacket or backpack but aren’t sure they are willing to spend the extra cash which ensures that the quality will be high and that good labor conditions are met in a Chinese factory, maybe they will be willing to pay to be the type of person that uses those products. Of course, other brands do this, but that is well beyond the point. Patagonia, or whatever other company you like, does it to appear credible and to appeal to the emotional predispositions of its customers. And seeing as I still can’t afford Patagonia’s many wonderful products, it seems to be working.