How to Win Friends and Influence People (13 page)

PRINCIPLE 5

Talk in terms of the other person’s interests.

HOW TO MAKE PEOPLE LIKE YOU

INSTANTLY

I was waiting in line to register a letter in the post office

at Thirty-third Street and Eighth Avenue in New York. I

noticed that the clerk appeared to be bored with the job

-weighing envelopes, handing out stamps, making

change, issuing receipts - the same monotonous grind

year after year. So I said to myself: "I am going to try to

make that clerk like me. Obviously, to make him like

me, I must say something nice, not about myself, but

about him. So I asked myself, ‘What is there about him

that I can honestly admire?’ " That is sometimes a hard

question to answer, especially with strangers; but, in

this case, it happened to be easy. I instantly saw something

I admired no end.

So while he was weighing my envelope, I remarked

with enthusiasm: "I certainly wish I had your head of

hair.”

He looked up, half-startled, his face beaming with

smiles. "Well, it isn’t as good as it used to be,” he said

modestly. I assured him that although it might have lost

some of its pristine glory, nevertheless it was still magnificent.

He was immensely pleased. We carried on a

pleasant little conversation and the last thing he said to

me was: “Many people have admired my hair.”

I’ll bet that person went out to lunch that day walking

on air. I’ll bet he went home that night and told his wife

about it. I’ll bet he looked in the mirror and said: “It is a

beautiful head of hair.”

I told this story once in public and a man asked me

afterwards: “‘What did you want to get out of him?”

What was I trying to get out of him!!! What was I trying

to get out of him!!!

If we are so contemptibly selfish that we can’t radiate

a little happiness and pass on a bit of honest appreciation

without trying to get something out of the other person

in return - if our souls are no bigger than sour crab apples,

we shall meet with the failure we so richly deserve.

Oh yes, I did want something out of that chap. I

wanted something priceless. And I got it. I got the feeling

that I had done something for him without his being

able to do anything whatever in return for me. That is a

feeling that flows and sings in your memory lung after

the incident is past.

There is one all-important law of human conduct. If

we obey that law, we shall almost never get into trouble.

In fact, that law, if obeyed, will bring us countless

friends and constant happiness. But the very instant we

break the law, we shall get into endless trouble. The law

is this:
Always make the other person feel important.

John Dewey, as we have already noted, said that the

desire to be important is the deepest urge in human

nature; and William James said: “The deepest principle

in human nature is the craving to be appreciated.” As I

have already pointed out, it is this urge that differentiates

us from the animals. It is this urge that has been

responsible for civilization itself.

Philosophers have been speculating on the rules of

human relationships for thousands of years, and out of

all that speculation, there has evolved only one important

precept. It is not new. It is as old as history. Zoroaster

taught it to his followers in Persia twenty-five

hundred years ago. Confucius preached it in China

twenty-four centuries ago. Lao-tse, the founder of

Taoism, taught it to his disciples in the Valley of the

Han. Buddha preached it on the bank of the Holy

Ganges five hundred years before Christ. The sacred

books of Hinduism taught it a thousand years before

that. Jesus taught it among the stony hills of Judea nineteen

centuries ago. Jesus summed it up in one thought

-probably the most important rule in the world: “Do

unto others as you would have others do unto you.”

You want the approval of those with whom you come

in contact. You want recognition of your true worth. You

want a feeling that you are important in your little world.

You don’t want to listen to cheap, insincere flattery, but

you do crave sincere appreciation. You want your friends

and associates to be, as Charles Schwab put it, “hearty

in their approbation and lavish in their praise.” All of us

want that.

So let’s obey the Golden Rule, and give unto others

what we would have others give unto us,

How? When? Where? The answer is: All the time,

everywhere.

David G. Smith of Eau Claire, Wisconsin, told one of

our classes how he handled a delicate situation when he

was asked to take charge of the refreshment booth at a

charity concert,

“The night of the concert I arrived at the park and

found two elderly ladies in a very bad humor standing

next to the refreshment stand. Apparently each thought

that she was in charge of this project. As I stood there

pondering what to do, me of the members of the sponsoring

committee appeared and handed me a cash

box and thanked me for taking over the project. She

introduced Rose and Jane as my helpers and then ran

off.

"A great silence ensued. Realizing that the cash box

was a symbol of authority (of sorts), I gave the box to

Rose and explained that I might not be able to keep the

money straight and that if she took care of it I would feel

better. I then suggested to Jane that she show two teenagers

who had been assigned to refreshments how to

operate the soda machine, and I asked her to be responsible

for that part of the project.

“The evening was very enjoyable with Rose happily

counting the money, Jane supervising the teenagers, and

me enjoying the concert.”

You don’t have to wait until you are ambassador to

France or chairman of the Clambake Committee of your

lodge before you use this philosophy of appreciation.

You can work magic with it almost every day.

If, for example, the waitress brings us mashed potatoes

when we have ordered French fried, let’s say: “I’m sorry

to trouble you, but I prefer French fried.” She’ll probably

reply, “No trouble at all” and will be glad to change

the potatoes, because we have shown respect for her.

Little phrases such as “I’m sorry to trouble you,”

“Would you be so kind as to ----? " "Won't you

please?” " Would you mind?” “Thank you” - little courtesies

like these oil the cogs of the monotonous grind of

everyday life- and, incidentally, they are the hallmark

of good breeding.

Let’s take another illustration. Hall Caine’s novels
-The

Christian, The Deemster, The Manxman,
among

them - were all best-sellers in the early part of this century.

Millions of people read his novels, countless millions.

He was the son of a blacksmith. He never had

more than eight years’ schooling in his life; yet when he

died he was the richest literary man of his time.

The story goes like this: Hall Caine loved sonnets and

ballads; so he devoured all of Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s

poetry. He even wrote a lecture chanting the praises of

Rossetti’s artistic achievement-and sent a copy to Rossetti

himself. Rossetti was delighted. “Any young man

who has such an exalted opinion of my ability,” Rossetti

probably said to himself, “must be brilliant,” So Rossetti

invited this blacksmith’s son to come to London and act

as his secretary. That was the turning point in Hall

Caine’s life; for, in his new position, he met the literary

artists of the day. Profiting by their advice and inspired

by their encouragement, he launched upon a career that

emblazoned his name across the sky.

His home, Greeba Castle, on the Isle of Man, became

a Mecca for tourists from the far corners of the world,

and he left a multimillion dollar estate. Yet - who knows

- he might have died poor and unknown had he not

written an essay expressing his admiration for a famous

man.

Such is the power, the stupendous power, of sincere,

heartfelt appreciation.

Rossetti considered himself important. That is not

strange, Almost everyone considers himself important,

very important.

The life of many a person could probably be changed

if only someone would make him feel important. Ronald

J. Rowland, who is one of the instructors of our course

in California, is also a teacher of arts and crafts. He wrote

to us about a student named Chris in his beginning

crafts class:

Chris was a very quiet, shy boy lacking in self-confidence,

the kind of student that often does not receive the

attention he deserves. I also teach an advanced class that

had grown to be somewhat of a status symbol and a privilege

for a student to have earned the right to be in it.

On Wednesday, Chris was diligently working at his desk.

I really felt there was a hidden fire deep inside him. I asked

Chris if he would like to be in the advanced class. How I

wish I could express the look in Chris’s face, the emotions

in that shy fourteen-year-old boy, trying to hold back his

tears.

“Who me, Mr. Rowland? Am I good enough?”

“Yes, Chris, you are good enough.”

I had to leave at that point because tears were coming to

my eyes. As Chris walked out of class that day, seemingly

two inches taller, he looked at me with bright blue eyes and

said in a positive voice, “Thank you, Mr. Rowland.”

Chris taught me a lesson I will never forget-our deep

desire to feel important. To help me never forget this rule,

I made a sign which reads “YOU ARE IMPORTANT." This

sign hangs in the front of the classroom for all to see and to

remind me that each student I face is equally important.

The unvarnished truth is that almost all the people

you meet feel themselves superior to you in some way,

and a sure way to their hearts is to let them realize in

some subtle way that you recognize their importance,

and recognize it sincerely.

Remember what Emerson said: “Every man I meet is

my superior in some way. In that, I learn of him.”

And the pathetic part of it is that frequently those who

have the least justification for a feeling of achievement

bolster up their egos by a show of tumult and conceit

which is truly nauseating. As Shakespeare put it: ". . .

man, proud man,/Drest in a little brief authority,/ . . .

Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven/As make

the angels weep.”

I am going to tell you how business people in my own

courses have applied these principles with remarkable

results. Let’s take the case of a Connecticut attorney (because

of his relatives he prefers not to have his name

mentioned).

Shortly after joining the course, Mr. R----- drove to

Long Island with his wife to visit some of her relatives.

She left him to chat with an old aunt of hers and ther

rushed off by herself to visit some of the younger relatives.

Since he soon had to give a speech professionally

on how he applied the principles of appreciation, he

thought he would gain some worthwhile experience

talking with the-elderly lady. So he looked around the

house to see what he could honestly admire.

“This house was built about 1890, wasn’t it?” he inquired.

“Yes,” she replied, “that is precisely the year it was

built.”

“It reminds me of the house I was born in,” he said.

“It’s beautiful. Well built. Roomy. You know, they don’t

build houses like this anymore.”

“You’re right,” the old lady agreed. “The young folks

nowadays don’t care for beautiful homes. All they want

is a small apartment, and then they go off gadding about

in their automobiles.

“This is a dream house,” she said in a voice vibrating

with tender memories. “This house was built with love.

My husband and I dreamed about it for years before we

built it. We didn’t have an architect. We planned it all

ourselves."

She showed Mr. R----- about the house, and he expressed

his hearty admiration for the beautiful treasures

she had picked up in her travels and cherished over a

lifetime - paisley shawls, an old English tea set, Wedgwood

china, French beds and chairs, Italian paintings,

and silk draperies that had once hung in a French chateau.

After showing Mr. R----- through the house, she took

him out to the garage. There, jacked up on blocks, was a

Packard car - in mint condition.

"My husband bought that car for me shortly before he

passed on,” she said softly. “I have never ridden in it

since his death. . . . You appreciate nice things, and I’m

going to give this car to you.”

“Why, aunty,” he said, “you overwhelm me. I appreciate

your generosity, of course; but I couldn’t possibly

accept it. I’m not even a relative of yours. I have a new

car, and you have many relatives that would like to have

that Packard.”

“Relatives!” she exclaimed. “Yes, I have relatives who

are just waiting till I die so they can get that car. But