sophisticated kind with the words on the bottom of the screen. How
about you? Do you like to see films?
SYW: Uh...yes, I do. But let’s get back to the interview. Do you go to
many concerts?
C: Definitely. The symphonic stuff mostly, of course; but I do enjoy a
quality pop group as well.
SYW (writing rapidly): Great! Just one more question. What about touring
performances by theatrical or ballet companies? Do you see them when
they’re in town?
C: Ah, the ballet—the movement, the grace, the form—I love it. Mark
me down as loving the ballet. See it every chance I get.
SYW: Fine. Just let me recheck my figures here for a moment, Mr.
Cialdini.
C: Actually, it’s Dr. Cialdini. But that sounds so formal; why don’t you
call me Bob?
SYW: All right, Bob. From the information you’ve already given me, I’m
pleased to say that you could save up to twelve hundred dollars a year
by joining Clubamerica! A small membership fee entitles you to dis-
counts on most of the activities you’ve mentioned. Surely someone as
socially vigorous as yourself would want to take advantage of the tre-
mendous savings our company can offer on all the things you’ve already
told me you do.
C (trapped like a rat): Well...uh...I...uh...I guess so.
I remember quite well feeling my stomach tighten as I stammered
my agreement. It was a clear call to my brain, “Hey, you’re being taken
here!” But I couldn’t see a way out. I had been cornered by my own
words. To decline her offer at that point would have meant facing a
pair of distasteful alternatives: If I tried to back out by protesting that
I was not actually the man-about-town I had claimed to be during the
interview, I would come off a liar; but trying to refuse without that
protest would make me come off a fool for not wanting to save twelve
hundred dollars. So I bought the entertainment package, even though
Robert B. Cialdini Ph.D / 81