How to Win Friends and Influence People (20 page)

PRINCIPLE 7

Let the other person feel that the idea is his or

hers.

A FORMULA THAT WILL WORK

WONDERS FOR YOU

Remember that other people may be totally wrong. But

they don’t think so. Don’t condemn them. Any fool can

do that. Try to understand them. Only wise, tolerant,

exceptional people even try to do that.

There is a reason why the other man thinks and acts

as he does. Ferret out that reason - and you have the key

to his actions, perhaps to his personality

.

Try honestly to put yourself in his place.

If you say to yourself, “How would I feel, how would

I react if I were in his shoes?” you will save yourself

time and irritation, for “by becoming interested in the

cause, we are less likely to dislike the effect.” And, in

addition, you will sharply increase your skill in human

relationships.

“Stop a minute,” says Kenneth M. Goode in his book

How to Turn People Into Gold,
“stop a minute to contrast

your keen interest in your own affairs with your

mild concern about anything else. Realize then, that

everybody else in the world feels exactly the same way!

Then, along with Lincoln and Roosevelt, you will have

grasped the only solid foundation for interpersonal relationships;

namely, that success in dealing with people

depends on a sympathetic grasp of the other persons’

viewpoint.”

Sam Douglas of Hempstead, New York, used to tell

his wife that she spent too much time working on their

lawn, pulling weeds, fertilizing, cutting the grass twice

a week when the lawn didn’t look any better than it had

when they moved into their home four years earlier. Naturally,

she was distressed by his remarks, and each time

he made such remarks the balance of the evening was

ruined.

After taking our course, Mr. Douglas realized how

foolish he had been all those years. It never occurred to

him that she enjoyed doing that work and she might

really appreciate a compliment on her diligence.

One evening after dinner, his wife said she wanted to

pull some weeds and invited him to keep her company.

He first declined, but then thought better of it and went

out after her and began to help her pull weeds. She was

visibly pleased, and together they spent an hour in hard

work and pleasant conversation.

After that he often helped her with the gardening and

complimented her on how fine the lawn looked, what a

fantastic job she was doing with a yard where the soil

was like concrete. Result: a happier life for both because

he had learned to look at things from her point of view

- even if the subject was only weeds.

In his book
Getting Through to People,
Dr. Gerald S.

Nirenberg commented: "Cooperativeeness in conversation

is achieved when you show that you consider the

other person’s ideas and feelings as important as your

own. Starting your conversation by giving the other person

the purpose or direction of your conversation, governing

what you say by what you would want to hear if

you were the listener, and accepting his or her viewpoint

will encourage the listener to have an open mind

to your ideas.” *

* Dr Gerald S. Nirenberg,
Getting Through to People
(Englewood Cliffs,

N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1963), p. 31.

I have always enjoyed walking and riding in a park

near my home. Like the Druids of ancient Gaul, I all but

worship an oak tree, so I was distressed season after

season to see the young trees and shrubs killed off by

needless fires. These fires weren’t caused by careless

smokers. They were almost all caused by youngsters

who went out to the park to go native and cook a frankfurter

or an egg under the trees. Sometimes, these fires

raged so fiercely that the fire department had to be called

out to fight the conflagration.

There was a sign on the edge of the park saying that

anyone who started a fire was liable to fine and imprisonment,

but the sign stood in an unfrequented part of the

park, and few of the culprits ever saw it. A mounted

policeman was supposed to look after the park; but he

didn’t take his duties too seriously, and the fires continued

to spread season after season. On one occasion, I

rushed up to a policeman and told him about a fire

spreading rapidly through the park and wanted him to

notify the fire department, and he nonchalantly replied

that it was none of his business because it wasn’t in his

precinct! I was desperate, so after that when I went riding,

I acted as a self-appointed committee of one to protect

the public domain. In the beginning, I am afraid I

didn’t even attempt to see the other people’s point of

view. When I saw a fire blazing under the trees, I was so

unhappy about it, so eager to do the right thing, that I

did the wrong thing. I would ride up to the boys, warn

them that they could be jailed for starting a fire, order

with a tone of authority that it be put out; and, if they

refused, I would threaten to have them arrested. I was

merely unloading my feelings without thinking of their

point of view.

The result? They obeyed - obeyed sullenly and with

resentment. After I rode on over the hill, they probably

rebuilt the fire and longed to burn up the whole park.

With the passing of the years, I acquired a trifle more

knowledge of human relations, a little more tact, a somewhat

greater tendency to see things from the other person’s

standpoint. Then, instead of giving orders, I would

ride up to a blazing fire and begin something like this:

“Having a good time, boys? What are you going to

cook for supper? . . . I loved to build fires myself when I

was a boy - and I still love to. But you know they are

very dangerous here in the park. I know you boys don’t

mean to do any harm, but other boys aren’t so careful.

They come along and see that you have built a fire; so

they build one and don’t put it out when they go home

and it spreads among the dry leaves and kills the trees.

We won’t have any trees here at all if we aren’t more

careful, You could be put in jail for building this fire. But

I don’t want to be bossy and interfere with your pleasure.

I like to see you enjoy yourselves; but won’t you

please rake all the leaves away from the fire right now

- and you’ll be careful to cover it with dirt, a lot of dirt,

before you leave, won’t you? And the next time you want

to have some fun, won’t you please build your fire over

the hill there in the sandpit? It can’t do any harm there.

. . . Thanks so much, boys. Have a good time.”

What a difference that kind of talk made! It made the

boys want to cooperate. No sullenness, no resentment.

They hadn’t been forced to obey orders. They had saved

their faces. They felt better and I felt better because I

had handled the situation with consideration for their

point of view.

Seeing things through another person’s eyes may ease

tensions when personal problems become overwhelming.

Elizabeth Novak of New South Wales, Australia,

was six weeks late with her car payment. “On a Friday,”

she reported, "I received a nasty phone call from the

man who was handling my account informing me if I did

not come up with $122 by Monday morning I could anticipate

further action from the company. I had no way

of raising the money over the weekend, so when I received

his phone call first thing on Monday morning I

expected the worst. Instead of becoming upset I looked

at the situation from his point of view. I apologized most

sincerely for causing him so much inconvenience and

remarked that I must be his most troublesome customer

as this was not the first time I was behind in my payments.

His tone of voice changed immediately, and he

reassured me that I was far from being one of his really

troublesome customers. He went on to tell me several

examples of how rude his customers sometimes were,

how they lied to him and often tried to avoid talking to

him at all. I said nothing. I listened and let him pour out

his troubles to me. Then, without any suggestion from

me, he said it did not matter if I couldn’t pay all the

money immediately. It would be all right if I paid him

$20 by the end of the month and made up the balance

whenever it was convenient for me to do so.”

Tomorrow, before asking anyone to put out a fire or

buy your product or contribute to your favorite charity,

why not pause and close your eyes and try to think the

whole thing through from another person’s point of

view? Ask yourself: “Why should he or she want to do

it?” True, this will take time, but it will avoid making

enemies and will get better results - and with less friction

and less shoe leather.

"I would rather walk the sidewalk in front of a person’s

office for two hours before an interview,” said

Dean Donham of the Harvard business school, “than

step into that office without a perfectly clear idea of what

I was going to say and what that person - from my

knowledge of his or her interests and motives - was

likely to answer.”

That is so important that I am going to repeat it in

italics for the sake of emphasis.

I would rather walk the sidewalk in front of a per
son’s

office for
two hours before an interview than step

into that office without a perfectly clear idea
of
what I

was going to say and what that persob - from my

knowledge of his or her interests and motives - was

likely to answer.

If, as a result of reading this book, you get only one

thing - an increased tendency to think always in terms

of the other person’s point of view, and see things from

that person’s angle as well as your own - if you get only

that one thing from this book, it may easily prove to be

one of the stepping - stones of your career.

PRINCIPLE 8

Try honestly to see things from the other

person’s point of view.

WHAT EVERYBODY WANTS

Wouldn't you like to have a magic phrase that would

stop arguments, eliminate ill feeling, create good will,

and make the other person listen attentively?

Yes? All right. Here it is: "I don’t blame you one iota

for feeling as you do. If I were you I would undoubtedly

feel just as you do.”

An answer like that will soften the most cantankerous

old cuss alive. And you can say that and be 100 percent

sincere, because if you were the other person you, of

course, would feel just as he does. Take Al Capone, for

example. Suppose you had inherited the same body and

temperament and mind that Al Capone had. Suppose

you had had his environment and experiences. You

would then be precisely what he was - and where he

was. For it is those things - and only those things - that

made him what he was. The only reason, for example,

that you are not a rattlesnake is that your mother and

father weren’t rattlesnakes.

You
deserve very little credit for being what you are

- and remember, the people who come to you irritated,

bigoted, unreasoning, deserve very little discredit for

being what they are. Feel sorry for the poor devils. Pity

them. Sympathize with them. Say to yourself: “There,

but for the grace of God, go I.”

Three-fourths of the people you will ever meet are

hungering and thirsting for sympathy. Give it to them,

and they will love you.

I once gave a broadcast about the author of
Little

Women,
Louisa May Alcott. Naturally, I knew she had

lived and written her immortal books in Concord, Massachusetts.

But, without thinking what I was saying, I

spoke of visiting her old home in Concord. New Hampshire.

If I had said New Hampshire only once, it might

have been forgiven. But, alas and alack! I said it twice, I

was deluged with letters and telegrams, stinging messages

that swirled around my defenseless head like a

swarm of hornets. Many were indignant. A few insulting.

One Colonial Dame, who had been reared in Concord,

Massachusetts, and who was then living in Philadelphia,

vented her scorching wrath upon me. She couldn’t have

been much more bitter if I had accused Miss Alcott of

being a cannibal from New Guinea. As I read the letter,

I said to myself, “Thank God, I am not married to that

woman.” I felt like writing and telling her that although

I had made a mistake in geography, she had made a far

greater mistake in common courtesy. That was to be just

my opening sentence. Then I was going to roll up my

sleeves and tell her what I really thought. But I didn’t.

I controlled myself. I realized that any hotheaded

fool could do that - and that most fools would do just

that.

I wanted to be above fools. So I resolved to try to turn

her hostility into friendliness. It would be a challenge, a

sort of game I could play. I said to myself, "After all, if

I were she, I would probably feel just as she does.”

So, I determined to sympathize with her viewpoint.

The next time I was in Philadelphia, I called her on the

telephone. The conversation went something like

this:

ME:      Mrs. So-and-So, you wrote me a letter a few weeks

            ago, and I want to thank you for it.

SHE:    (in incisive, cultured, well-bred tones): To whom

            have I the honor of speaking?

ME:      I am a stranger to you. My name is Dale Carnegie.

            You listened to a broadcast I gave about Louisa May

            Alcott a few Sundays ago, and I made the unforgivable

            blunder of saying that she had lived in Concord,

            New Hampshire. It was a stupid blunder, and

            I want to apologize for it. It was so nice of you to

            take the time to write me.

SHE :   I am sorry, Mr. Carnegie, that I wrote as I did. I lost

            my temper. I must apologize.

ME:      No! No! You are not the one to apologize; I am. Any

            school child would have known better than to have

            said what I said. I apologized over the air the following

            Sunday, and I want to apologize to you personally

            now.

SHE :   I was born in Concord, Massachusetts. My family

            has been prominent in Massachusetts affairs for two

            centuries, and I am very proud of my native state. I

            was really quite distressed to hear you say that Miss

            Alcott had lived in New Hampshire. But I am really

            ashamed of that letter.

ME:      I assure you that you were not one-tenth as distressed

            as I am. My error didn’t hurt Massachusetts,

            but it did hurt me. It is so seldom that people of

            your standing and culture take the time to write

            people who speak on the radio, and I do hope you

            will write me again if you detect an error in my

            talks.

SHE:    You know, I really like very much the way you have

            accepted my criticism. You must be a very nice person.

            I should like to know you better.

So, because I had apologized and sympathized with

her point of view, she began apologizing and sympathizing

with my point of view, I had the satisfaction of

controlling my temper, the satisfaction of returning

kindness for an insult. I got infinitely more real fun out

of making her like me than I could ever have gotten out

of telling her to go and take a jump in the Schuylkill

River,

Every man who occupies the White House is faced

almost daily with thorny problems in human relations.

President Taft was no exception, and he learned from

experience the enormous chemical value of sympathy in

neutralizing the acid of hard feelings. In his book
Ethics

in Service
, Taft gives rather an amusing illustration of

how he softened the ire of a disappointed and ambitious

mother.

“A lady in Washington,” wrote Taft, “whose husband

had some political influence, came and labored with me

for six weeks or more to appoint her son to a position.

She secured the aid of Senators and Congressmen in

formidable number and came with them to see that they

spoke with emphasis. The place was one requiring technical

qualification, and following the recommendation

of the head of the Bureau, I appointed somebody else. I

then received a letter from the mother, saying that I was

most ungrateful, since I declined to make her a happy

woman as I could have done by a turn of my hand. She

complained further that she had labored with her state

delegation and got all the votes for an administration bill

in which I was especially interested and this was the

way I had rewarded her.

“When you get a letter like that, the first thing you do

is to think how you can be severe with a person who has

committed an impropriety, or even been a little impertinent.

Then you may compose an answer. Then if you

are wise, you will put the letter in a drawer and lock the

drawer. Take it out in the course of two days - such communications

will always bear two days’ delay in answering

- and when you take it out after that interval, you

will not send it. That is just the course I took. After that,

I sat down and wrote her just as polite a letter as I could,

telling her I realized a mother’s disappointment under

such circumstances, but that really the appointment was

not left to my mere personal preference, that I had to

select a man with technical qualifications, and had,

therefore, to follow the recommendations of the head of

the Bureau. I expressed the hope that her son would go

on to accomplish what she had hoped for him in the

position which he then had. That mollified her and she

wrote me a note saying she was sorry she had written as

she had.

“But the appointment I sent in was not confirmed at

once, and after an interval I received a letter which purported

to come from her husband, though it was in the

the same handwriting as all the others. I was therein

advised that, due to the nervous prostration that had followed

her disappointment in this case, she had to take

to her bed and had developed a most serious case of

cancer of the stomach. Would I not restore her to health

by withdrawing the first name and replacing it by her

son’s? I had to write another letter, this one to the husband,

to say that I hoped the diagnosis would prove to

be inaccurate, that I sympathized with him in the sorrow

he must have in the serious illness of his wife, but that it

was impossible to withdraw the name sent in. The man

whom I appointed was confirmed, and within two days

after I received that letter, we gave a musicale at the

White House. The first two people to greet Mrs. Taft and

me were this husband and wife, though the wife had so

recently been in
articulo mortis."

Jay Mangum represented an elevator-escalator main-tenance

company in Tulsa, Oklahoma, which had the

maintenance contract for the escalators in one of Tulsa’s

leading hotels. The hotel manager did not want to shut

down the escalator for more than two hours at a time

because he did not want to inconvenience the hotel’s

guests. The repair that had to be made would take at

least eight hours, and his company did not always have

a specially qualified mechanic available at the convenience

of the hotel.

When Mr. Mangum was able to schedule a top-flight

mechanic for this job, he telephoned the hotel manager

and instead of arguing with him to give him the necessary

time, he said:

“Rick, I know your hotel is quite busy and you would

like to keep the escalator shutdown time to a minimum.

I understand your concern about this, and we want to do

everything possible to accommodate you. However, our

diagnosis of the situation shows that if we do not do a

complete job now, your escalator may suffer more serious

damage and that would cause a much longer shutdown.

I know you would not want to inconvenience

your guests for several days.”

The manager had to agree that an eight-hour shut

down was more desirable than several days'. By sympathizing

with the manager’s desire to keep his patrons

happy, Mr. Mangum was able to win the hotel manager

to his way of thinking easily and without rancor.

Joyce Norris, a piano teacher in St, Louis, Missouri,

told of how she had handled a problem piano teachers

often have with teenage girls. Babette had exceptionally

long fingernails. This is a serious handicap to anyone

who wants to develop proper piano-playing habits.

Mrs. Norris reported: “I knew her long fingernails

would be a barrier for her in her desire to play well.

During our discussions prior to her starting her lessons

with me, I did not mention anything to her about her

nails. I didn’t want to discourage her from taking lessons,

and I also knew she would not want to lose that

which she took so much pride in and such great care to

make attractive.

“After her first lesson, when I felt the time was right,

I said: ‘Babette, you have attractive hands and beautiful

fingernails. If you want to play the piano as well as you

are capable of and as well as you would like to, you

would be surprised how much quicker and easier it

would be for you, if you would trim your nails shorter.

Just think about it, Okay?’ She made a face which was

definitely negative. I also talked to her mother about this

situation, again mentioning how lovely her nails were.

Another negative reaction. It was obvious that Babette’s

beautifully manicured nails were important to her.

“The following week Babette returned for her second

lesson. Much to my surprise, the fingernails had been

trimmed. I complimented her and praised her for making

such a sacrifice. I also thanked her mother for influencing

Babette to cut her nails. Her reply was ‘Oh, I had

nothing to do with it. Babette decided to do it on her

own, and this is the first time she has ever trimmed her

nails for anyone.’ "

Did Mrs. Norris threaten Babette? Did she say she

would refuse to teach a student with long fingernails?

No, she did not. She let Babette know that her finger-

nails were a thing of beauty and it would be a sacrifice

to cut them. She implied, “I sympathize with you - I

know it won’t be easy, but it will pay off in your better

musical development.”

Sol Hurok was probably America’s number one impresario.

For almost half a century he handled artists - such

world-famous artists as Chaliapin, Isadora Duncan, and

Pavlova. Mr. Hurok told me that one of the first lessons

he had learned in dealing with his temperamental stars

was the’ necessity for sympathy, sympathy and more