Government and public
health organizations have been tasked with the challenge of changing
behavior — getting people to not only practice social distancing and
shelter in place but also do it for weeks and potentially months. Not
surprisingly, almost everyone is relying on the standard approach to drive
change: Tell people what to do. Issue demands like: “Don’t go out,”
“Stay six feet apart,” Wash your hands,” and “Wear face masks.”
While a lot of us are
following recommendations so far, making sure everyone sticks with them for the
long haul is a tougher ask. Some people are still or have resumed congregating
in groups. Some churches, with support from their local leaders, are flouting
stay-at-home orders. And protesters have begun to demand that businesses reopen
sooner than experts suggest.
Directives aren’t
particularly effective in driving sustained behavior change because we all like
to feel as if we are in control of our choices. Why did I buy that product, use
that service, or take that action? Because I wanted to. So when others
try to influence our decisions, we don’t just go along, we push back against
the persuasive attempt. We get together with a friend, shop more than once a
week, and don’t wear a mask. We avoid doing what they suggested because we
don’t want to feel like someone else is controlling us.
Our innate anti-persuasion
radar raises our defenses, so we avoid or ignore the message or, even worse,
counter-argue, conjuring up all the reasons why what someone else suggested is
a bad idea. Sure, the governor said to stay home but they’re
overreacting.
Maybe the virus is bad in
some part of the country, but I don’t know a single person who’s gotten
it. And besides, many people who get it are fine anyway, so what’s the
big deal? Like an overzealous high school debater, they poke and
prod and raise objections until the persuasive power of the message crumbles.
So if telling people to do
doesn’t work, what does? Rather than trying to persuade people, getting them to
persuade themselves is often more effective. Here are three ways to do
that.
1. Highlight a gap
You can increase people’s
sense of freedom and control by pointing out a disconnect between their
thoughts and actions, or between what they might recommend for others versus do
themselves.
Take staying at home. For
young people who might resist, ask what they would suggest an elderly
grandparent or a younger brother or sister do. Would they want them out,
interacting with possibly infected people? If not, why do they think it’s
safe for them to do so?
People strive for internal
consistency. They want their attitudes and actions to line up.
Highlighting misalignment encourages them to resolve the disconnect.
Health officials in
Thailand used this approach in anti-smoking campaign. Rather than telling
smokers their habit was bad, they had little kids come up to smokers on the
street and ask them for a light. Not surprisingly, the smokers told the
kids no. Many even lectured the little boys and girls about the dangers of
smoking. But before turning to walk away, the kids handed the smokers a note
that said, “You worry about me … but why not about yourself?” At the bottom was
a toll-free number smokers could call to get help. Calls to that line
jumped more than 60% during the campaign.
2. Pose questions
Another way to allow for
agency is to ask questions rather than make statements. Public health
messaging tries to be direct: “Junk food makes you fat.” “Drunk driving is
murder.” “Keep sheltering in place.” But being so forceful can make people feel
threatened. The same content can be phrased in terms of a question: “Do you
think junk food is good for you?” If someone’s answer is no, they’re now in a
tough spot. By encouraging them to articulate their opinion, they’ve had to put
a stake in the ground — to admit that those things aren’t good for them. And
once they’ve done that, it becomes harder to keep justify the bad behaviors.
Questions shift the
listener’s role. Rather than counter-arguing or thinking about all the reasons
they disagree, they’re sorting through their answer to your query and their
feelings or opinions on the matter. And this shift increases buy-in. It
encourages people to commit to the conclusion, because while people might not
want to follow someone else’s lead, they’re more than happy to follow their
own. The answer to the question isn’t just any answer; it’s their answer,
reflecting their own personal thoughts, beliefs, and preferences. That makes it
more likely to drive action.
In the case of this
crisis, questions like “How bad would it be if your loved ones got sick?” could
prove more effective than directives in driving commitment to long-term or
intermittent social distancing and vigilant hygiene practices.
3. Ask for less
The third approach is to
reduce the size of the ask.
As an example, a doctor
was dealing with an obese trucker who was drinking three liters of Mountain Dew
a day. She wanted to ask him to quit cold turkey, but knew that would probably
fail, so she tried something else. She asked him to go from three liters a day
to two. He grumbled, but after a few weeks, was able to make the
switch. Then, on the next visit, she asked him to cut down to one liter a
day. Finally, after he was able to do that, only then did she suggest cutting
the soda out entirely. The trucker still drinks a can of Mountain Dew once in a
while, but he’s lost more than 25 pounds.
Especially in times of
crisis, health organizations want big change right away. Everyone should
continue to stay at home, by themselves, for two more months. But asks
this big often get rejected. They’re so different from what people are
doing currently that they fall into what scientists call “the region of
rejection” and get ignored.
A better approach is to
dial down the initial request. Ask for less initially, and then ask for more.
Take a big ask and break it down into smaller, more manageable chunks.
Government officials responding to the pandemic are already doing this to some
extent by setting initial end dates for social distancing measures, then
extending them. But there might be more opportunities, for example when experts
allow for some restrictions to be lifted — say, on small gatherings — but
insist that others, such as concerts or sporting events, continue to be banned.
Whether we’re encouraging
people to socially distance, shop only once a week, thoroughly wash hands and
wear face masks, or change behavior more broadly, too often we default to a
particular approach: Pushing. We assume that if we just remind people
again or give them more facts, figures, or reasons, they’ll come around.
But, as recent backlash against the Covid-19 -related restrictions
suggests, this doesn’t always work over the long term, especially when your
demands have no fixed end date.
If we instead understand
the key barriers preventing change, such as reactance, and employ tactics
designed to overcome them, we can change anything.
