Mediation advocacy is derived from negotiation theory, and negotiation theory teaches us an art of persuasion fundamentally different from that practiced in litigation. Unlike litigation’s rational, impassioned, and direct argument style of persuasion, persuasion in negotiation and mediation is more likely achieved through gentle, indirect, skillful questioning grounded in psychology and other social sciences. This difference is illustrated by Aesop’s Fable of the Sun and the Wind.
In this fable, the God of the Wind and the God of the Sun are arguing about which of them is the more powerful. To resolve their dispute, they enter into a competition to see who can make the earthly mortal remove his cloak. The Wind goes first. He blows and blows with all of his considerable power. Yet, the harder the Wind blows, the tighter the man clutches his cloak. Despite hurricane-force winds, the Wind cannot blow the cloak out of the man’s ever-tightening grasp. Next, it is the God of the Sun’s turn. The Sun gently shines down upon the man. The day grows beautiful, sunny… and warm. As the sun shines, the man decides, seemingly all on his own, to remove his cloak, and the Sun wins the bet. In this story, the more strategic and indirect triumphs over the direct and more logical exercise of power and perfectly illustrates my theory of the difference between effective persuasion in litigation and persuasion in negotiation and, by extension, mediation.[[1]]
The terminology used in mediation training to describe this phenomenon is woefully inadequate. Often, trainers talk about facilitative as opposed to evaluative styles of mediation. The evaluative style is sometimes oversimplified and referred to as directive. The directive mediator generally will candidly share their own objective assessment of a case with parties and lawyers. This is an efficient process, similar to early neutral evaluation. An example of a directive mediator would be the way the mediator discusses the liability risk with a party in an automobile accident lawsuit. The directive mediator seeks to impress upon the plaintiff that, on the issue of whether the light was red or green, he may lose the credibility battle to the disinterested bystander, notwithstanding the plaintiff’s unshakeable belief that his light was green. The directive mediator might say: “The defense’s witness wasn’t in the accident and was in a much better position to see the light. And the bystander isn’t a party. He will be much more believable. You are the plaintiff seeking money here. The jury will never buy your story.” This is direct and, although possibly factual, may not persuade the party as intended. Confirmation bias causes us to believe those things that are consistent with what we already believe and to reject those that conflict with what we believe.[[2]] Therefore, instead of accepting what the mediator is telling him, which goes against what he knows he saw, the plaintiff may find the mediator is not neutral, not listening to him, and is instead siding with the other side. The plaintiff may also become defensive and counter the mediator with his own argument as to why he will, in fact, be credible.
An indirect approach might be to ask, “Are there any risks from the fact that the defendant’s witness is a disinterested bystander?” First, neither of these examples is facilitative. Both are evaluative in that it is clear that the mediator has a very specific point to make. –which is that regardless of whether the light was red or green, a jury may find a disinterested bystander more credible than you- a party to the dispute- and this poses a serious litigation risk and a reason to explore settlement. However, in the indirect and more powerful approach, the party is less likely to respond defensively and more likely to appreciate the risks posed by the perceived neutrality of the bystander.
This example illustrates the challenge and the power of being the sun rather than the wind in mediation. It is so natural for lawyers to be the “wind.” One possible explanation for this is that our training and professional experience have trained us this way. Throughout law school, lawyers are taught to construct logical arguments, marshal facts, and advocate forcefully. Success in litigation depends on your ability to present a rational argument with a confident belief in that argument. We are rewarded for this by clients who appreciate when their lawyers fight forcefully on their behalf. Judges and other neutral adjudicators rely on our arguments and are, in fact, persuaded by our meticulously and logically constructed reasoning, especially when presented with passion and confidence. When your audience is on the other side, however, your passion may be met with equal and opposite passion, and your carefully constructed arguments may be met by counterarguments, not acceptance and capitulation. This is why litigation advocacy—the wind—is best left in the courtroom.
As discussed above, cognitive biases shape the way you persuade in mediation. How often has your argument, however skillful, changed your adversary’s belief in their own case? How often has your adversary acknowledged your argument and embraced your theory of the case, completely abandoning their own? Instead, how often do you find yourself engaged in a circular argument in which you just endlessly counter one another’s arguments? This is equivalent to causing your adversary to pull their cloak tighter and tighter. The more indirect approach—the sun is less obvious and more appropriate for mediation. It is much less natural, much more difficult, and much more powerful to cause your adversary to come to the conclusions you want them to come to on their own.
My theory of the wind and the sun helps to understand the ongoing challenge of opening statements in mediation. First, the purpose of an opening statement is to speak directly to the other side. You likely have already spoken to the mediator in a pre-mediation conversation and will continue to speak to the mediator privately throughout the mediation. Some mediation advocates view the opening as an opportunity to demonstrate to opposing counsel and party their own zealous advocacy and persuasive arguments. Ask any mediator who has to follow this type of opening in private caucus with the recipient of your arguments. Positions are often hardened, and emotions are intensified. This is true whether the more litigation-focused opening is directed toward the mediator or the other side.
While the explanations for why the joint session so often implodes are many, one reason is illustrated by the wind and the sun paradigm. The entirely rational presentation of facts and law—a litigation-style opening statement—is a direct assault on what the other side sincerely believes. This is the equivalent of a hard-core liberal having to listen to Sean Hannity or a hard-core conservative having to listen to Rachel Maddow. This is the cognitive bias referred to as confirmation bias and discussed above. An opening statement that takes direct aim at what one’s adversary sincerely believes—client and often lawyer—is incapable of persuading. Instead of changing minds, an adversarial opening will make the true audience, opposing counsel, and their party angry, distrustful, and defensive.
The more persuasive approach is the more challenging, more strategic, more nuanced indirect approach, including expressions of sincere empathy and validation of emotions while not validating legal arguments or factual predicates. The goal of this approach is not to persuade, but to build rapport and trust, and in the interest of furthering opportunities for collaboration. This approach is the best possible approach, but even this approach is fraught. Another powerful psychological principle is reactive devaluation: we have difficulty separating the message from the messenger. In a relationship devoid of trust, negotiating partners sitting on the other side of the table may not accept the sincerity of your message, regardless of how skillfully you deliver it.
Another cognitive bias that is powerful in negotiation is anchoring. Anchoring is the tendency for random facts or numbers to influence our thinking and our evaluation of options. Anchoring is a strong and pervasive cognitive bias. One experiment is to prime a set of subjects by asking them to think of the last four numbers of their telephone number. They are then asked a question to which they likely do not know the answer, such as how many countries are on the continent of Africa. Over and over, testers find that those with high telephone numbers, 9999 for example, guess a higher number of countries than do those whose telephone numbers are lower, 0001 for example. Real estate agents may argue that listing prices are irrelevant, but studies have found that listing prices do, in fact, influence selling prices.[[3]] Anchoring is the reason why, when a claimant opens aggressively, a respondent will often adjust their offer upward above where they had planned to open.[[4]] Demands in motions or statements of claim can influence ultimate recoveries.[[5]] We are repeatedly influenced by random or unimportant numbers without realizing it.
The use of anchoring, when done with skill, is indirect and often much more powerful than a rational and forceful argument over numbers. Claimants routinely influence defendants in settlement negotiations and mediations by using anchoring. Higher openings will often cause defense counsel to adjust a counteroffer higher than desired. Anchoring is more effective, when used properly, than an aggressive verbal demand that the defendant open in a particular range.
Generally, litigators need to consider the existing perspectives and beliefs of the people they seek to influence and recognize that the force or rationality of their arguments may have less power in a negotiation than in court. Effective mediation advocacy depends less on the force and rationality of your argument than on your ability to influence how the other side sees the problem. The true power to persuade in negotiation comes from using the more strategic, more indirect, less intuitive approach. Negotiators who recognize this distinction are far more likely to achieve success. In negotiation, the power of the sun is greater than that of the wind.
[3] Chang, Yunchien, Chen, KongPin, Lin, Chang-Chin, Anchoring Effect in Real Litigation: An Empirical Study, Coase-Sandor Working Paper Series in Law and Economics No. 744 (2016), Bucchianeri, Grace W., Julia A. Minson,Julia A., A homeowner's dilemma: Anchoring in Residential Real estate Transactions,
Journal of Economic Behavior & Organization,(Volume 89, 2013), Pages 76-92,
[4] This is not without qualification. Finding the correct opening is another science. There is such a thing as being too aggressive. A too aggressive opening will not successfully anchor and may cause the other side to withdraw rather than engage. Or the too-aggressive open may result in the need for that party to make significant moves—which will result in a loss of credibility or may lead to impasse even in negotiations where a suitable deal was available.
[5] See Gretchen B. Chapman & Brian H. Bornstein, The More You Ask for, the More You Get: Anchoring in Personal Injury Verdicts, 10 APPLIED COGNITIVE PSYCHOL. 519, 538 (1996), Dale W. Broeder, The University of Chicago Jury Project, 38 NEB. L. REV. 744, 754 (1959); Jane Goodman et al., Runaway Verdicts or Reasoned Determinations: Mock Juror Strategies in Awarding Damages, 29 JURIMETRICS J., 285, 291–92 (1989); Barry Markovsky, Anchoring Justice, 51 SOC. PSYCHOL. Q. 213, 214 (1988).