Way of the Wolf: Straight Line Selling: Master the Art of Persuasion, Influence, and Success

“Look,” he said proudly. “I hit this right on the inside of the ball—right here—so that would’ve been a nice, solid draw, about two hundred eighty yards in the short grass!” Then he went on to explain how you could also see if you were hitting the ball too close to the heel or toe, which would help you get rid of the most dreaded of all swing results: the shanks.

So, I took a few moments to consider everything—realizing the obvious fact that, what with golf being the hardest sport in the world to master, there was a very slim chance that this little contraption could improve my golf swing even one iota. Nonetheless, the sucker in me came shining through, and I asked, “How much does it cost?”

“It’s only forty-nine dollars,” he replied. “And it comes right in the box. You can carry it on the plane with you.”

“Fine, I’ll take it,” I muttered, and, just like that, I bought it right on the spot, knowing full well that there was virtually no chance it was going to work.

But why?

Why would I make a decision that seemed to fly directly in the face of my own self-interest? The answer lies with the inner mechanics of how human beings, as a species, go about making their buying decisions.

Specifically, they run parallel movies through their minds.

In other words, the instant before you make a buying decision, your brain runs not one but two separate movies: it runs a positive one, which represents the upside potential, in the form of all the wonderful benefits that you’ll get to experience in the future if the product turns out to be as awesome as the salesman has cracked it up to be; and it runs a negative one, which represents the downside risk, in the form of the all painful things that you’ll experience in the future if it turns out that the salesman misled you, and the product is a total piece of crap. In other words, what’s your best-case scenario, and what’s your worst-case scenario?

Your brain runs both of these movies through your mind simultaneously, but it happens so fast that you don’t even realize it. For example, with the golf training system, let’s say the salesman had turned out to be a total scam artist, and his product was useless.

What’s the worst thing that could have happened to me if I bought it?

Is a purchase of $49 going to put me in the poorhouse?

No, of course not!

Is it going to make my golf swing even worse?

I highly doubt it.

Am I going to feel like an idiot for getting taken to the cleaners?

No, again, because I spent only $49 on the thing. So what’s the big deal?

And that’s about as negative as I’ll go, in terms of future pacing my downside risk.

However, when it comes to considering the upside potential . . . well . . . in that case, I’ll really let my imagination go.

I’ll be saying to myself, “Well, if this thing can help me get rid of those dastardly shanks I’ve been hitting and help me hit a beautiful drive like that skinny little Asian kid, then I can only imagine how great I’m going to feel when I’m sitting in the clubhouse with my buddies after a long round of golf, and we’re having a few beers while I’m talking about my new and improved golf swing!”

Now, that’s a perfect example of how someone like myself, with a very low action threshold, will play out a very empowering, positive movie, without any prompting from an outside force. And while I’ll always make it a point to play out the negative movie too, I won’t spend a lot of time doing it. Instead, I’ll blunt that movie, both in length and intensity, turning it into a shorter and more watered-down version than it probably should be.

On the flip side of the question, let’s look at someone who’s literally the polar opposite of me—meaning, someone with an ultra-high action threshold, like my father, Max, who is literally one of the toughest buyers on the planet.

In point of fact, my father will not buy anything unless he is absolutely certain about all three Tens, and that means damn sure of them. There are no miracle golf cures getting sold to him in an airport. In fact, the moment he realized that the kid swinging the golf club was actually selling something, he would be like: “Who the hell does that kid think he is, selling some miracle golf cure? I mean, can’t a man walk through an airport anymore without someone trying to sell him something? Besides, what makes this kid an authority on golf? What a set of balls on this kid! What—a—set—of—balls!”

In consequence, if you get someone like my father to an 8, 8, 8 on the certainty scale, then there’s simply no possible way they’ll buy. Similarly, they won’t buy at an 8, 10, 8 or an 8, 9, 8. The only way they’ll buy is when you get them to a 10, 10, 10 and they’re damn sure of it.