The Sweet Deception or the Power of Cognitive Dissonance

Good evening, everyone! This is Stalilingus. Today, I’m sharing a very powerful piece with you. It’s not my own, but I believe that anyone interested in NLP and developing their own manipulation skills simply must read the text below. Enjoy!

Leon Festinger and the Theory of Cognitive Dissonance

Leon Festinger was an American psychologist and the author of the theory of cognitive dissonance. This theory states that when people are forced to behave in ways that contradict their internal beliefs, they begin to feel discomfort and social pressure. To avoid this unpleasant state, we start to “adjust” ourselves and some of our thoughts to fit the imposed standards or situations.

For example, imagine you bought an expensive but completely useless device that doesn’t even work well. You can’t admit to others that you made a bad purchase, can you? So how does our internal switch work in this case?

An Interesting Experiment

Imagine you’re invited to participate in a social experiment. The participants are divided into two groups. One group is told nothing about the upcoming tasks, while the other group is given a certain mindset.

You end up in the first group. For the first 30 minutes, you move spools in a box, and for the next 30 minutes, you move pegs around a board. All of this seems incredibly boring—which, in fact, it is.

After the experiment, the facilitator enters the room and asks if you enjoyed it. When you say it was terribly boring, he acts surprised and tells you that all the other participants enjoyed it and found the tasks very interesting.

Then he asks you for a small favor. His assistant, who usually introduces the next participant, didn’t show up, so he needs someone to tell the next person how exciting the experiment is. He offers you $1 for this favor. You agree, and when the next participant enters, you tell them that they’re about to do a very interesting task—even though just five minutes ago you thought you’d die of boredom before the experiment ended. The facilitator thanks you and reminds you again that others found the tasks fascinating.

Next, you go to another room for an interview about the experiment. You’re asked how interesting the tasks were and given a couple of minutes to think about your answer. As you reflect, the tasks don’t seem so boring anymore. You even start to see a certain beauty in the symmetry of moving spools and pegs. The thought that you’ve contributed to science and that the results might reveal something useful warms your heart. You decide the tasks were actually quite interesting.

Finally, you talk to a friend who was in the second group. During your conversation, you find out that your experiences were almost identical, except for one thing—your friend was paid $100 to introduce the next participant and set a positive tone, while you only got $1. When you ask how they felt about the tasks, your friend says they were terribly boring! But you no longer feel that way and try to convince them of the hidden beauty and excitement of the activities.

What Happened?

You weren’t warned that the tasks would be boring, but after completing them, you were repeatedly told that everyone else enjoyed them. Your initial feelings didn’t match the majority opinion, so you started to feel uncomfortable. Your mind began searching for a way out of this awkward situation, and eventually, you found “hidden charms” in the tasks—because if everyone else liked them, you must have missed something. Your brain creates its own “augmented reality.” The second group didn’t experience this conflict because they were told in advance that the experiment would be boring, so they felt no guilt or discomfort.

Since the first experiment, similar studies have been repeated dozens of times, and every time the results show that people are prone to self-deception when under external pressure. We come up with incredible reasons and justifications and start to believe them, just so our internal state matches the majority opinion, at least a little.

The Power of Cognitive Dissonance

A great example of cognitive dissonance in action is seen with coaches who sell training sessions—sometimes for a hefty price. There are a few rules for successful coaching, all based on people’s tendency to deceive themselves: trainings should be expensive; the bigger the group, the better; and there’s always a guaranteed result.

We all join in, repeating everything the coach says in unison. Yes, we can do anything! Yes, there are no insurmountable obstacles! Yes, we’re the most charming and attractive! And even if we don’t actually feel any of this after the training, it’s embarrassing to admit it. First, because everyone else is smiling and saying that “impossible” no longer exists for them. We can’t be less talented than the dozen others in the group, right? Second, we paid a lot of money, and it’s hard to admit to friends (or ourselves) that it was wasted. So our subconscious quickly starts looking for all sorts of justifications and benefits gained from the sessions.

Soldiers justify their actions when following orders that go against their beliefs by telling themselves it’s their duty. Politicians lie to voters, convincing themselves it’s for the good of the country—they have to get into government by any means, right? For example, Hitler convinced the German people that Poland started World War II and that he was actually saving Europe from communism. He died truly believing that Germany was the victim of a global Jewish conspiracy.

Don’t let others convince you that your thoughts don’t match reality just because everyone else thinks differently. We have reason, which allows us to think rationally and separate the not-so-pretty truth from beautiful lies. Don’t give in to herd mentality—think, analyze, and don’t be afraid to admit your mistakes and failures.

Stalilingus