Here’s an intriguing (and for writers, a most instructive) scene from one of the greatest films in Hollywood history:
“Christ what a trip. The whole time I’m thinking, what if somebody knows what I got in here? Can you imagine that? Two million dollars on the seat next to me in that plane? Mikey, what the hell’s going on anyway? I’m totally in the dark.”
Mikey picks up the suitcase and carries it off. “The family’s making an investment in Havana. This is a little gift for the President.”
Maybe you recognize this scene. It’s from The Godfather, part 2. Fredo Corleone, the oldest surviving son of the Godfather, is talking to his younger brother Michael, who now heads the Corleone crime family.
Michael recently survived an assassination attempt. He knows his business partner Heyman Roth and Roth’s henchman Johnny Ola were behind it. What he doesn’t know is who inside his own circle betrayed him and collaborated with Roth.
Fredo puts his hands in his pockets as he watches the suitcase disappear.
“Havana’s great!” he says. “My kind of town. Anybody I know in Havana?”
Michael pours himself a glass of water. “Oh… Heyman Roth? Johnny Ola?”
Fredo stares for a bit, trying to pull out a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket. Finally he manages to get the cigarettes out. He looks away.
”No. Never met them.”
A couple weeks ago, I wrote an email about negotiation coach Jim Camp. Camp helped negotiate many billion-dollar deals, but he became famous thanks to his contrarian, oracle-like sayings.
One thing Camp said is that he likes to negotiate in the bathroom. That might sounds contrarian, but it’s not. It’s very literal, and backed by basic human psychology.
For an example, fast forward a bit, to Havana.
Fredo isn’t smart or strong enough to run the Corleone family, but he’s a fun guy. He knows all the cool spots. He takes Michael and a few U.S. Senators and judges to a girl-and-python act.
“Watch,” says Fredo, as he pours out glasses of rum. “You’re not gonna believe this.”
A young woman is brought out on stage. She is tied to a kind of ceremonial pillar. Then a man in a silk robe is brought out. Two assistants pull off his silk robe to leave him standing naked in front of the audience.
The guys with Fredo — except Michael, who’s checking his watch — gasp and then start chuckling.
“That thing’s gotta be a fake. Hey Freddie! Freddie! How’d you even find this place?”
Fredo doesn’t take his eyes off the stage. “Johnny Ola told me about this place. He brought me here. I didn’t believe him, but seeing is believing. Old man Roth would never come here, but old Johnny knows these places like the back of his hand.”
Michael doesn’t move. He doesn’t say anything. But he looks like somebody just punched him in the gut. And he turns around, and gives a signal to his man who is standing at the door.
So there you go. The reason to negotiate in the bathroom, or during the girl-and-python act. It’s because barriers come down. Jim Camp explains: “As they go to the bathroom, you ask them a question. They’ll answer. They smile, and they answer the question. It’s a great time to do research.”
I wrote about that in my email couple weeks ago. But then I asked myself, what’s really going on? Is this just a negotiation trick?
Eventually, it dawned on me. It’s not a trick. It’s a bit of very basic human psychology.
Our brain likes to think in discrete events, snapshots, scenes, like a movie. This much is obvious. What’s less obvious and more interesting are the consequences. From a New Yorker article on the topic:
“Walking into a room, you might forget why you came in; this happens, researchers say, because passing through the doorway brings one mental scene to a close and opens another.”
Like I said, a bit of fundamental human psychology.
You can now shrug your shoulders and say, “So what?” That would be a Fredo-like thing to do.
Or you can be more like Michael Corleone, and think about how to adapt, how to use this bit of psychology for your own ends.
That’s what Jim Camp did. That’s what successful magicians do. And successful writers, too. In fact, it’s what I’ve tried to do in this very email.
Let me end there, and point you to an offer you can certainly refuse. It’s my Most Valuable Email training, a kind of man-and-keyboard act. In case you’re a person who likes to take advantage of fundamental human psychology: