These
optical illusions rely on our preconceived notions of the world to trick us. Anchoring
is a related phenomenon that warps our perception. While academics do not agree
on the causes of anchoring, they agree on the result, which is that prior
information skews our perception of new information.
For example,
in store one, you find a piece of attractive clothing in your size on the
“remainder” rack. Its price tag shows mark-downs in stages from $149 to the
current price of $39. What a bargain, almost 75% off. It’s not that you need
it, but there’s only one left . . .and you buy it.
In a
parallel universe, you find a piece of attractive clothing in your size on the
“new arrivals” rack priced at $39. The surrounding racks have similar clothing
priced at $29, $25, and $19.95. It would look nice on you, but you walk away
without a whiff of regret.
Same
clothing, same price, different result because surrounding clues affected your
perception of the item. The first store presented you with a super-attractive
“bargain.” The second presented you with the most expensive item of its kind.
Marketers
know how to trick your mind. Restaurants will include an entrée priced well
above anything else on the menu making the other entrées appear “reasonable.”
Here’s an interesting article on other tricks restaurants use.
We often use
anchoring when we make estimates. Quick: in five seconds give me your best
guess of what the product of (1x2x3x4x5x6x7x8) is. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Your
guess is _________? In an experiment, guesses averaged 512. The same experiment asked a different group the question
with the numbers reversed (8x7x6x5x4x3x2x1). Those people’s guesses averaged
2,250, more than four times higher than the first group. The actual answer is
40,320, demonstrating we’re lousy at math, but also showing that by starting
with small numbers, we guessed a smaller result when presented with larger
numbers first.
We build our
knowledge of the world bit by bit, comparing the most recent information to
what we already “know.” The first article of clothing seemed such a good buy
because we anchored around it sitting on a “remainder” rack with a high
starting price. We have a false confidence in our “knowledge” and give it
priority over new information, especially if that information contradicts what
we “know.”
That is why first
impressions are so important for people. They become our anchor. We evaluate
future actions given the model of the person we have accepted. If the first
time we see someone, they are helping a little old lady cross a busy
intersection even though afterward they return across the street and head in a
different direction, we think them a good person, going out of their way to
help others. If the next time we see them, they are strong-arming a youngster
into the back seat of a car, we sympathize because we’ve all had to deal with
our kids when they had a hissy fit about doing what we wanted when we wanted.
But, if the
first time we saw the same person, one police officer was handcuffing him while
another comforted a crying youngster, we’d have a vastly different reaction
when we saw the “bad” guy strong-arming the child into the back seat.
Readers, step close and let me tell you a secret: authors manipulate you the same way marketers do. Shocking, I know. We show a character performing a nice or heroic act early in the story to “make” you like the person, and that positive vibe carries through even if later they’re going to do some nasty things. This trope even has a name: “save the cat.”
We create
red herrings or hide clues by giving you false anchors. In Granite Oath
(Seamus McCree #7), releasing at the end of August, a trail camera photograph
shows two male thieves, one tall and the other considerably shorter. I think of
myself as tall (I’m a six-footer), and so I picture the tall guy is my height,
maybe a few inches taller. The short guy must be around 5’4 – 5’6”. Turns out
the tall guy is nearly seven feet, and the short guy is taller than me.
When an
author pulls the wool over my eyes, I enjoy flipping pages back to discover how
they tricked me. Anchoring is often involved.
I’d love to
hear in the comments about your fictional reading or real-life anchoring
stories.
* * * * *
James M. Jackson authors the Seamus McCree series. Full of mystery and suspense, these thrillers explore financial crimes, family relationships, and what happens when they mix. You can sign up for his newsletter and find more information about Jim and his books at https://jamesmjackson.com.
Very interesting! How clever of you to make that connection. I've never thought of the similarities. And even though I feel I'm pretty savvy when it comes to marketing tricks, I must say, I do fall for them from time to time. Congratulations on your latest in the series releasing in August.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Korina. We're all susceptible. All we can do is try to be aware.
ReplyDeleteThis is fascinating, Jim. I bet anchoring accounts for how we can return to a place and think, "It's so much smaller than I remember!" This is great stuff to chew on. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteNo examples from me, but I’m still digesting the product example.
ReplyDeleteInteresting! I've shopped for far too long to fall for deceptive pricing practices (2 for $50 or $19.99 each). In addition, I told my kids a savvy shopper could calculate percentages and mark-downs in their heads.
ReplyDeleteI also agree that the best antagonists have some redeeming qualities.
Molly - you betcha -- when our eyes become higher off the ground, it gives us a different perspective.
ReplyDeleteKait - LOL
Margaret - With smart phones, everyone should be able to calculate percentages and mark-downs. -- Not that they do, of course.