Harvard Research Shows People Who Excel at Getting the Help They Need, and at Helping Others, Always Use This Word

Say you have an idea for a business. Or a new plan. Or a prototype of a new product. You feel confident about the direction you’re on, but what if you’re on the wrong track?

You want (you need) to know what other people think — especially people whose knowledge, wisdom, and experience you trust. Not concidentally, you also might need their help to bring your idea to life. (Who hasn’t been asked for input as a precursor to a soon-to-follow request for help?)

What do you do? The answer is obvious: You ask for their opinion.

Even though that’s a terrible idea, according to Robert Cialdini, the author of the classic bestseller Influence: The Science of Persuasion.

“When you ask for someone’s opinion,” Cialdini says, “you get a critic. That person literally takes a half-step back from you psychologically and goes inside themselves to see where they are relative to your idea. It [becomes] them, and everybody else, against your idea.”

That’s the problem with asking for opinions. Using the word “opinion” is like asking for “feedback.” As the researchers involved in this Harvard Business School study found:

Feedback is often associated with evaluation. [My italics] This makes it harder to imagine someone’s future, and possibly better, performance. As a result, feedback givers end up providing less critical and actionable input.

In contrast, when asked to provide advice, people focus less on evaluation and more on possible future actions. Whereas the past is unchangeable, the future is full of possibilities.

So, if you ask someone for advice, they will be more likely to think forward to future opportunities to improve rather than backwards to the things you have done, which you can no longer change.

Thought of another way, asking for feedback is like asking for a grade. You focus on what I’ve done, not what I can do. You evaluate what is, not what could be. In that case, I’m more likely to be concerned about hurting your feelings; I might offer one or two gentle points of criticism, but otherwise, I’ll tell you your idea or plan is, at the very least, solid. (Even though the kinder thing would be to tell you what you need to hear, not want to hear.)

So which word should you use instead of “opinion” when you ask for input?

Advice.

Asking for advice causes the other person to think about possibilities. Asking for advice is like asking “What could (never “should”) I do?” because advice implicitly focuses the conversation on the future. 

What happens as a result? The Harvard researchers found asking for “advice” rather than “opinion” — changing just one word — resulted in respondents offering more than a third more areas of improvement, and more than half as many ways to improve. 

Or as Cialdini says, when you ask for advice the other person “takes a half step towards you. They partner with you, inside your idea, to find the best way to structure that idea. So now it’s you, and that person, against everybody else.”

A week ago, the fellow who cuts the grass at some of our rental properties said, “Can you give me your opinion? I’m thinking about quitting my full-time job to do lawn care full-time.” Immediately, I felt a little uncomfortable. Mentally, I took Cialdini’s half-step back. He’s a hard worker, and I’m clearly a proponent of entrepreneurship, but there’s no way I can know whether he should take the plunge. So I mumbled a few platitudes.

I could tell he was disappointed.

So when I saw him yesterday, I said, “I’ve been thinking about what you asked. Whether you should quit your job and try to build your business is something only you can decide. But I can give you some advice on how to evaluate the pros and cons. And I can give you some questions you should ask yourself.”

His eyes lit up. Mine did too, because now I was standing on much safer (and more fun) ground. I wasn’t “grading” his idea. I was offering advice. What math he might do. How to make a few projections, and layer in a few sensitivities. I told him he should think about what kind of business he wants to run, and how he feels about someday having (and having to manage) a few employees, especially if he wants to build a business that won’t be totally dependent on his labor alone.

In short, I gave him advice about things I think he should think about, things that will help him determine whether taking the plunge is right for him. I don’t — I shouldn’t, and therefore can’t — have an opinion about that.

But I can offer lots of advice.

And, as Cialdini says, I started to buy in. I told him, if the need arose, he could use our building to store some of his equipment. I told him, if he later had the capacity, we would consider having him cut a few more of our lawns. I was starting to “partner” with him, simply because I was giving advice.

That’s the real point of the research.

If you want input, ask for advice. If nothing else, the person you ask will be flattered. Asking for their advice implicitly says you respect their skills, judgment, and experience. They’ll naturally take Cialdini’s half-step forward. In the process, they might even decide to help you. Even if their input isn’t helpful, you will still have made another person feel valued.

That, in itself, is a win.

And if someone asks for your opinion, change the conversation. Don’t provide a grade, offer advice. Give them a few questions they could ask themselves. (One I offered to my friend was, a la Jeff Bezos, to think about whether he would someday regret never having tried more than having tried and failed.) Offer a different way to evaluate their idea. Tell them what you would do, if you were in their shoes, to determine which direction to take.

Don’t ask for opinions. Ask for advice.

And if you’re asked for your opinion? Answer by giving advice.

Because no matter how smart we might like to think we are, the only opinion that ultimately matters is theirs.