Ever found yourself agreeing to a favor because you just liked the person who asked? It could be buying an overpriced chocolate bar from a coworker’s kid, or saying yes to an acquaintance’s sales pitch at a neighborhood fundraiser. You might not need another chocolate bar or scented candle, yet there you are, wallet open, smiling and assuring them it is no trouble. Something more than the product itself is nudging your decision. In those moments, you are experiencing the powerful pull of liking. The tendency to go along with people we feel fond of or connected to.
On the surface, it makes perfect sense that we help friends or prefer to deal with folks we like. It feels good to say yes to someone warm and friendly. But in Influence, Cialdini reveals just how far this principle can go and how it can be deliberately engineered. Liking is not just a social nicety; it is a lever of influence that can steer decisions in surprising ways. We have all heard the saying “Do not mix business with friendship,” yet businesses have learned that mixing the two can be incredibly effective at getting us to buy or comply without much deliberation. In this chapter, Cialdini pulls back the curtain on how our affections are used to influence us, why we are so susceptible to a friendly face or kind word, and what to watch out for when liking is being used as a persuasion tool.
At its heart, the liking principle is straightforward. We prefer to say yes to people we like. The tricky part is that likeability is not purely accidental or based on long friendships. It can be cultivated, even faked, by savvy persuaders. Cialdini dives into several factors that enhance liking, and each one can tip the scales of our decisions.
One factor is physical attractiveness. It is not exactly fair, but we often assume good-looking people have other good qualities too. This halo effect means an attractive stranger might seem more trustworthy or competent to us just because of their appearance. In one example, researchers found that juries are more lenient on attractive defendants; in another, job applicants’ chances can improve if they simply look the part. Advertisers have long capitalized on this quirk. Think of car commercials featuring charming actors or models. We might be focusing on the car, but some part of us is influenced by the likeability of the smiling face beside it.
Liking also grows from a sense of similarity. We tend to feel comfortable with people who remind us of ourselves. It could be as deep as sharing cultural background or as trivial as liking the same sports team. Even small talk about growing up in the same town can create a quick bond. Seasoned salespeople know this and try to mirror their customers. “Oh, you are from Chicago? My cousin lives there!” can spark an instant connection. In fact, there is a story of a financial consultant who increased his success rate by deliberately looking for any common ground with potential clients, from hobbies to alma maters. The clients often commented how easy it was to talk to him, as if he was “their kind of person,” and unsurprisingly, they were more inclined to trust his advice. Psychologically, these little me-too moments make us think, “This person is like me, so I like them, and I can trust them.”
Another almost reflexive source of affection is compliments. Flattery may be the oldest trick in the book, but it works more often than we care to admit. We all know the ingratiating flattery of a salesperson who says, “You have great taste; that watch looks amazing on you.” It might be calculated, yet a part of us glows under the praise. Cialdini notes that even if we recognize a compliment is not completely sincere, we tend to like the flatterer a bit more anyway. Our guard drops just enough. A friend of mine once joked that she “knew” the boutique attendant was buttering her up with compliments about her style, and still, my friend left the store with two dresses she was not planning to buy. Compliments feed our self-esteem, and we naturally gravitate toward the source of that good feeling.
Beyond these personal traits and tactics, familiarity and cooperation also breed liking. The more we see someone, the more familiar and safe they feel. Psychologists call it the mere exposure effect. This is one reason neighbors often develop a friendly rapport simply by virtue of proximity. It is also why team-building exercises exist. Working with someone toward a common goal, even a silly one, tends to turn them from a stranger into an ally. Cialdini shares an example of the classic “Good Cop or Bad Cop” routine in police interrogations. The bad cop alienates and intimidates, but then the good cop swoops in as the friendly savior, offering a cigarette and a smile. The contrast makes the good cop seem especially likable and sympathetic. “He’s on my side,” thinks the suspect, who then finds himself cooperating with someone he now trusts and likes. Similarly, in negotiation scenarios, a tactic might be to establish one person as the adversary pushing you hard, while another person plays the role of the amiable mediator. You end up siding with the nice mediator, feeling you have an ally, and you concede, not so much because the deal is great, but because you appreciate who you are dealing with.
Finally, there is the power of association. Humans can like or dislike something purely by what it is linked to. If a message or a product gets paired with things we already have positive feelings about, some of that positivity sticks to it. This is why advertisements pair a soft drink with shots of friends laughing on a beach at sunset. They want you to subconsciously associate their soda with happiness, friendship, and good times. Cialdini illustrates this effect with a curious observation. When the weather is pleasant, people report liking the news weatherperson more, but if a long stretch of rain ruins everyone’s plans, some viewers start grumbling about that same weatherperson. Of course, it is absurd. The poor meteorologist does not control the clouds, but the negative association rubs off nonetheless.
In another example, Cialdini points to sports fans and how they bask in reflected glory. After a big win, fans say “we won” (as if they were on the team) and proudly wear team colors. After a loss, it is “they lost,” and the gear goes back in the drawer. We love to attach ourselves to victories and distance ourselves from failures, instinctively associating with what makes us feel good. Savvy organizations understand this quirk of association. That is why companies scramble to sponsor championship teams or popular influencers. They are hoping some of that existing goodwill toward the athlete or influencer will make you like their brand or product by association.
Cialdini highlights cases like the wildly successful Tupperware parties of the 1980s, where the sales pitch happened not in a store but in a friend’s living room. People showed up for the punch and conversation, and ended up buying heaps of kitchenware mainly because their good friend was the one selling. Attendees knew that a portion of each sale was going to their friend, and that was exactly the point. It harnessed the power of friendship to drive sales. When you are having fun at a pal’s house and she enthuses about a product, it feels less like a commercial and more like a favor for someone you care about. The result? Tupperware’s business boomed on a wave of social bonds and neighborly affection.
Then there is the story of Joe Girard, who Cialdini cites as perhaps the greatest car salesman ever. Girard’s secret was not a high-pressure script or special deal. It was making every customer feel liked and appreciated. He famously sent each of his thousands of former clients a handwritten card every month with just three words: “I like you.” Corny as it sounds, Joe meant it (or at least acted as if he did). His customers believed he was a friend looking out for them, and when they needed a car, who else would they go to. By sincerely (and persistently) expressing liking, Girard nurtured real loyalty in return. It is a charming example of how showing people you genuinely like them can make them like you back and choose you over the competition when it matters.
All these instances underscore a double-edged truth. Liking leads to trust, and trust opens the door to influence. It is the social glue that holds communities together, but it can also become a slippery slope that can slide us into decisions before we realize what is happening. It is easy to think, “I cannot be swayed by flattery or a pretty face or a casual chat about my hobbies, I make decisions based on facts.” Yet time and again, we see how a clever persuader does not focus on the facts first. They focus on you liking them (or feeling liked). Once that is accomplished, the facts seem to matter a lot less.
Reading this chapter, I could not help but reflect on how often I have been charmed into a “yes.” One memory leapt to mind, a few years ago, a friend invited me to what I assumed would be a low-key hangout that turned out to be a pitch session for a new investing tool. I remember telling myself, before I even showed up, that I was not going to commit to anything I did not need. But as the evening went on, we were all laughing, tossing around stories, trading personal updates, and having a genuinely good time, so by the end I had signed up for a premium subscription I had never intended to buy.
I did not hand over my card because the tool’s features blew me away (honestly, I barely recall them). I did it because the mood felt welcoming, and I wanted to support my friend hosting the event. It felt less like a sales pitch and more like a friendly favor. Only later did I realize that was exactly how the company hoped it would play out. I still poke around on the platform occasionally, but the whole episode makes me smile now. I had said “yes” for reasons that were less about the product and more about social connection.
Once I started thinking about it, I saw the liking principle everywhere in my life. At work, I noticed I am more inclined to say “yes” to projects proposed by colleagues I enjoy working with. A colleague I chat with over coffee about weekend plans can bring up an idea on Monday, and I am already leaning toward it, whereas the same pitch from someone I barely know might be met with more caution. It is humbling to realize my brain is not purely cold, rational math. There is a fair bit of “who do I get along with” that tips the scales. And that is not necessarily a bad thing. Positive relationships make for better collaboration. But it made me wonder: have I ever dismissed a great idea just because I was not too fond of the person behind it. That thought gave me a moment of pause.
The chapter also got me thinking about the flip side. The times when I have been the one doing the persuading. I realized that whenever I need support or agreement, I almost automatically start by trying to build rapport, perhaps cracking a joke, finding common ground, tossing in a sincere compliment before making my request. That is the liking principle in action, even if I did not have a name for it. After reading Cialdini, I see more clearly why it is so effective.
One striking point Cialdini makes is that the best persuaders do not just get people to like them. They also discover ways to sincerely like the people they are trying to convince. When you honestly appreciate someone, instead of viewing them as a hurdle or a resource, the whole tone changes. There is deeper trust, and both sides feel heard. Going forward, I plan to keep this insight in mind, if I want to earn real buy-in, I should start by finding something genuine to appreciate about the other person. It is not merely a trick; it is a mindset.
Understanding the liking principle is like getting a peek behind the curtain. Once you see it, you cannot unsee it, and that is a good thing. Armed with this knowledge, we can navigate social influence more deliberately, both in business and in everyday life.
On the defensive side, if you suspect that a friendly approach is clouding your judgment, take a step back and separate the person from the proposal. One of the simplest safeguards is to ask yourself, “Would I feel the same about this deal if it came from someone I did not like?” Suppose a super affable salesperson is pitching you a pricey contract. Imagine the offer coming from a total stranger you have no feelings about, would you still think it is a good idea. By doing this little mental exercise, I often find I can judge the merits of the deal more clearly. It is not about becoming cynical or refusing to ever trust nice people; it is just about giving yourself that extra moment to ensure you are saying yes for the right reasons. If the offer still stands on its own merits, great. Your positive relationship is just icing on the cake. If not, you will be glad you paused.
Another practical tip is to be mindful of manufactured liking. Not every compliment or commonality is insincere, but be alert when a stranger or new acquaintance seems to be laying it on a bit thick. The flattery, the “Oh my gosh, me too” moments, the constant geniality. If it feels oddly rapid or forced, it might be a deliberate strategy. This does not mean you should assume ill intent behind every kind gesture (life would get pretty grim that way). Instead, just keep in the back of your mind that liking can be used as a tool. That awareness itself can act as an antidote. I have gotten to the point where, if I notice someone trying too hard to be likable in a setting where they stand to gain something from me, a little alarm bell goes off. It reminds me to look past the chumminess and evaluate what is actually on the table.
On the offensive (or proactive) side, if you are in a role where you need to persuade or lead, you can harness the liking principle ethically. The key word is ethically. Cialdini’s work underscores that while these tools can be used to manipulate, they can also be used to genuinely connect and create win-win situations. Start by finding authentic common ground with the people you work with or hope to influence. Small talk is not filler, it is relationship-building. Share a bit about yourself and show interest in them. If you discover you both love hiking or have kids the same age, linger on that a moment. It is not wasted time; it is laying a foundation of goodwill. Sincere compliments are powerful too. If you admire a colleague’s approach to problem-solving, let them know. Do not fabricate praise, but do not hold back real appreciation either. Positivity invites positivity.
The personal lesson I took from Joe Girard’s story is that showing people you like them can be transformational, as long as it is genuine. In business, managers who take time to know and appreciate their team often find the team goes the extra mile for them. That is liking in action. Entrepreneurs building a client base might focus not just on closing deals, but on remembering birthdays, sending thank-you notes, and building a friendly rapport over time. None of that is wasted effort. When people feel liked, they feel safe and seen, and they naturally reciprocate with trust and loyalty. It is a human truth that can be honored rather than exploited.
Ultimately, recognizing the sway of liking helps us strike a balance. We do not want to shut off our positive connections. Life would be dreary if we only made decisions in a cold vacuum devoid of friendship or kindness. At the same time, we do not want to be duped by someone pretending to be our buddy just to get something out of us. By being conscious of how affection can influence us, we get to enjoy the warmth of human connection and keep a clear head when it counts.
For those who want to explore this topic further, the definitive source is of course Influence: The Psychology of Persuasion by Robert B. Cialdini (see the chapter on Liking). It is full of eye-opening research and anecdotes on how and why liking affects us. Another great read is Cialdini’s follow-up book, Pre-Suasion, which touches on how establishing rapport and warmth before a request can set the stage for success. For a lighter take, there are plenty of articles and talks online summarizing the liking principle in everyday scenarios, once you start looking, you will begin to notice these “friendly persuaders” all around you.
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