To Sell Is Human

To Sell Is Human Plot Summary

Introduction

The airport terminal was bustling with travelers rushing to their gates, faces buried in phones, barely acknowledging each other's existence. I found myself observing a scene unfold at the coffee counter. The barista, a young woman with an infectious smile, engaged each customer with genuine interest. She remembered names, asked thoughtful questions, and made personalized recommendations. What struck me most was how people transformed in her presence – hurried frowns melted into smiles, shoulders relaxed, and many left with more than just coffee. They departed with a lightness in their step and a subtle shift in mood. This woman wasn't just serving coffee; she was moving people – emotionally, psychologically, and even physically toward a better state of being. This moment captures the essence of what Daniel Pink explores in his fascinating work. We've traditionally associated "selling" with used car lots and door-to-door salesmen, viewing it as something only certain people do in specific occupations. But Pink challenges this narrow conception, revealing that regardless of our job title, we're all in sales now – teachers persuading students to engage, parents convincing children to eat vegetables, colleagues pitching ideas in meetings. Through compelling research and vivid stories, he dismantles outdated notions about persuasion and influence, offering a fresh framework for moving others in an age where information parity has transformed human interactions. The insights within these pages won't just change how you view selling; they'll transform how you connect with others in every domain of your life.

Chapter 1: The New Landscape of Sales in a Digital World

Norman Hall is likely the last Fuller Brush Man in America. For over forty years, he's traversed the steep hills of San Francisco with his leather binder of product images, selling brushes, brooms, and cleaning supplies door-to-door. In his seventies now, with patches of white hair and a carefully knotted bow tie, he still approaches each customer with the same gentle persistence that has sustained his career since the 1970s. "I'm soft-spoken in my work," Hall explains as he enters an office building to deliver products ordered the day before. After completing his delivery, he spots a potential new customer in a break room making coffee. He introduces himself politely, mentioning he's been selling Fuller products in this area for decades. The woman responds with obvious disinterest, eager to finish her coffee and escape. Yet Hall persists with remarkable patience, never pushing but slowly building rapport. By the time her coffee finishes brewing, she's agreed to let him stop by her office later. "That," Hall whispers to the author observing this interaction, "is how it starts." Hall represents a dying breed in the traditional sales world. The Fuller Brush Company, once so iconic that Disney's Big Bad Wolf disguised himself as a Fuller Brush Man to gain entry to the Three Little Pigs' homes, declared bankruptcy in 2012. Door-to-door selling has largely vanished from the American landscape, seemingly confirming predictions about the death of sales in the digital era. Yet the data tells a surprisingly different story. One in nine American workers – about fifteen million people – still earns a living in traditional sales, persuading customers to make purchases. What's more astonishing is what's happening with the other eight in nine. Research reveals these workers now spend about 40 percent of their time in "non-sales selling" – persuading, influencing, and convincing others without directly selling products. Teachers convince students to engage with material, doctors persuade patients to take medication, entrepreneurs pitch investors, parents negotiate with children. We're all selling something, whether ideas, efforts, or commitments rather than tangible goods. This transformation reflects our economic evolution. Information once hoarded by salespeople now flows freely to buyers, shifting power dynamics fundamentally. Traditional tactics of deception or pressure increasingly backfire in a world where customers can instantly broadcast their experiences globally. What succeeds today isn't slick talking or aggressive closing techniques, but deeper human qualities that connect us authentically to others. The new landscape of selling isn't about transactions but transformations – moving others toward outcomes that benefit everyone involved.

Chapter 2: Attunement: Getting Inside Others' Heads

In the classic 1992 film Glengarry Glen Ross, Alec Baldwin's character delivers a blistering speech to a group of underperforming salesmen. His message is summed up in the now-famous ABCs of selling: "Always Be Closing." This aggressive approach, focused solely on pushing prospects to sign on the dotted line regardless of their needs, epitomized old-school sales tactics. But in today's transformed landscape, the first essential quality for moving others effectively is something entirely different: attunement. To understand attunement, try this simple exercise. Ask someone to draw the letter E on their forehead. Some people will draw it so they can read it (self-oriented), while others will draw it so you can read it (other-oriented). This seemingly trivial distinction reveals something profound about perspective-taking ability. Those who draw the E readable to others demonstrate attunement – the capacity to understand others' viewpoints and adapt accordingly. Adam Galinsky of Northwestern University has conducted fascinating research on how power affects this ability. In one study, his team temporarily induced feelings of either high or low power in participants before giving them the E test. The results were striking: high-power participants were nearly three times more likely to draw a self-oriented E than low-power participants. Power, it seems, reduces our ability to take others' perspectives. This finding upends conventional wisdom about influence. While we often assume having power is advantageous for moving others, Galinsky's research suggests the opposite: reducing your power may actually enhance your effectiveness. Gwen Martin, co-founder of a successful staffing agency, embodies this principle though she'd never heard of Galinsky's research. When asked what qualities make someone effective at moving others, she repeatedly mentioned "humility." "The most common thread in people who are really good at this is humility," she explained. "They take the attitude of 'I'm sitting in the small chair so you can sit in the big chair.'" By lowering their status and adapting to others' perspectives, the best influencers create deeper connections. Another surprising finding about attunement comes from Wharton professor Adam Grant's research on sales performance. Conventional wisdom has long held that extraverts make the best salespeople. Yet Grant's data reveals something unexpected: the most successful salespeople aren't extraverts or introverts but "ambiverts" – those who fall in the middle of the personality spectrum. These individuals earn 24% more than extraverts and even more compared to introverts. They succeed because they're flexible – knowing when to speak up and when to shut up, when to push and when to yield. Attunement isn't about manipulative techniques or dominant personalities; it's about genuine connection through perspective-taking. By temporarily stepping out of our own viewpoint to understand others' motivations, concerns, and interests, we create the foundation for meaningful influence. In a world where information advantages have disappeared, the ability to see through others' eyes has become the most valuable tool for moving them. The new ABCs begin with attunement – and it's a skill anyone can develop with practice and awareness.

Chapter 3: Buoyancy: Staying Afloat in an Ocean of Rejection

"Every day I face what I call an ocean of rejection," Norman Hall confides as he continues his rounds selling Fuller Brush products. For more than forty years, he's endured countless doors slammed in his face, dismissive responses, and outright rejections. Yet each morning, he still musters the courage to head out into the streets of San Francisco, sample case in hand. What psychological resources allow him to stay afloat in these challenging waters? The answer lies in what Daniel Pink calls "buoyancy" – the second essential quality for effectively moving others. Buoyancy operates in three phases: before, during, and after your attempts to move others. The "before" phase involves how you talk to yourself prior to an important encounter. Traditional sales wisdom has long advocated for positive self-talk – affirmations like "I'm the best" or "I will succeed." Yet research by Ibrahim Senay and colleagues reveals something counterintuitive: interrogative self-talk ("Can I do this?") outperforms declarative self-talk ("I can do this"). In one experiment, participants who asked themselves if they could solve puzzles outperformed those who told themselves they could solve them by nearly 50%. Why? Questions prompt you to generate your own reasons for success and your own strategies for getting there. When you ask "Can I make a great pitch?" you might remind yourself of past successes or mentally rehearse specific techniques you'll use. This self-generated motivation proves more durable and effective than simply declaring confidence you might not genuinely feel. During your efforts to move others, the key is maintaining the right balance of positivity and negativity. Barbara Fredrickson, a leading researcher on positive emotions, has discovered what she calls the "positivity ratio." When positive emotions (like gratitude, interest, and amusement) outnumber negative emotions (like anger, shame, and fear) by at least 3-to-1, people generally flourish. However, too much positivity – beyond about 11-to-1 – becomes counterproductive. Some negativity, what Fredrickson calls "appropriate negativity," is essential for receiving feedback and making improvements. After encountering rejection, the final component of buoyancy emerges: explanatory style. Martin Seligman of the University of Pennsylvania discovered that how we explain negative events dramatically affects our resilience. People with a pessimistic explanatory style interpret setbacks as permanent ("This always happens"), pervasive ("This undermines everything"), and personal ("It's all my fault"). Those with an optimistic style see rejections as temporary, specific, and external. In a study of insurance salespeople, those with optimistic explanatory styles sold 37% more than their pessimistic counterparts and were half as likely to quit during their first year. Norman Hall exemplifies this optimistic explanatory style. When rejected by potential customers, he views it as temporary ("They're just busy today"), specific ("This particular store doesn't need supplies right now"), or external ("The economy is tight"). This mental framing allows him to preserve his sense of efficacy and return the next day with renewed enthusiasm. Buoyancy isn't about blind optimism or denying reality. It's about developing psychological resources that keep you afloat through inevitable difficulties. By asking yourself questions rather than making declarations, maintaining a healthy positivity ratio, and explaining rejections in constructive ways, you develop the resilience needed to navigate the emotional challenges of moving others. In a world where persistence often determines success, buoyancy becomes essential not just for sales professionals but for anyone attempting to influence others.

Chapter 4: Clarity: From Problem-Solving to Problem-Finding

Hal Hershfield, a social psychologist at New York University, was troubled by a puzzling question: Why do so many people fail to save adequately for retirement, even when they understand the importance of doing so? The conventional explanation involved our inherent difficulty balancing present rewards against future benefits. But Hershfield suspected something deeper was at work. In an ingenious experiment, he divided participants into two groups. The first group saw a digital avatar of themselves at their current age; the second group saw an age-morphed avatar showing what they'd look like at seventy. Then all participants were asked how they'd allocate an unexpected $1,000 windfall. The results were striking: those who'd seen their future selves allocated more than twice as much money to retirement accounts compared to those who'd only seen their current selves. The problem wasn't just our struggle with delayed gratification, but something more fundamental: we literally view our future selves as strangers. Brain scans confirm that thinking about our future selves activates neural patterns similar to thinking about completely different people. "To people estranged from their future selves," Hershfield explains, "saving is like a choice between spending money today and giving it to a stranger years from now." By reframing the retirement problem in this unexpected way, Hershfield demonstrated the third essential quality for moving others: clarity – the ability to help others see their situations in fresh and more revealing ways and to identify problems they didn't realize they had. For decades, salespeople were taught that their primary value was as problem solvers. They'd diagnose customers' needs and prescribe solutions. But in today's information-saturated environment, customers can often solve known problems themselves with a quick internet search. What they truly value is someone who can help them identify problems they don't even realize they have – someone who can find the right problems to solve. Jacob Getzels and Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi's pioneering research at the University of Chicago illustrates this distinction. In the 1960s, they studied art students completing still-life drawings. Some students approached the task as problem solvers – quickly selecting objects and efficiently creating their compositions. Others were problem finders – examining many objects, rearranging them repeatedly, and taking longer to complete their work. When art experts evaluated the results, they consistently rated the problem finders' work as more creative. Even more tellingly, when the researchers followed up eighteen years later, the problem finders had achieved significantly more professional success than the problem solvers. Ralph Chauvin, vice president of sales at Perfetti Van Melle (makers of Mentos and other candies), sees this shift playing out in real time. His best salespeople no longer simply sell candy; they sell insights about the confectionery business. They analyze data to tell retailers "what assortment of candy is best for them to make the most money" – even if that means recommending fewer Mentos flavors or including competitors' products. They succeed by finding problems the retailers didn't know they had. Clarity also involves framing – helping others see situations through particular lenses that illuminate different aspects of reality. Effective frames include the "less frame" (limiting choices to avoid decision paralysis), the "experience frame" (emphasizing experiences over material goods), and the "potential frame" (highlighting someone's future promise rather than past accomplishments). In a world overflowing with information but starving for insight, clarity has become the scarcest and most valuable resource. Those who can cut through complexity to identify unrecognized problems and frame situations in illuminating ways will be the most effective at moving others toward better outcomes. True clarity doesn't manipulate; it liberates – helping people see what truly matters amid the noise of modern life.

Chapter 5: Pitch Perfect: The Art of Modern Persuasion

In the fall of 1853, an American craftsman named Elisha Otis faced a daunting challenge. He had invented a safety brake that would prevent elevators from plummeting if their cables snapped – solving a problem that had limited the height of buildings for centuries. But convincing skeptical buyers required more than technical explanations. It required a pitch that would dramatically demonstrate his invention's value. Otis rented New York City's largest convention hall and constructed an open elevator platform that rose three stories above the floor. As spectators gathered, he climbed aboard, was hoisted to the top, and then – in a heart-stopping moment – had an assistant cut the supporting rope with an axe. The platform dropped but then quickly stopped as the safety brake engaged. Looking calmly at the gasping audience, Otis simply stated: "All safe, gentlemen. All safe." Orders flooded in, and the modern skyscraper became possible. Otis had delivered the world's first elevator pitch. For decades afterward, the concept of the "elevator pitch" – a succinct, persuasive speech deliverable in the time span of an elevator ride – became a cornerstone of selling. But in today's attention-fragmented world, even this brief format has become outdated. The modern environment calls for new approaches to pitching ideas. One alternative is the one-word pitch, championed by advertising legend Maurice Saatchi. He argues that in a world of information overload, messages must achieve "brutal simplicity" to cut through the noise. Companies should strive to own a single word in the public mind. When anyone thinks of that word, they think of your brand; when they think of your brand, that word comes to mind. Google owns "search." MasterCard owns "priceless." During his 2012 reelection campaign, President Obama built his strategy around the word "forward." By reducing your message to its essence, you force clarity and focus. Another effective approach is the question pitch. When Ronald Reagan asked voters in 1980, "Are you better off now than you were four years ago?" he used the interrogative form to powerful effect. Research by Robert Burnkrant and Daniel Howard reveals why questions often outperform statements: they require more mental engagement from the listener. When I make a statement, you can receive it passively; when I ask a question, you must actively process it, generating your own reasons for agreement. This deeper engagement makes questions particularly effective when your underlying arguments are strong. The rhyming pitch offers another alternative. When O.J. Simpson's attorney Johnnie Cochran told jurors, "If it doesn't fit, you must acquit," he wasn't just being clever. Research shows that rhyming statements are judged as more accurate than non-rhyming versions with identical meanings. Rhymes enhance what linguists call "processing fluency" – they're easier for our brains to understand and remember, which we unconsciously interpret as indicating truthfulness. Perhaps the most comprehensive modern pitch format is the Pixar pitch, based on the narrative structure behind the animation studio's blockbuster films. Former Pixar story artist Emma Coats revealed this six-sentence template: "Once upon a time ____. Every day, ____. One day ____. Because of that, ____. Because of that, ____. Until finally ____." This structure works because it taps into the persuasive power of storytelling while enforcing brevity and clarity. It provides a framework for explaining how things are, how they could be different, and the causality that connects these states. The evolution of pitching reflects our broader shift from information scarcity to information abundance. In a world where attention has become the scarcest resource, effective pitches don't dump information; they engage minds, spark curiosity, and invite participation. The best pitches aren't endpoints but beginnings – they start conversations that lead to deeper understanding and eventual agreement. They don't merely persuade; they inspire others to persuade themselves.

Chapter 6: Improvise: Master the Unexpected

The conference room on the fourteenth floor of a Manhattan office building became the stage for an unusual scene. A group of business executives stood facing partners they'd just met, staring intently into each other's eyes. Following instructions from their teacher, Cathy Salit, when one person moved, the other mirrored the movement perfectly – raising a hand, tilting the head, or shifting weight in perfect synchronization. This wasn't a bizarre corporate team-building exercise; it was improvisation training, designed to help these professionals become more effective at moving others. For decades, sales was dominated by scripts. The National Cash Register Company, founded in the late 1800s, required salesmen to memorize presentations down to the gestures, with asterisks in the manual indicating precisely when to point at specific features. The company even produced a "Book of Arguments" with pre-crafted responses to every conceivable customer objection. This scripted approach thrived in environments where sellers held significant information advantages over buyers and where products changed little from year to year. But today's landscape has transformed. When information flows freely and situations change rapidly, scripts become counterproductive. Enter improvisation – the ability to create spontaneously and adapt in the moment. Drawing from theatrical improvisation pioneered by Viola Spolin and Keith Johnstone, this approach provides a flexible structure for navigating unpredictable human interactions. The first principle of improv is hearing offers. In traditional sales, professionals were taught to "overcome objections" – to push past whatever the customer said to reach the desired outcome. Improv teaches the opposite: what seem like objections are often offers in disguise. When a potential donor says, "I can't give $200," that's not just a rejection; it's an offer that might lead to "What amount would work for you?" or "Perhaps you could volunteer instead?" The key is learning to listen differently – slowing down, making genuine eye contact, and attending fully to what others are saying instead of planning your next statement. The second principle is "Yes and" – accepting what others offer and building upon it. Imagine planning an event with someone. If each statement begins with "Yes, but," the conversation spirals into negativity: "Yes, but that venue is too expensive... Yes, but people won't travel that far..." Nothing moves forward. Contrast this with "Yes, and": "Yes, and if we book early we might get a discount... Yes, and we could organize carpools to make transportation easier..." This approach creates momentum and possibility rather than obstacles. The third principle is making your partner look good. In improv theater, performers understand that helping their scene partners succeed makes the entire performance better. This aligns with what negotiation expert Roger Fisher called "principled negotiation" and what Stephen Covey described as "thinking win-win." By abandoning zero-sum thinking where one person's victory requires another's defeat, we create more value for everyone. In one exercise, Salit pairs participants to debate controversial topics, but with a twist: one person can respond only with questions. This forces deeper listening and transforms what might become argumentative into something exploratory. The exercise reveals how questions change the nature of interaction – from wrestling match to dance – creating space for genuine dialogue. The principles of improvisation aren't just theater techniques; they're practical tools for navigating an unpredictable world. By hearing offers, embracing "Yes and," and making others look good, we transform rigid transactions into fluid collaborations. In the process, we discover solutions neither party could have anticipated alone. As Fuller Brush founder Alfred Fuller wisely noted long before improv became popular: "Never argue. To win an argument is to lose a sale." True influence requires not conquering others but creating with them.

Chapter 7: Serve: Make It Personal and Purposeful

Kenya has one of the world's highest rates of traffic fatalities, with young matatu (minibus) drivers notorious for reckless behavior. When Georgetown economists James Habyarimana and William Jack sought to reduce these deaths, they tried an unconventional approach. Instead of more speed limits or police enforcement, they placed stickers inside 2,276 matatus that encouraged passengers to speak up when drivers operated dangerously. The results were remarkable: insurance claims for vehicles with stickers fell by nearly two-thirds, and serious accidents decreased by more than 50%. What made this intervention so successful? The economists transformed an abstract problem (national road safety) into something personal and purposeful. The stickers empowered individual passengers to influence their specific driver for their own safety. This story illuminates the third essential skill for moving others: the ability to serve – to improve others' lives and, in turn, improve the world. The personal dimension of service becomes clear through Israeli radiologist Yehonatan Turner's innovative experiment. Radiologists typically work in isolation, reviewing scans without meeting the patients behind them. Turner arranged for CT scan images to include photographs of the patients themselves. The impact was profound: radiologists reported feeling more empathy and being more meticulous in their examinations. When the same scans were presented three months later without the photographs, 80% of previously identified incidental findings (abnormalities unrelated to the primary diagnosis) went unreported. Simply seeing the human being behind the medical image transformed the quality of care. Restaurant owner Giuseppe Farruggio demonstrates another aspect of making it personal. At his Washington, DC pizzeria, a framed sign tells customers: "If you're not satisfied with anything, please call my cell phone" – followed by his actual number. In eighteen months, only eight people called (six with praise, two with complaints), but that wasn't the point. The sign communicates something profound: there's a real person behind this business who genuinely cares about your experience. By putting his personal reputation on the line, Farruggio transforms a simple commercial transaction into a human relationship. Making service purposeful is equally powerful. Adam Grant's research in a hospital revealed that signs promoting hand hygiene were significantly more effective when they emphasized protecting patients ("Hand hygiene prevents patients from catching diseases") rather than protecting the healthcare workers themselves ("Hand hygiene prevents you from catching diseases"). Similar studies show that call center workers who read stories about how their fundraising helped scholarship recipients doubled their productivity compared to those who read about how the job would benefit their own careers. These findings challenge conventional wisdom about human motivation. While we often assume people act primarily from self-interest, research consistently shows that "prosocial" or "self-transcending" motives are equally powerful. We're deeply motivated by the opportunity to contribute to something larger than ourselves – to serve a purpose that benefits others. Robert Greenleaf, who launched the "servant leadership" movement in 1970, captured this principle perfectly: "The servant-leader is servant first... Do those served grow as persons? Do they, while being served, become healthier, wiser, freer, more autonomous, more likely themselves to become servants?" This approach, once considered radical, has been embraced by organizations from Starbucks to Southwest Airlines. The same philosophy applies to moving others. Whether selling products, ideas, or commitments, the ultimate test isn't "Did I get what I wanted?" but "Did this interaction leave both parties better off?" When we approach influence with the mindset of service – making it personal and purposeful – we transcend mere transactions to create genuine transformation. And in doing so, we honor what makes us most human: our desire to connect with others and contribute to their wellbeing.

Summary

At its core, To Sell Is Human transforms how we understand the act of moving others. Through stories ranging from the last Fuller Brush Man to cutting-edge neuroscience, Pink reveals that selling isn't a specialized function performed by a few professional persuaders but a fundamental human capability we all exercise daily. When a teacher inspires students to tackle challenging material, when a doctor convinces a patient to follow treatment, when a parent persuades a child to try new foods – all are engaged in moving others. What's changed isn't whether we sell but how we sell, as information asymmetry gives way to transparency and honesty becomes not just virtuous but necessary. The most powerful insight throughout this journey is that effective persuasion paradoxically requires reducing our power rather than increasing it. By lowering our status to better understand others' perspectives, by asking questions instead of making declarations, by serving rather than manipulating, we actually enhance our ability to move others. This turns traditional views of influence upside down. The path to moving others doesn't run through aggressive tactics or slick presentations but through attunement to others' needs, buoyancy in the face of rejection, and clarity in helping people see situations in new ways. Perhaps most encouraging is that these qualities aren't fixed traits but learnable skills – abilities we can cultivate through practice and awareness. In a world increasingly defined by connection rather than coercion, the future belongs to those who can move others not through manipulation but through meaning, not through domination but through service. The art of sales, it turns out, is fundamentally the art of being human.

About Author

Loading...

Daniel H. Pink

Read more

Related Books by Daniel H. Pink

Loading...

The Power of Regret

Daniel H. Pink

How Looking Backward Moves us Forward

★★★★½4.6

Loading...

Drive

Daniel H. Pink

The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us

★★★★½4.5

Loading...

When

Daniel H. Pink

The Scientific Secrets of Perfect Timing

★★★½☆3.8

Loading...

A Whole New Mind

Daniel H. Pink

Why Right-Brainers Will Rule the Future

★★★½☆3.9