• The political and social spheres can be so divisive that you might feel yourself buffeted by well-practised persuasive techniques

  • Peter Lamont explores the value of taking the time to think critically about our thoughts, feelings, impressions and desires


Psychologists have described all manner of ways in which we can be persuaded. At the start of the twentieth century, persuasion was seen in terms of ‘suggestion’, which meant all sorts of things. The so-called ‘laws of suggestion’, like the ‘seven propaganda devices’, were merely a few common themes. However, they made different themes relevant. Make it positive or use bad names. Be an authority or one of the people. Make it clear or keep it vague. All of these can work, depending on the context.

We can be persuaded by a positive message and by negative name-calling, by someone who is an authority and by someone who seems to be one of us. We can be persuaded by hearing a clear message, so clear and simple that it’s extremely vague. We can do this. Yes, we can. But whether it works will depend on the message, on what it means in a given situation, on who is saying it and whether we trust them, and on what we already believe and want.

The psychology of persuasion makes certain themes relevant, depending on the context. In the world of sales and advertising, for example, there have long been six or seven ‘principles of persuasion’. According to the principle of ‘reciprocation’, we’re more likely to say ‘yes’ when we feel indebted to someone. So, we’re offered free samples or advice to encourage us to buy further products or services.

According to the principle of ‘scarcity’, we value things that are in limited supply. So, when we book a hotel online, we’re told to grab a deal ‘before it’s too late’ and that there are ‘only two rooms left!’ These are persuasive in the context of sales, but they’re very different from the ‘laws of suggestion’ and the ‘seven common propaganda devices’.

There are, of course, some common themes. For example, there’s the principle of ‘social proof ’ (we tend to do what others do). This is rather like the ‘bandwagon’ device (present your position as popular so that others want to follow the crowd). There are also the principles of ‘liking’ (we tend to agree with someone we like) and ‘unity’ (we tend to agree with someone we consider to be one of us). 

The latter, in particular, is rather like the ‘plain folks’ device (appear to be like one of the people). There’s also the principle of ‘authority’ (we tend to believe authorities). This was one of the ‘laws of suggestion’. It overlaps with the ‘testimonial’ device (if the testimonial is from a source of authority) and with the ‘transfer’ device (if the audience reveres authorities). 

However, we live in a world in which experts are increasingly being denounced. Who, now, are the authorities? Whose testimonials are now persuasive? Which institutions are now revered? Which crowd, of all the crowds that are available, are we inclined to follow? Who is, and why are they, likeable? 

After all, there have been leaders who are both loved and hated, yet this has worked out in their favour. They’ve been loved by the people who love them, in part, because they’ve claimed to be hated by others. When they’ve been called bad names, accused of indulging in glittering generalities, denounced by revered institutions and in the testimonials of others, accused of being privileged (not plain folks) and of exaggerating, concealing and distorting the facts, they’ve continued to be followed by their crowd. The more they’ve been hated, the more they’ve been loved, because all the facts have been interpreted in line with their side of the argument. When we see the world in terms of goodies and baddies, we no longer think for ourselves.

There is, of course, nothing new about this. But how it’s done depends on the context, which makes certain things relevant. In the 1930s, the power of propaganda to persuade the public by exaggerating, concealing and distorting the facts, by calling certain people bad names, by appealing to certain revered institutions (for example, the greatness of ‘the nation’) and certain experts (who provided testimonials), by appealing to certain plain folks (but not all of them), and to certain vague generalities, people could be persuaded to believe the most extraordinary and dangerous things.

‘The purpose of propaganda’, according to one influential book of the time, was ‘to attract public attention to certain things ... to create a general conviction regarding the reality of a certain fact [and of] the necessity of certain things’. It avoided alternative perspectives by presenting ‘a systematically one-sided attitude’. And, of course, ‘effective propaganda ... should be persistently repeated’. The book was called Mein Kampf.

The same techniques continue to work because they’re far from obvious. They’re not obvious because they’re used in particular ways: to appeal to certain people who notice, believe and want different things. They work, in different ways, in education, in advertising and sales, and in propaganda. In other words, there are endless ways in which we can be persuaded. 

Nevertheless, psychologists now often categorise them into two kinds. According to ‘dual process’ models, there are two routes to being persuaded. One relies on mental shortcuts (for example, we believe someone who seems credible). The other is based on the quality of the argument (for example, logic and evidence). Unless we’re able and willing to do so, we rely on mental shortcuts rather than on logic and evidence. This is in line with the general view that we think in one of two ways: we think in ‘implicit’ and ‘explicit’ ways (which are, respectively, ‘fast’ and ‘slow’). 

In short, in terms of critical thinking, we need to take it slowly. We need to make it explicit. If we take the time to consider a claim – the logic that it follows, the evidence in support of it, the plausibility of the claim, and the reliability of the source – then we can assess it better. These are rules, of a kind, like the ‘laws of suggestion’ or the ‘seven propaganda devices’. They may be true but, like all rules, they’re abstract. They need to be applied in a particular context. Is this logical? Does the evidence support that? Is this a reliable source for that? If we wish to think in a more critical way, even when we’re dealing with logic and evidence, we need to think about context.

Our thoughts are shaped by what others tell us. As they tell us about things, they appeal to the facts, but only some of them, and present them in a particular way. They present themselves as reliable sources. They present what they say as plausible. They make it relevant. They make it appealing. Depending on the context, there are countless ways in which they might do this. And, depending on the context, they may have different objectives in mind. So, we need to remember our limits. When something is consistent with our own beliefs, we find it more plausible. However, we can consider alternative perspectives. We’re also drawn to what we think is relevant and what we find appealing. That’s why, when others try to persuade us, they make what they say seem relevant and appealing. At the end of the day, though, it’s still up to us.

The power of suggestion depends on attention. We can decide what we think is relevant. The tools of persuasion are aimed at the audience. They’re directed to what appeals to us. They may rely on logic and evidence, but they also appeal to our emotions and desires. They try to convince us that this will make us feel better and that this is what we want. And some things, depending on how we feel and what we want, are easier to believe. However, it’s still up to us: it depends on how we feel and what we want.

We can be directed by logic and evidence, or by appeals to our emotions and desires. In the real world, all of these are relevant. However, in terms of our emotions and desires, we can think about them in a more critical way. We can make them explicit. How we feel. What we want. These are also things that shape our thoughts.

Peter Lamont is the author of Radical Thinking: How to See the Bigger Picture


Further reading

When it comes to crime, is it always good to talk?

What are your blind spots?

Understanding paranoia and extreme mistrust

What story are you telling yourself?

Romance fraud and sextortion: The impact on victims