When legendary primatologist Jane Goodall passed away at 91 earlier this month, many memorials focused on her outsize contributions to science and conservation. They noted how her work studying chimps upended our ideas about humans’ place in the animal kingdom, and they hailed her relentless advocacy for the natural world.
Such celebrations of an extraordinary life were certainly well-earned. But as I read about Goodall’s work, it struck me she wasn’t just an incredible conservationist. She was also an incredible communicator.
People’s enthusiasm for environmentalism varies, to put it mildly. But despite her spending decades deep in the trenches of often polarizing issues, it’s hard to find many people with a harsh word for Goodall. The more I learned about her, the more it became clear why.
Psychologists have investigated in depth what it takes to engage with and actually persuade those who disagree with you. Goodall’s work is the perfect model of what they’ve discovered.
That makes a deeper look at her communication style worthwhile, not just for those interested in the health of planet earth, but for anyone hoping to talk constructively across difference. Which, in today’s world, is basically all of us.
Goodall meets a cranky taxi driver
In 2021, Jane Goodall gave an interview to GQ to promote a tree planting initiative she’d just launched, at 87. It’s a testament to her vigor deep into her ninth decade. (She’s been held up as a model for healthy aging as well.) It also contains a simple anecdote that captures her communication style.
“I was once in a taxi and it was very early in the morning. I was on my way to the U.S. and I was driving out to Heathrow and I thought, ‘I’ll have a nice little snooze,’” she tells GQ’s Gabriella Paiella.
Her nap, alas, was not to be. The cab driver recognized Goodall and had a bone to pick with her. “You’re all like my sister, I haven’t got time for the likes of you. You care more about animals than people,” he complained. “He went on and on,” Goodall recalled.
Most of us are not at our most patient and fair-minded during early morning trips to the airport. So Goodall could have been forgiven for being brusque. But that’s not how she responded.
“I sat and talked to him through the little window, told him stories about the chimps, told him how our programs in Africa were improving the lives of the people, helping girls to stay in school, better clinics, better education,” she says.
It didn’t seem to make much difference. “Oh, he was grumpy. Didn’t care,” she remembers.
When Goodall went to get out of the cab, the driver didn’t have the correct change for her. She told him to keep the extra cash and donate it to his sister to help with her work on behalf of animals.
“I thought, ‘Ah, well, you’ll go and drink it in the pub and tell people about this crazy woman you talked to,’” Goodall said. But instead, a little while later she got a letter from the sister thanking her for the donation and asking how Goodall had changed her brother’s mind. Since that cab ride, he’d shown a newfound enthusiasm for her cause, even volunteering to help her on a couple of occasions.
A story is worth a thousand facts
You could take this charming story as proof of Goodall’s personal charisma, and that’s partially correct. But Goodall offered the tale as an example of her approach to persuasion. How do you get people who disagree with you to see things from your perspective?
“By talking to people as individuals, by presenting facts fairly, by not blaming, by telling the sort of stories that people remember,” Goodall responds. “Just tell people stories, try and find out who they are, try and find something that links you with them.”
It’s a plainspoken answer that encapsulates a whole lot of psychological research. For instance, when confronted with opinions we view as wrong or incorrect, the first impulse of many of us is to offer corrective facts. But that doesn’t work.
As behavioral scientist Gleb Tsipursky has written, “research on a phenomenon called the backfire effect shows we tend to dig in our heels when we are presented with facts that cause us to feel bad about our identity, self-worth, worldview, or group belonging.”
Goodall doesn’t make the mistake of bombarding the hostile cabby with facts and figures. Instead, she uses stories to make her point. Neuroscience insists this is a jujitsu move for persuasion. Stories, they explain, light up our brains in ways statistics don’t. That only makes them naturally more memorable, but also more likely to elicit empathy. And that human feeling helps break down barriers and open minds to new viewpoints.
“Oxytocin is produced when we are trusted or shown a kindness, and it motivates cooperation with others,” Paul J. Zak, the founding director of the Center for Neuroeconomics Studies at Claremont Graduate University, explained on HBR. Stories “consistently cause oxytocin synthesis.”
First respect, and then persuasion
Not only did Goodall employ stories to smuggle in her message. She used another psychology-endorsed trick, too. When you want to persuade someone, she says, you should “try and find out who they are.”
This insight, too, is backed by research. Stanford researchers recently found that just asking a person you are trying to persuade, “I was interested in what you’re saying. Can you tell me more about how come you think that?” radically improved the other’s party’s willingness to engage and consider other viewpoints.
When we signal to others that we are genuinely open to their viewpoint and its origins, we communicate respect. And when people feel respected, they’re less defensive and more willing to change their minds. If you convince someone you won’t make them feel small for being wrong, they’re unsurprisingly more willing to consider changing their mind.
Jane Goodall’s other legacy
Which is just what Goodall patiently did with her combative cabbie. Rather than sighing, rolling her eyes, or getting on her high horse, she talked to him as an individual. She honored his humanity and he repaid her respect with respect of his own.
Jane Goodall taught the world a lot about chimpanzees. But she also taught us all valuable lessons about how to win a debate. It starts with not approaching it as a debate at all, but as an exchange between curious equals. Both Goodall’s amazing life and a whole lot of psychology suggest that makes all the difference when you hope to nudge people to think differently.
The opinions expressed here by Inc.com columnists are their own, not those of Inc.com.
Jessica Stillman
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