The Power of the Guaranteed Negative Response
by Jamie Wilson

Not long ago, I was in a bar watching a friend's band when a woman I had never met took me by the hand. Lifting it for a better look, presumably at my wedding ring, she said, "I couldn't help but noticing you're married."

We started talking and she was so friendly, so attentive to what I had to say, and so uncommonly tickled by my jokes that I became suspicious.

Was it the ring? Was this seemingly normal girl, and not unattractive, driven to distraction by a shining token of my commitment to someone else? Stranger still was that I was with three reasonably good-looking unmarried friends — true, they spent the evening ogling every woman in the place, commenting loudly to one another about which parts of this one they liked, which parts of that one were not so nice, drooling into their beers. But still ...

Maybe that was it; maybe she liked me because she knew I'd already been trained. Another woman had done all the work and along comes this opportunist to collect the spoils, a sort of cuckoo bird of the dating world.

Not likely though. I think she felt the confident power of the guaranteed negative response. She knew she could talk with me, flirt with me, hold my hand and look at my ring, get away with saying anything she wanted because nothing was going to come of it.

And she did. She told me I was cute; that never happened before I was married. Then she said, "but you're probably just an asshole." Then she walked away. I didn't say anything. (Married guys don't exchange insults with anyone but their wives. She probably knew that, too.)

I doubt she was all that interested in me, anyway. She was just having fun, flirting, feeling attractive, putting someone down. We all do it and it feels good, especially when you don't really need it. That's the power of the guaranteed negative response. It's an important lesson, and those that learn it have a leg up on the rest of us.

No kidding, give it a try. Next time you're in a social situation, pick someone. In fact, pick the most stunningly beautiful person in the place. Challenge yourself. Make sure to pick someone who is visibly not available. Look for a wedding ring, or some hand holding. Better yet, be unavailable yourself. Be married; have kids, a mistress, whatever it takes.

Strike up a conversation. You'll be charming, cute, unassuming, confident; your jokes will be funnier, your comments more insightful. You will feel free to sweep this person off their feet because you're resting easily in the knowledge that you don't have a chance of leaving the bar with them.

Pursuing the guaranteed negative response, or better yet, the non-response, works outside the bar as well. It's a nearly fool-proof technique in a job interview, when asking your boss for a raise or in any of your day-to-day negotiations with the improbable and even the impossible.

It was most likely the guiding principal behind the presidential campaigns of both John McCain and Ralph Nader. Did they stand a chance at winning the White House? No way. Were they by far the most confident guys on the campaign trail? You bet. In fact, American third party politics is largely a testament to the appeal of the guaranteed negative response.

Or take Pat Buchanan. Even his most die-hard supporters would have to admit that the realistic implications of a Buchanan presidency are frightening. But Buchanan has made a career banking on the masses of people attracted to his hair-brained schemes, like building a wall between Mexico and the United States. Once he has the attention of these people, he can open a forum for the rest of his political thoughts. That's fine, but actually build a wall? Yet millions vote for these candidates and the appeal comes from their devil-may-care attitude, a product of the guaranteed negative response. It's like rooting for the Detroit Lions or the Cincinnati Bengals.

After my recent episode, I decided I might try for the guaranteed negative response myself. I'm considering asking my boss for a company car. If he says no, which he undoubtedly will (as our company doesn't have cars), maybe I'll quit. I've already sent my résumé to NASA. I've always wanted to see what outer space is like. And if some know-it-all NASA scientist type laughs me out of the room during my interview, I'll just call him an asshole. After all, I never really wanted to be an astronaut anyway.

E-mail Jamie Wilson at jgreerw at hotmail dot com.