Strip away the prime-time drama from Barry’s characters and you have a screenplay that might feature your family, your friends, or your workplace. Someone is keeping a secret. Someone is plotting. Someone isn’t telling you what you need to know. If you can use bridging questions in the right way, you can get people to talk, draw them out, and get a picture of the path they are traveling. Step one is to ratchet down the tension.
Barry adheres to a psychological theory, developed by Nobel Prize–winning psychologist Daniel Kahneman, that posits two “systems” in which the human brain operates. System One is a sort of low gear; it goes anywhere and allows us to make decisions easily and come up with ready answers. Consider it your brain’s autopilot. It goes on when your surroundings and reference points are familiar. If someone asks you what’s two plus two, you answer “four” automatically, without effort. It takes no effort to come up with the answer. In System One, which Kahneman calls “cognitive ease,” we feel relaxed, comfortable, and in control. A questioner might put someone in System One by asking about the weather or an article of clothing, or even by offering a cup of coffee. A warm and familiar gesture, the coffee becomes a reassuring prop.
System Two triggers the brain’s overdrive, making it spin faster, work harder, and use more oxygen. System Two is a response to the unfamiliar, the complex, the difficult or frightening. A tough math problem or contentious situation can put us in this state. You stop, react, scramble for a response.
A brain in System Two is on alert, with its guard up. Unfamiliar or unfriendly surroundings can shift the mind into this gear. We begin watching every word we say. What’s four hundred thirty-five divided by nine? Did you take my bottle of gin?
System Two is likely the state your teen is in if he thinks you are accusing or judging him. It’s the state you are in if your boss gives you a harsh performance review. It’s how just about every suspect is reacting during questioning.
Barry teaches agents how to put their subjects’ brains in System One, into low gear, as much as possible. He tells his students to start with questions the interviewee is comfortable addressing, even if the questions are not relevant to the issue at hand. Ask about a common experience or a part of the interviewee’s life that is known and not controversial.
Suppose an agent is paying a visit to Joseph, whose name surfaced in an investigation. For now, Joseph is being treated as a source, not a suspect. Walking into the living room, the agent notices a piece of art on the wall.
Nice painting, who did that?
Assuming the agent is not there to talk about art theft, the question may serve as an icebreaker—an acknowledgment, even a compliment. The focus on the art lets Joseph speak about something familiar, on his own turf. The agent should listen closely, Barry counsels, and if she hears Joseph open up, she should ask some more about the painting to generate a few minutes of easy conversation, to move Joseph’s brain back to cognitive ease.
Those of us who aren’t federal agents use this method in conversation, consciously or not. We use icebreakers to introduce ourselves, to establish a rapport, to launch conversation with interesting small talk.
Imagine that you’re a manager in an insurance firm. Anna, one of your employees, comes to your office for her annual review. A couple of coworkers have complained about disparaging remarks she has made behind people’s backs. You want her to stop, but you need to know what she’s got on her mind in case it points to a deeper problem. She’s on guard. You recall seeing a new computer on her desk. You ask:
How’s the new computer working out?
“It’s really fast,” she says. “This one doesn’t crash. And it’s about time. That upgrade was long overdue.”
It’s not much, but you’ve got Anna talking.
“That’s great,” you say. “Don’t you love that touch screen?” You can see Anna’s shoulders release from their defensive shrug. She’s not exactly happy to be with you, but at least you’ve established that she likes her new computer.
You’re busy, and you need to move Anna toward the issue that has come to your attention. But take your time, Barry advises. Don’t kick her into System Two with direct questions just yet. Stay with the computer angle for a minute.
How did you decide on that computer?
This question is intended to evoke a different kind of answer. “How” questions ask for explanation and background. They encourage stories. Barry tells his FBI and Secret Service students to understand that the human brain is wired for stories. It’s how we learn and how we remember. It’s how we engage and pass along our experience and our history. Cave paintings were stories. The Bible and the Quran and the Torah tell stories. We put our kids to bed telling stories. Alibis and confessions are stories.
If Barry were Anna’s boss, he would play off her comments and ask:
Do most people choose that computer? Is it a popular choice?
He is listening hard for “entry points” to turn the conversation with Anna to the story he wants to hear.
Yes, she might say, most people select that model. She read extensively about her computer before choosing it. That’s how she does all her work, thoroughly and diligently. Here’s where her story offers an entry point.
“I use my computer differently,” she says. “That’s what makes me more effective in my work. More than Al up in accounts payable who has the other model.”
Anna is now “differentiating” herself, Barry explains. By comparing herself to Al in accounts payable, Anna is offering a clue that an astute questioner can pick up on. Something sets her apart. This provides an entry point. Barry would ask about that.
Really? What’s going on with Al?
Anna might start to describe how her coworker handled a situation recently and how other people weighed in and what happened. As she tells the story, she provides more entry points, more opportunities to ask.
Catching the entry points requires focused listening to form follow-up questions that move the story along and elicit details. You can recognize an entry point by actively listening for an observation or a complaint that resonates with the story you’re after. A flash of anger or an expression of regret can be an entry point. Use it to your advantage. In essence, you are conducting a sort of interrogational game of chess, hearing answers, forming questions, but thinking several moves ahead. So you ask strategically. You know where you want the conversation to go, but you need your opponent to make the moves that get there. Your questions are only as good as the answers they provoke.
Affirm and Acknowledge
To keep his subjects talking, on track, and in System One, Barry uses periodic “micro-affirmations.” When he hears something relevant or that he wants to learn more about, he signals his interest in almost imperceptible movements, gestures, or sounds. He might lean forward and offer a slight nod or a barely audible “uh-huh.” These micro-affirmations reinforce without interrupting or distracting. They signal that Barry is engaged and sympathetic. “One of the things we keep in mind,” Barry says, “is that people who are angry rarely find others who listen.” A questioner who listens provides a welcome refuge.
As the conversation unwinds, Barry also offers “rewards” or a brief acknowledgement. “That’s really interesting,” he will say. “I hadn’t thought about it that way,” or “That’s a good point.” Citing neuroscience research and his own experience, Barry told me that when you give people something, they are inclined to give something back. “I try to give them words back that make them feel that I am really appreciative of their intellect or their insight or whatever they need to hear. That will be the reward.”