This leads me to a final thought: when you’re in a restaurant with a date, for heaven’s sake don’t mention the price of the selections. Yes, they’re printed clearly on the menu. Yes, this might be an opportunity to impress your date with the caliber of the restaurant. But if you rub it in, you’ll be likely to shift your relationship from the social to the market norm. Yes, your date may fail to recognize how much this meal is setting you back. Yes, your mother-in-law may assume that the bottle of wine you’ve presented is a $10 blend, when it’s a $60 special reserve merlot. That’s the price you have to pay, though, to keep your relationships in the social domain and away from market norms.
SO WE LIVE in two worlds: one characterized by social exchanges and the other characterized by market exchanges. And we apply different norms to these two kinds of relationships. Moreover, introducing market norms into social exchanges, as we have seen, violates the social norms and hurts the relationships. Once this type of mistake has been committed, recovering a social relationship is difficult. Once you’ve offered to pay for the delightful Thanksgiving dinner, your mother-in-law will remember the incident for years to come. And if you’ve ever offered a potential romantic partner the chance to cut to the chase, split the cost of the courting process, and simply go to bed, the odds are that you will have wrecked the romance forever.
My good friends Uri Gneezy (a professor at the University of California at San Diego) and Aldo Rustichini (a professor at the University of Minnesota) provided a very clever test of the long-term effects of a switch from social to market norms.
A few years ago, they studied a day care center in Israel to determine whether imposing a fine on parents who arrived late to pick up their children was a useful deterrent. Uri and Aldo concluded that the fine didn’t work well, and in fact it had long-term negative effects. Why? Before the fine was introduced, the teachers and parents had a social contract, with social norms about being late. Thus, if parents were late—as they occasionally were—they felt guilty about it—and their guilt compelled them to be more prompt in picking up their kids in the future. (In Israel, guilt seems to be an effective way to get compliance.) But once the fine was imposed, the day care center had inadvertently replaced the social norms with market norms. Now that the parents were paying for their tardiness, they interpreted the situation in terms of market norms. In other words, since they were being fined, they could decide for themselves whether to be late or not, and they frequently chose to be late. Needless to say, this was not what the day care center intended.
BUT THE REAL story only started here. The most interesting part occurred a few weeks later, when the day care center removed the fine. Now the center was back to the social norm. Would the parents also return to the social norm? Would their guilt return as well? Not at all. Once the fine was removed, the behavior of the parents didn’t change. They continued to pick up their kids late. In fact, when the fine was removed, there was a slight increase in the number of tardy pickups (after all, both the social norms and the fine had been removed).
This experiment illustrates an unfortunate fact: when a social norm collides with a market norm, the social norm goes away for a long time. In other words, social relationships are not easy to reestablish. Once the bloom is off the rose—once a social norm is trumped by a market norm—it will rarely return.
THE FACT THAT we live in both the social world and the market world has many implications for our personal lives. From time to time, we all need someone to help us move something, or to watch our kids for a few hours, or to take in our mail when we’re out of town. What’s the best way to motivate our friends and neighbors to help us? Would cash do it—a gift, perhaps? How much? Or nothing at all? This social dance, as I’m sure you know, isn’t easy to figure out—especially when there’s a risk of pushing a relationship into the realm of a market exchange.
Here are some answers. Asking a friend to help move a large piece of furniture or a few boxes is fine. But asking a friend to help move a lot of boxes or furniture is not—especially if the friend is working side by side with movers who are getting paid for the same task. In this case, your friend might begin to feel that he’s being used. Similarly, asking your neighbor (who happens to be a lawyer) to bring in your mail while you’re on vacation is fine. But asking him to spend the same amount of time preparing a rental contract for you—free—is not.
THE DELICATE BALANCE between social and market norms is also evident in the business world. In the last few decades companies have tried to market themselves as social companions—that is, they’d like us to think that they and we are family, or at least are friends who live on the same cul-de-sac. “Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there” is one familiar slogan. Another is Home Depot’s gentle urging: “You can do it. We can help.”
Whoever started the movement to treat customers socially had a great idea. If customers and a company are family, then the company gets several benefits. Loyalty is paramount. Minor infractions—screwing up your bill and even imposing a modest hike in your insurance rates—are accommodated. Relationships of course have ups and downs, but overall they’re a pretty good thing.
But here’s what I find strange: although companies have poured billions of dollars into marketing and advertising to create social relationships—or at least an impression of social relationships—they don’t seem to understand the nature of a social relationship, and in particular its risks.
For example, what happens when a customer’s check bounces? If the relationship is based on market norms, the bank charges a fee, and the customer shakes it off. Business is business. While the fee is annoying, it’s nonetheless acceptable. In a social relationship, however, a hefty late fee—rather than a friendly call from the manager or an automatic fee waiver—is not only a relationship-killer; it’s a stab in the back. Consumers will take personal offense. They’ll leave the bank angry and spend hours complaining to their friends about this awful bank. After all, this was a relationship framed as a social exchange. No matter how many cookies, slogans, and tokens of friendship a bank provides, one violation of the social exchange means that the consumer is back to the market exchange. It can happen that quickly.
What’s the upshot? If you’re a company, my advice is to remember that you can’t have it both ways. You can’t treat your customers like family one moment and then treat them impersonally—or, even worse, as a nuisance or a competitor—a moment later when this becomes more convenient or profitable. This is not how social relationships work. If you want a social relationship, go for it, but remember that you have to maintain it under all circumstances.
On the other hand, if you think you may have to play tough from time to time—charging extra for additional services or rapping knuckles swiftly to keep the consumers in line—you might not want to waste money in the first place on making your company the fuzzy feel-good choice. In that case, stick to a simple value proposition: state what you give and what you expect in return. Since you’re not setting up any social norms or expectations, you also can’t violate any—after all, it’s just business.
COMPANIES HAVE ALSO tried to establish social norms with their employees. It wasn’t always this way. Years ago, the workforce of America was more of an industrial, market-driven exchange. Back then it was often a nine-to-five, time-clock kind of mentality. You put in your 40 hours and you got your paycheck on Friday. Since workers were paid by the hour, they knew exactly when they were working for the man, and when they weren’t. The factory whistle blew (or the corporate equivalent took place), and the transaction was finished. This was a clear market exchange, and it worked adequately for both sides.
Today companies see an advantage in creating a social exchange. After all, in today’s market we’re the makers of intangibles. Creativity counts more than industrial machines. The partition between work and leisure has likewise blurred. The people who run the workplace want us to think about work while we’re driving home and while we’re in the shower. They’ve given us laptops, cell phones, and BlackBerries to bridge the gap between the workplace and home.
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