One of my favourite books on negotiation is Herb Cohen's - "You Can Negotiate Anything". Herb talks about the three crucial elements in a negotiation are Power, Information and Time.  In this amusing excerpt from the book Herb tells of how "time" was used against him in his first overseas negotiation when his boss sent him to Japan.

 

I was overjoyed. In my exhilaration, I told myself, "This is my moment! Destiny calls! I'll wipe out the Japanese, then move on to the rest of the international community."

 

One week later I was on a plane en route to Tokyo for the fourteen-day negotiation. I'd taken along all these books on the Japanese mentality, their psychology. I kept telling myself, "I'm really going to do well."

 

When the plane landed in Tokyo, I was the first passenger to trot down the ramp, raring to go. At the bottom of the ramp two Japanese gentlemen awaited me, bowing politely. I liked that.

 

The two Japanese helped me through customs, then escorted me to a large limousine. I reclined comfortably on the plush seat at the rear of the limousine, and they sat stiffly on two fold-up stools. I said expansively, "Why don't you people, join me? There's plenty of room back here."

 

They replied, "Oh, no-you're an important person. You obviously need your rest." I liked that, too.

 

As the limousine rolled along, one of my hosts asked, "By the way, do you know the language?"

 

I replied, "You mean Japanese?"

 

He said, "Right-that's what we speak in Japan"

 

I said, "Well, no, but I hope to learn a few expressions. I've brought a dictionary with me."

His companion asked, "Are you concerned about getting back to your plane on time?" (Up to that moment I had not been concerned.) "We can schedule this limousine to transport you back to the airport."

 

I thought to myself, "How considerate." Reaching into my pocket, I handed them my return flight ticket, so the limousine would know when to get me. I didn't realise it then, but they knew my deadline, whereas I didn't know theirs.

 

Instead of beginning negotiations right away, they first had me experience Japanese hospitality and culture. For more than a week I toured the country from the Imperial Palace to the shrines of Kyoto. They even enrolled me in an English-language course in Zen to study their religion.

 

Every evening for four and a half hours, they had me sit on a cushion on a hardwood floor for a traditional dinner and .entertainment. Can you imagine what it's like sitting on a hardwood floor for all those hours? If I didn't get haemorrhoids as a result, I'll probably never get them. Whenever I inquired about the start of negotiations, they'd murmur, "Plenty of time! Plenty of time!"

 

At last, on the twelfth day, we began the negotiations, finishing early so we could play golf. On the thirteenth day, we began again, and ended early because of the farewell dinner. Finally, on the morning of the fourteenth day, we resumed our negotiating in earnest. Just as we were getting to the crux of things, the limousine pulled up to take me to the airport. We all piled in and continued hashing out the terms. Just as the limousine's brakes were applied at the terminal, we consummated the deal.

 

How well do you think I did in that negotiation? For many years my superiors referred to it as "The first great Japanese victory since Pearl Harbour."

 

Why did the debacle occur? Because my hosts knew my deadline and I didn't know theirs. They held off making concessions, correctly anticipating that I wouldn't allow myself to go home empty handed. Furthermore, the impatience that I undoubtedly displayed conveyed my belief that this departure deadline was somehow sacred. As if this would be the last plane to leave Tokyo for all time.

 

Even the most experienced negotiators occasionally fall for a similar ploy.