Once upon a time, I met a Nigerian Prince. He didn’t woo me, climb up my hair, or wake me up from a long slumber with a kiss. He outsmarted me. Effortlessly.
He asked my neighbor in Chicago, Nigella, to send him $2000 in an internet scam. I tried to convince her not to. I couldn’t. She parted with the dough and never again heard from the prince. His charming anonymous email beat my presence, proof, and logic. It was far from a fairytale ending.
To cope with my ‘loss’, I delved into understanding how he outwitted me. The disparity in our approaches became clear. I bombarded Nigella with facts, while he spun an intriguing tale. I countered her doubts with arguments, while he focused on building a connection. I shared cautionary tales of others falling for the scam, but he tapped into her beliefs.
At a later time and place, my boss, several ranks above me, confronted me, saying he couldn't grasp the content of my email. He said this to my face. In the moment, the kindness of his feedback was lost on me, and it was easier to dismiss him and his comments. My heart raced. My thoughts raced. My body wanted to flee the situation. How could I possibly be receiving this feedback? Nobody had said this before - not about my emails or anything I wrote in business school. People asked me to help them write. But before I could question his credibility, he gave me another chance to communicate. But there was a catch - I had to do it in one sentence.
Seeking to impress rather than confuse, I accepted the challenge, aware that his feedback could shape my consulting career. The timer began, and Mic asked me for a sentence that would make my email clear and meaningful. I paused, gathering my thoughts. Though it felt like an eternity, I barely noticed him blink as he patiently awaited my response. Finally, I provided "his" sentence. And after what felt like another eternity, he nodded, commended my effort, and proceeded to distribute next steps to the team based on what I had just conveyed.
I had crafted an excessively long, jargon-laden email that only confused and hindered my boss. However, it was that single sentence I wrote that inspired him to take swift action and make decisions with agility. I couldn't believe it. Same person, two completely different outcomes. Then it hit me, it was the Nigella argument all over again. But this time, I played myself (with the initial email) and the Prince (with my second try) - and won. The first email presented facts, figures, steps, and logic. In contrast, my second attempt provided Mic with the information he needed to excel at his job.
I asked myself how my words stalled, diverted, or even blocked my desired outcomes. How many opportunities had I miscommunicated myself out of. I thought of the endless email threads, unsolved problems, and past grades and wondered if the cumulative effect of ineffective conversations had negated my professional trajectory.
Now, as a time-starved leader, I find myself playing the role, my boss - Mic, played for me, often. More often than I’d like. These days, the deluge of emails leaves no room for confusion. It's overwhelming and makes decision-making nearly impossible as I constantly seek clarity through back-and-forth exchanges. Every day, I give that same second chance Mic gave me to my team. That second chance triggered my epiphany, and I can only hope I can pass that along. The results aren't always apparent, but then again, it's not my epiphany this time. Mic and the Nigerian Prince didn’t convince me, they influenced me, and I convinced myself. And that influence still resonates within me, nearly 20 years later, better than any argument ever could. Funny how my most memorable encounter with a Nigerian Prince didn’t cost me money but instead gifted me with one of the most powerful skills of the modern age.
The words of a nameless, faceless, Nigerian Prince carried such influence that I now believe influencing is more effective than convincing. Convincing now feels like a scam.
It’s easy to confuse the two, the differences are subtle.
Convincing relies on logic
Convincing is writer-centric,
Convincing is fervent,
whereas
Influencing is centered on the reader,
Influencing is intentional,
Influencing amplifies well-structured logic with psychology and effective word choices.
To shift from convincing to influencing, here’s a little-known secret: improve your writing.
Better writing catalyzes the chain reaction that leads to influence. Good writing leads to great thinking, which, in turn, makes your speaking flow naturally. And to lead a business, pitch your startup, get additional funding, lead internal change, or motivate your team, you must be influential.
What I find intriguing is that the leaders of the world’s largest companies have one skill in common - they wield their influence through their communication. Their words are believed, repeated, and stolen - that’s real power, even when wielded irresponsibly. ‘Good’ or ‘great’ aren't the right adjectives to describe the quality of communication you need to lead, let’s get more specific - influential is a more fitting descriptor. Influence is what propels you through job interviews, locks in deals, and secures funding. In today’s world, it is a game-changing skill.
So, when contemplating the next level - whether it's you, your team, or your business - I want to challenge you to focus on cultivating your ability to 'influence’. As leaders in a time-starved world, we are tasked with the responsibility of communicating with clarity and impact. By honing our writing skills and mastering the craft of influence, we unlock the doors to success in business, relationships, and beyond. It is through the mastery of words that we leave a lasting impression on those who listen. Write better, influence greater, and you might end up giving an epiphany to a would-be Nigerian Prince.
P.S.: When you’re ready, start your chain reaction here.
Hmmmm, I need to actually intentionally practice this concept and get back to writing my blog. Influence not convince…
Another powerful masterpiece from the one and only Adia the Great. 🙌🏼🙇🏻♂️