Michelle: The single biggest mistake people make in a tough negotiation isn't saying the wrong thing. It's saying anything at all. Your first instinct—to fight back or give in—is almost always the move that guarantees you lose. Mark: Hold on, so the best move is no move? That feels incredibly passive. If someone comes at you aggressively, and you just stand there silently, aren't you just handing them the win? Michelle: That’s the gut reaction, isn't it? It feels like weakness. But what if it’s actually the ultimate source of strength? This is the central idea in a book that’s become a classic for anyone in a tough spot: Getting Past No by William Ury. Mark: Ah, Ury. I know that name. He’s the Harvard guy, right? Co-wrote that huge bestseller Getting to Yes. Michelle: Exactly. He co-founded Harvard’s Program on Negotiation. And you can think of this book, Getting Past No, as the essential sequel. Getting to Yes is for when both sides are willing to be reasonable. This book is for when they’re not. It’s the playbook for what he calls "breakthrough negotiation"—when you’re facing hostility, anger, and a flat-out "no." Mark: Okay, so this is negotiation on hard mode. I'm listening.

Michelle: It starts with a simple but profound metaphor. When a negotiation gets heated, Ury says you need to "Go to the Balcony." Mark: Go to the balcony? What does that even mean? Am I supposed to excuse myself and find some fresh air? Michelle: It's a mental balcony. Imagine you’re on a stage in a play, and the scene gets intense. "Going to the balcony" means you mentally float up and look down on the stage from a third-person perspective. You see yourself, you see the other person, you see the dynamic playing out. It’s a way to detach from your raw, immediate emotions. Mark: What emotions are we talking about? Michelle: Ury identifies three natural, and equally disastrous, reactions. The first is to strike back. They attack, you attack. The second is to give in. You get uncomfortable with the confrontation and just want it to be over, so you agree to something you'll regret. And the third is to break off. You get frustrated, say "forget it," and walk away, losing any chance of a deal. Mark: I can definitely relate to all three of those. Usually in the same conversation. Michelle: We all can. They’re primal, fight-or-flight responses. And they are poison to a good outcome. There's a tragic story that illustrates the stakes. In 2010, a disgruntled former police officer in Manila hijacked a tourist bus. The negotiation was televised, and it was tense. Mark: I think I remember this. It didn't end well, did it? Michelle: It ended in a catastrophe. The negotiator on the ground was trying to build rapport, but the situation was chaotic. The hijacker’s brother was arrested on live TV nearby, which the hijacker saw. He felt betrayed. The police, feeling the pressure, eventually stormed the bus. In the ensuing chaos, the hijacker and several hostages were killed. Everyone was reacting. No one was on the balcony. They were all stuck on the stage, swept up in the emotion and the pressure, and it led to the worst possible outcome. Mark: Wow. Okay, that's an incredibly high-stakes example. But for most of us, it's not a hostage crisis. It's a salary negotiation or a fight with a teenager. In that moment, when your boss is lowballing you, how do you actually do it? How do you just float up to a mental balcony without looking like you’ve zoned out or, worse, that you’re weak? Michelle: That’s the key question, and it’s a criticism some people have of the book—that it’s hard to execute in the heat of the moment. But Ury’s point is that it’s not about being passive; it’s about pausing to become strategic. It’s buying yourself a few seconds to think. You can take a sip of water. You can ask to repeat a question. You can say, "That's an interesting point. Let me think about that for a moment." You’re not surrendering; you’re taking control of the tempo. Mark: So it’s less about a zen-like trance and more about having a few pre-planned moves to slow the game down. Michelle: Exactly. Think of a much lower-stakes example from the book. A young car salesman, Mark, is dealing with a customer, Mrs. Johnson. She needs a safe family car. Instead of just pushing the most expensive model, he prepares. He researches her needs, her trade-in, and her likely objections. When she expresses concern about the price, he doesn't get defensive or immediately drop the price. He stays on his balcony. He acknowledges her concern, then calmly walks her through the long-term value and safety features he knows she cares about. He’s not reacting to her "no" on price; he’s responding to her underlying need for security. He gets the sale, and she leaves happy. It’s the same principle, just with lower stakes. Mark: Okay, I can see that. The preparation lets him stay on the balcony because he's not surprised. He has a plan. So you've gone to your mental balcony, you're calm, you've avoided the knee-jerk reaction. Now what? The other person is still being difficult.

Michelle: This is where you shift from the inner game to the outer game. Once you’ve controlled yourself, you can start to influence them. And the strategy is completely counter-intuitive. You don't push. You don't argue. You don't try to break down their walls. Ury says you do the opposite of what they expect. You step to their side. Mark: Step to their side? You mean agree with them? Michelle: Not necessarily agree, but acknowledge. Listen. Show them you understand their point of view, even if you don't accept it. You say things like, "I can see why you feel that way," or "That's a valid concern." You're disarming them. They expect a fight, and you're offering understanding. This sets the stage for the master move: you build them a "Golden Bridge." Mark: A golden bridge. Another great metaphor. What is it? Michelle: A golden bridge is a path from their entrenched position to a mutually acceptable agreement that you make as attractive as possible for them. You’re not trying to shove them toward your solution. You're trying to build an elegant, appealing bridge and invite them to walk across it. It’s about making it easy for them to say yes. Mark: How do you do that? Michelle: The most powerful example of this is Nelson Mandela. After 27 years in prison, he could have come out seeking revenge against the white apartheid government. That's what everyone expected. A civil war seemed inevitable. Mark: Right, he had every reason to be angry and to want to crush his opponents. Michelle: But Mandela went to the balcony. He understood that the white minority wasn't just evil; they were also afraid. They were afraid of losing their homes, their culture, their safety. So instead of threatening them, he built them a golden bridge. He started by learning Afrikaans, the language of his oppressors. He studied their history. He acknowledged their fears publicly. Mark: That’s incredible. He was stepping to their side on a national scale. Michelle: Precisely. And then he involved them in creating the solution. The new South Africa wasn't something he forced on them; it was something they helped design. He created a Truth and Reconciliation Commission instead of vengeful trials. He made it possible for F.W. de Klerk, the last apartheid president, to give up power without being politically and personally destroyed. He helped his opponent save face. That was the golden bridge. He made the path to a multiracial democracy look like a shared victory, not a humiliating defeat for one side. Mark: That’s a perfect example. So the golden bridge isn't just about the final terms of the deal. It's about the process. It's about addressing their unspoken needs—their ego, their fear, their need for respect—not just their stated demands. Michelle: You've got it. You're making it psychologically easy for them to move from "no" to "yes." You involve them in the solution so it feels like their idea. You reframe the problem so you're attacking it together, not each other. You satisfy their unmet interests. It's a complete reversal of the traditional, adversarial mindset.

Mark: It really is a two-part process then. The balcony is about you, and the bridge is about them. Michelle: That’s the whole dance. First, you control your inner world by going to the balcony. You stop the cycle of action and reaction. Then, and only then, can you effectively reshape the outer world by building a bridge for them. You can't build a steady bridge if you're standing on shaky ground yourself. Mark: It’s a powerful combination of self-control and strategic empathy. Michelle: And it leads to a profound shift in the goal of negotiation. It’s not about winning. It’s about winning them over. There's a quote from Mandela that Ury includes that sums it all up perfectly: "If you want to make peace with your enemy, you have to work with your enemy. Then he becomes your partner." Mark: That’s such a hopeful way to look at it. It makes you wonder how many conflicts, big or small, at work or at home, just persist because no one is willing to build that first part of the bridge. Michelle: It’s a powerful question. And it’s something we can all think about. We'd love to hear from our listeners—what's a time you saw someone build a golden bridge, or maybe a time you wish you had? Let us know what you think. Mark: It’s a challenge for all of us. A simple idea, but a difficult practice. Michelle: But a practice that can, as Ury shows, change the world. Mark: This is Aibrary, signing off.