Empowerment Starts With Knowing What Matters to You!

Insights with Dr. Vera Hampel

When negotiating with someone, they might not have clarity on what their interests are. What advice do you have for negotiating with someone who does not know what their interests are? Are there questions you consistently use to uncover interests beneath a strong position?

That situation is actually very common. People often defend positions without having fully reflected on what is driving them. If someone says, "This is non-negotiable," it doesn’t necessarily mean they are rigid. It may mean they haven’t yet articulated what they are trying to protect.

In those moments, curiosity is more effective than counterargument. I might ask: "What would solving this allow you to achieve?" or "What concern would remain even if we agreed to this?" Another useful question is: "What are you trying to avoid?"

The goal is not to corner someone, but to create space for reflection. When people feel understood rather than challenged, they often become clearer themselves. And as clarity increases, rigidity tends to decrease.

How does the role of preconceived assumptions or even prejudices affect negotiations, for instance, when a negotiation partner assumes our primary 'interest' is flexibility or work-life balance when our actual interest is career progression or equal pay?

Do you have any advice for handling this?

Assumptions shape the entire negotiation before it even begins. If someone misreads your priorities, the conversation moves in the wrong direction from the outset and it is really hard, if not impossible, to find sustainable solutions.

The key is not to react defensively, but to calmly recalibrate the frame. For example: "Flexibility matters to me, but my primary focus here is long-term progression and compensation aligned with market standards."

That clarification may seem small, but it can shift the tone significantly. It signals self-awareness and confidence rather than confrontation. To do this effectively, however, we must first be clear about our own interests, and then communicate them directly, without accusation.

When we respond with clarity instead of defensiveness, we correct the narrative without escalating the interaction. And in many cases, that reset is enough to bring the negotiation back to substance.

You describe emotions as signals of value. How can someone distinguish between an emotion that signals a core interest and one that is more a fear-based reaction (like 'imposter syndrome') that might tempt us to concede too much to avoid conflict?

I think it’s important to approach this question with some compassion toward ourselves. Fear in negotiation is not a weakness, it is a very human response. And like any other emotion, it signals that something we value, whether at stake on the table or in relation to the other person, feels at risk.

Often in negotiations, fear arises when we feel insecure, unsupported, isolated or lacking agency. In that sense, fear may signal an interest or need in feeling more capable, more connected, more prepared or more protected. If we understand it that way, the conversation shifts. Instead of asking ourselves, "Is this fear legitimate?", we ask, "What do I need in order to feel more grounded in this situation?" That might mean preparing more thoroughly, seeking advice beforehand, clarifying one’s alternatives, bringing an ally into the conversation, or simply giving oneself more time before responding. In other words, we recognize the emotion, identify the underlying interest (for example, the need for security or support) and then act on that interest constructively.

Is there a difference in how we should handle anger versus fear in negotiations, since they signal different underlying concerns?

Yes, there is a difference, but not in the sense that one emotion is "better" than the other. Both anger and fear are valid signals. They simply point to different underlying concerns and therefore require different forms of regulation.

Fear often arises when something feels uncertain or when we sense potential loss (e.g., of status, opportunity, security, or belonging). Research shows that anxiety can lower our aspirations and make us more cautious than the situation objectively requires. We may make smaller first offers, concede more quickly, or seek relief by ending the negotiation prematurely. The risk with fear is not that it exists, it is that it quietly narrows our sense of possibility. Managing fear therefore means strengthening ourselves: preparing thoroughly, clarifying our alternatives, reminding ourselves of our value, and creating internal stability before we respond.

Anger, by contrast, usually signals a perceived injustice or boundary violation. It can provide energy and clarity about what matters. At the same time, research suggests that unmanaged anger tends to escalate conflict, reduce cooperation, and increase the likelihood of impasse. The risk here is not shrinking, but hardening or becoming so focused on defending a position that we lose sight of shared interests.

So the difference lies in the direction of the pull. Fear pulls us inward and tempts premature concession. Anger pushes us outward and tempts escalation. In both cases, emotional intelligence means pausing long enough to ask: "What is this emotion protecting?" Once we identify the underlying interest (e.g., security, fairness, recognition, respect) we can respond deliberately rather than react reflexively. Neither emotion is the enemy. The challenge is not to suppress them, but to interpret them wisely.

When negotiating for a promotion or resources in a traditional hierarchy, how do we apply the Harvard Principles to move the conversation away from our 'position' (I deserve this) to a shared interest in the firm's strategic success?

The shift begins long before the conversation itself. It starts in preparation.

Instead of beginning with the position (i.e., "I deserve this promotion") I would first clarify my own interests. Why does this step matter to me? Is it about professional impact and reputation? About feeling valued after years of commitment? About financial responsibility toward my family? Each of these motivations may reflect a different underlying interest: success, appreciation, security, contribution.

That internal clarity changes the negotiation. Because once I understand what truly matters to me, I can evaluate the full range of possible options. Is it strictly the title? Or could certain responsibilities, visibility, strategic projects, financial components, flexibility, or recognition also address my interests? The Harvard approach invites us to expand the pie before dividing it. When I am clear about my interests, I can assess creative alternatives instead of fixating on a single outcome.

The second step is to prepare the other side’s interests just as carefully. In a traditional hierarchy, a superior is rarely driven by whether I "deserve" something. They most likely are driven by performance, stability, budget constraints, team dynamics, risk management, and strategic priorities. So the question becomes: What problem of the organization does my promotion solve? How does it advance the firm’s objectives? How does it reduce friction, increase revenue, strengthen leadership capacity, or secure continuity? When the conversation shifts to: "Here is how this step supports our shared strategic goals," the tone changes. It becomes less about entitlement and more about alignment.

And finally, beyond interests, legitimacy matters. In the Harvard framework, objective criteria anchor the conversation. Market benchmarks, internal salary bands, performance metrics, industry standards, these provide a neutral reference point. They help contextualize personal aspirations within organizational reality. Instead of saying, "I feel I deserve this," one can say, "Based on these performance indicators and market comparisons, this step appears consistent with established standards."

Your PHD focused on emotional intelligence. Based on this work, what is one thing you wish everyone understood about emotional intelligence?

I wish more people understood that emotional intelligence is not about being nice, agreeable, or conflict-avoidant. It is not the absence of tension. In fact, emotionally intelligent people are often very willing to enter difficult conversations.

Emotional intelligence is the ability to remain clear and self-aligned in the presence of conflict, while still being genuinely open and empathetic toward others. It means I can stay connected to my own interests, values, and boundaries without becoming defensive or aggressive. And at the same time, I can stay curious about what matters to you.

Another misconception is that emotional intelligence is something you either have or you don’t. Research shows quite clearly that it is highly trainable. Recognizing, understanding and regulating emotions - these are skills. Like negotiation itself, they improve with deliberate practice. That, to me, is encouraging. Emotional intelligence is not a personality trait reserved for a few. It is a discipline that can be developed, and that makes it accessible to everyone willing to work on it.

Has your understanding of emotional intelligence changed over time? If so, how?

When I first studied emotional intelligence, I approached it primarily as a competence, so as something you can understand, measure, and develop. And that is still true. But over time, and through experience, I’ve come to see it much more as a process.

You can be highly emotionally intelligent and still have moments where you feel overwhelmed. In fact, if we never felt overwhelmed, we would probably stop being human. Emotional intelligence doesn’t mean permanent calm or perfect regulation. It means increasing the likelihood that you can return to clarity after you’ve been triggered.

I now think of it a bit like mindfulness. You don’t practice it once and then apply it flawlessly in every situation. You practice so that, in difficult moments, you have a slightly higher probability of responding thoughtfully rather than reacting automatically. It improves your recovery time. It strengthens your awareness. But it is never a guarantee.

So I no longer see emotional intelligence as a state one achieves. It is an ongoing discipline. And in some sense, you never arrive at "full calm", you simply become better at finding your way back to it.