Invisible Influence by Jonah Berger

similarity rules.
    Yet, ask a parent about their child, or a pet owner about their dog, and you’ll get a different opinion. Their baby is completely different from the rest. Their dog is the most unique animal that has ever walked the face of the Earth. Ever.
    In some ways, this is the crux of distinction. Some differences are real. We purchase different brands, espouse different opinions, or go on different vacations from our friends and neighbors. We buy that antique coffee table made out of reclaimed teakwood and railroad ties.
    But we also satisfy our thirst for difference using our minds alone. By focusing on ways we’re similar to everyone else or ways we’re different. That we bought our shirt at the same store where thousands of others bought theirs, or that we bought that particular shade of off-off-grey that few others have.
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    These mental gymnastics help resolve a puzzle that many people feel when they hear about distinction.
    Look around the next time you’re at the grocery store or waiting for the subway and you’ll notice that most people look pretty similar. We all have two eyes, two ears, a nose, and a mouth. We wear similar-looking clothes, eat similar-looking food, and live in similar-looking homes. Yet even in this sea of similarity, we feel unique. Different. Special.
    And part of it comes down to the illusion of distinction. We focus on ways we are different, even if at the core we are very much the same.
    But does everyone feel the desire for difference to the same degree?
LET’S START A CAR CLUB
    Consider the flip of the scenarios earlier in this chapter. Not whether you’d still buy a painting you liked if someone already had it, or still order a beer you wanted if someone already ordered it, but how you’d react if someone copied something you were already doing. How you’d react to being imitated.
    Imagine you just purchased a new car. You show it to a few friends, and then you find out that one of the friends you showed it to went and bought the same thing. The exact same make and model. How would you feel?
    When Northwestern professor Nicole Stephens asked MBA students this question, she got some predictable responses.
    Irritated or upset, they replied. They felt betrayed that their friend bought the same car and annoyed that their car was nolonger unique. The MBAs felt that someone else doing the same thing as themselves would spoil their differentiation, that it would make their car more generic.
    This negative reaction fits with everything we’ve talked about regarding uniqueness. People like to be somewhat unique, and when that sense of differentiation is threatened, a negative emotional reaction occurs. And, consistent with people’s desire to be different, the MBAs were upset when someone else copied them.
    Nicole also asked another group of people the same question. This second group was similar to the MBAs in many ways. They were around the same age and, like MBAs, mostly male.
    There was only one difference. Rather than being relatively well-off, this second group of people were a bit more blue-collar. Rather than attending a prestigious business school that costs over $100,000 a year, they had working-class jobs.
    They were firefighters.
    When Nicole asked the firefighters how they would feel if their friend bought the same car, almost none of them said they would be irritated or upset. In fact, when she tabulated the data, she found that their responses were decidedly positive. Rather than being annoyed, they said they would be happy for their friend. It wouldn’t bother them at all, they replied, and the friend would get a great car.
    As one firefighter put it: “Awesome, let’s start a car club!”
    Why did firefighters react so differently? Why were they comfortable with being similar while the MBAs were not, and what does that tell us about people’s desire to be different?
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    It wasn’t until she got to