Jane Eyre, Master Negotiator
"I WILL be happy. Goodbye!" --Jane
Last month, I gave you an example of a negotiator whose superpower was preparation. She made an effort to find and talk to people with relevant experiences, and learn from their stories.
This month, I give you a negotiator who insists on her own worth, even in situations where she seems powerless, and who follows her own values and priorities even when other people think she’s nuts. She is 128 years old. She wrote an autobiography without ever existing.
Jane Eyre finds herself in a series of dire situations, beginning at eight years old with a physical attack from her abusive elder cousin John. This time, she fights back.
[Pain] for the time predominated over fear, and I received him in frantic sort. I don’t very well know what I did with my hands, but he called me “Rat! Rat!” and bellowed out aloud. Aid was near him: . . . . We were parted: I heard the words—
“Dear! dear! What a fury to fly at Master John!”
“Did ever anybody see such a picture of passion!”
Then Mrs. Reed subjoined—
“Take her away to the red-room, and lock her in there.” Four hands were immediately laid upon me, and I was borne upstairs.
Locked in a dark room alone, Jane examines her behavior and finds it justified. Later she tells off her cruel Aunt Reed, for which she is shunned. But no punishment or social convention will stop her from pursuing her own goals.
Ten years later, Jane has spent most of her life at the charity school Lowood first as a pupil and then as a teacher. At eighteen, she thinks about what she wants her life to be.
I desired liberty; for liberty I gasped; for liberty I uttered a prayer; it seemed scattered on the wind then faintly blowing. I abandoned it and framed a humbler supplication; for change, stimulus: that petition, too, seemed swept off into vague space: “Then,” I cried, half desperate, “grant me at least a new servitude!” ….
“A new servitude! There is something in that . . . I know there is, because it does not sound too sweet; it is not like such words as Liberty, Excitement, Enjoyment: delightful sounds truly; but no more than sounds for me; and so hollow and fleeting that it is mere waste of time to listen to them. But Servitude! That must be matter of fact. Any one may serve: I have served here eight years; now all I want is to serve elsewhere. Can I not get so much of my own will? Is not the thing feasible? Yes—yes—the end is not so difficult; if I had only a brain active enough to ferret out the means of attaining it.”
I sat up in bed by way of arousing this said brain: it was a chilly night; I covered my shoulders with a shawl, and then I proceeded to think again with all my might.
“What do I want? A new place, in a new house, amongst new faces, under new circumstances: I want this because it is of no use wanting anything better. How do people do to get a new place? They apply to friends, I suppose: I have no friends. There are many others who have no friends, who must look about for themselves and be their own helpers; and what is their resource?”
This is not really a negotiation, which I define as working with another person to achieve an outcome. Jane is alone, making a decision about her future. But look what she’s doing:
Identifying a key value: liberty.
Figuring out a realistic goal to pursue that will lead her toward liberty: finding a new job elsewhere.
Asking how other people handle this situation, and reviewing what she knows: in the paragraphs following this excerpt, she realizes that people without connections advertise in the paper.
Executing next steps: she walks to the post office and mails her advertisement.
And look at what she’s not doing: getting in her own way.
Jane could make all kinds of excuses for not taking action. She has good, stable employment at Lowood. The other teachers may be upset if she leaves, or accuse her of not appreciating the school and what it has done for her. She has limited experience with the outside world and has no idea what’s waiting for her out there. But she doesn’t waste energy on fretting.
When Jane needs to negotiate her departure, it doesn’t even seem like a negotiation because she’s not worried about leaving or what anyone thinks about her choice.
Next day new steps were to be taken; my plans could no longer be confined to my own breast; I must impart them in order to achieve their success. Having sought and obtained an audience of the superintendent during the noontide recreation, I told her I had a prospect of getting a new situation where the salary would be double what I now received (for at Lowood I only got £15 per annum); and requested she would break the matter for me to Mr. Brocklehurst, or some of the committee, and ascertain whether they would permit me to mention them as references.
Jane supplements her resignation notice with a reason that the superintendent will understand and won’t argue with. Even though her underlying desire is liberty, she doesn’t say, “I desire liberty!” The superintendent does not care about her liberty. Instead, Jane says, “This new job will double my salary.” Which is true.
And she is not asking for permission to leave, apologizing for leaving, or otherwise indicating that the school has any power over her actions. Instead, she’s informing the superintendent of her plan, and simply requesting the customary next steps. Boss move.
I’m going to skip over the whole “Mr. Rochester loves me, but what are those disturbing sounds from the attic??” part and fast-forward about a hundred pages.
Toward the end of the book, Jane spars with her excessively godly long-lost cousin, St. John, who can wear down just about anybody except her.
“I apprised you that I was a hard man,” said he, “difficult to persuade.”
“And I am a hard woman,—impossible to put off.”
“And then,” he pursued, “I am cold: no fervour infects me.”
“Whereas I am hot, and fire dissolves ice…. tell me what I wish to know.”
“Well, then,” he said, “I yield; if not to your earnestness, to your perseverance: as stone is worn by continual dropping.”
Later, they continually argue, with him exhorting her to be more altruistic instead of focusing on domestic contentment.
“[T]ry to restrain the disproportionate fervour with which you throw yourself into commonplace home pleasures. Don’t cling so tenaciously to ties of the flesh; save your constancy and ardour for an adequate cause; forbear to waste them on trite transient objects. Do you hear, Jane?”
“Yes; just as if you were speaking Greek. I feel I have adequate cause to be happy, and I will be happy. Goodbye!”
I will be happy. Goodbye! New mantra.
And finally, he harangues her to marry him and join him on a missionary trip to India. She counterproposes that she will go with him, but as his sister, not his wife. He absolutely insists. Guilt-trips her. Tells her it’s God’s will. Implies that she has already agreed and yet must follow through. She falls for none of it, and declines, even though it causes an irreparable rift in their relationship. This is a negotiation masterclass, too long for an email, but you can read the full analysis here.
(If you enjoyed this post, you might also like the Halloween post about how Dr. Frankenstein’s death was ultimately brought about by his poor negotiation skills.)
“Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last.” - Charlotte Brontë, Preface to Jane Eyre.
Jane Eyre is the answer to everything! I so enjoyed this article. Thank you!