Imagine you're negotiating a salary. Before you've said a word about your qualifications, your potential employer mentions a number. That number—whether reasonable or absurd—has just changed everything about the conversation you're about to have.

This is anchoring, one of the most robust and troubling findings in behavioral economics. The first number you encounter in any estimation or negotiation task exerts a gravitational pull on your final judgment, even when that initial figure was generated randomly, even when you know it's irrelevant, even when you're an expert in the domain.

What makes anchoring particularly insidious is how invisible it feels. We experience our adjusted estimates as the product of careful reasoning. The research tells a different story—one where our sophisticated analysis is quietly tethered to whatever number happened to arrive first.

In one of the most striking demonstrations of anchoring, psychologists Amos Tversky and Daniel Kahneman spun a wheel of fortune in front of participants. The wheel was rigged to land on either 10 or 65. Then they asked people to estimate what percentage of African countries belonged to the United Nations.

Those who saw the wheel land on 10 estimated around 25%. Those who saw 65 estimated around 45%. A visibly random number from a carnival game shifted expert estimates by twenty percentage points.

This wasn't a one-off curiosity. Subsequent research has replicated anchoring effects across domains that should be immune to such manipulation. Real estate agents shown arbitrary listing prices adjust their professional valuations accordingly. Judges given random numbers before sentencing decisions hand down different penalties. Negotiators who receive an aggressive opening offer settle at higher prices even when they reject that first bid outright.

Perhaps most unsettling: telling people about anchoring doesn't eliminate it. Participants who were explicitly warned that the wheel spin was random and should be ignored still showed the effect. Awareness provides surprisingly little protection against a bias that operates beneath conscious deliberation.

Takeaway

Anchors don't need to be reasonable or relevant to influence your judgment—they only need to be first.

The standard explanation for anchoring is called the anchor-and-adjust heuristic. When estimating an uncertain quantity, we start from an available reference point and adjust from there. The problem isn't that we fail to adjust—it's that we consistently stop adjusting too soon.

Think of adjustment as mental effort. Each step away from the anchor requires cognitive work: accessing relevant knowledge, evaluating whether your current estimate makes sense, deciding whether to keep moving. At some point, we reach a plausible value and stop—but plausible is not the same as accurate.

This insufficiency becomes more pronounced under cognitive load. When people are tired, distracted, or time-pressured, they adjust even less from anchors. Expertise offers some protection but doesn't eliminate the effect—experts simply start closer to the truth before the anchor pulls them off course.

There's another mechanism at play beyond lazy adjustment. Anchors can selectively activate information in memory. When you hear a high anchor for a house price, you spontaneously think of reasons the house might be valuable. When you hear a low anchor, deficiencies come to mind more easily. The anchor doesn't just provide a starting point—it shapes what evidence feels relevant to your judgment.

Takeaway

Adjustment is effortful, and we stop when we reach something plausible rather than pushing until we reach something accurate.

If anchoring operates automatically and awareness doesn't neutralize it, how can we defend against manipulation? The research points to several strategies, none perfect but all useful.

First, generate your own anchor before encountering theirs. In salary negotiations, research your market rate and fix that number in mind before any conversation begins. Your pre-commitment to a reference point reduces the pull of whatever anchor the other party introduces. Write it down. Say it out loud. Make it concrete.

Second, consider the opposite. When you notice yourself anchored—perhaps you've just heard an aggressive opening offer—deliberately generate reasons why the anchor might be wrong. What evidence suggests the true value is much higher or lower? This technique forces you to access information that the anchor may have suppressed.

Third, take your time. Since cognitive load exacerbates anchoring, decisions made under pressure are especially vulnerable. When stakes are high, delay your response. Sleep on major offers. The simple act of stepping away creates space for more effortful adjustment.

Finally, in negotiations, recognize that making the first offer often provides strategic advantage. The research cuts both ways—if anchoring is inevitable, you'd rather set the anchor than receive one. Those who make ambitious opening offers in salary or price negotiations consistently achieve better outcomes.

Takeaway

The best defense against their anchor is establishing your own first—through research, pre-commitment, and the willingness to open negotiations on your terms.

Anchoring reveals something uncomfortable about human judgment. Our estimates feel like products of deliberation, but they're shaped by whatever number happened to drift past first. Random digits, arbitrary starting points, aggressive opening bids—all leave fingerprints on conclusions we experience as our own.

The practical implications extend beyond negotiation tactics. Every time you encounter a number before making a judgment—a suggested donation, a manufacturer's price, an expert's forecast—that figure is quietly constraining your thinking.

You cannot eliminate anchoring through willpower or awareness. But you can prepare. Know your numbers before the conversation starts. The first anchor sets the boundaries of what feels reasonable—so make sure it's yours.