Some years ago, my friend Ilse and I were vacationing in Turkey. We saw many wondrous sites. We saw enormous stone statues built for Antiochus I on top of Mount Nemrut, 6,000 feet high. Antiochus had these statues built to honor himself and his queen. It was difficult to get there. A jeep took us most of the way, but we had to trudge up to the top. It was exhausting but magnificent.
The statues, created 60 years before the birth of Christ, were of stone that did not come from that mountain. How did the stone get there? And the statues? Helicopter?
We saw underground cities, eight stories high. Early Christians spent their lives in these cities, hiding from invading Mongols. And we wandered through astonishing moonscapes in the Goreme Valley. We had to reassure ourselves that we were still on planet Earth.
But we were most intrigued by the vastness of Istanbul's Grand Bazaar, also called the Covered Bazaar. There were stalls with almost any kind of merchandise you could imagine. At one point, Ilse saw an attractive leather jacket hanging over a shop entrance. She approached the merchant-these fellows speak every language-and inquired, "How much is that jacket?"
Without a moment's hesitation, he replied, "That's 60,000 lira." He paused a moment, then added, "Unless you want to buy it. Then it's 40,000 lira."
Like many merchants in Turkey and other parts of the world, he knew that bargaining was a common, let's say essential, element in any commercial transaction. He simply started bargaining before the transaction began. He was a prisoner of habit.
On another occasion, Ilse and I were visiting Vienna. She was born there, so she spoke German fluently. Routinely, she would translate for me. We would see a sign; she would translate into English for me. We would hear an announcement; she would translate. We would overhear a heated conversation; she would translate. It became a routine, almost a reflex, throughout our entire stay in Austria.
At one point, during our visit to a shop, the merchant overheard our conversation. Hoping to practice his fluency, he started to address us-in English. Promptly, and without a moment's hesitation, Ilse translated into German. It took her a good 30 seconds before she understood why the merchant and I burst out laughing.
She couldn't help it; she was a prisoner of habit.
Fortunately for the rest of us, in our engineering and business behavior, we are not.