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Power Buffers Stress 1

Running head: POWER BUFFERS STRESS

Power Buffers Stress – For Better and For Worse

Dana R. Carney

University of California, Berkeley

Andy J. Yap

Massachusetts Institute of Technology

Brian J. Lucas

Northwestern University

Pranjal H. Mehta

University of Oregon

James A. McGee

Columbia University

Caroline Wilmuth

Harvard University


Abstract

In 3 experiments, we offer evidence for the theoretical position that having power leads to a

reduction in the stress response—which can have both positive and negative consequences.

Experiment 1 tested the power-buffers-stress hypothesis in the context of a high-pressure mock

job interview. Experiment 2 extended further the power-buffers-stress hypothesis by testing the

effect on a physical stressor—an ice water submersion task. Experiment 3 tested the hypothesis

in the context of an interrogation about theft in a high-stakes mock crime. Across three

experiments, high-power individuals (vs. low-power) exhibited less of a stress response across

measures of emotion, cognition, physiology, and nonverbal behavior. We suggest some specific

biological trajectories through which power may buffer individuals from the stress response.


Power Buffers Stress – For Better and For Worse

Vladimir Putin lives an intense life. Decisions, which for him, are routine – carry great

local and international consequence and affect the social and economic livelihood of millions.

He, like many leaders, wakes early and retires late. He meets with other international luminaries

frequently and makes high-stakes public speeches which are broadcast to millions (sometimes

billions) of people. To meet the demands of his position, he necessarily pushes his mind and

body to the outer limits of mental and physical well-being. We might imagine that Vladimir

Putin’s daily life would be become overwhelmingly, chronically stressful. Yet, he persists and

even thrives. How does Putin – or any other powerful person—meet these overwhelming

psychological and physical challenges? Vladimir Putin possesses a great deal of power as he

resides in his current, third, non-consecutive term as president. Does Putin’s power help

him respond to and manage these stressors? In other words, instead of increasing

stress, could possessing power actually buffer us from the stress response? This question is the

focus of the current research.

Early research harvested from the animal literature in the 1950’s led to the idea that

power is associated with increases in the stress experience. These findings came to be known as

the "executive stress syndrome" (Brady, Porter, Conrad, & Mason, 1958). The conclusion drawn

from this work was that those at the top of a hierarchy (vs. those at the bottom) demonstrate

relatively higher chronic levels of the stress hormone cortisol. This animal research was applied

widely toward the understanding of both human and nonhuman primates. Although the

“executive stress syndrome” was certainly a provocative hypothesis, more recent research in

both nonhuman animals and humans has failed to provide strong empirical support for it. If

anything, it seems that the “executive stress syndrome” occurs only in a very narrow kind of


social structure: rigid societies in which hierarchies can be threatened or are unstable and power

can be lost. In these cases, power is maintained through continuous aggression and intimidation

(Hellhammer, Buchtal, Gutberlet, & Kirschbaum, 1997; Sapolsky, 1990; Sapolsky, 2005;

Sapolsky, 2011; Jordan, Sivanathan, & Galinsky, 2011). However, the findings on power and

stress continue to be mixed, and their precise association still remains a hot topic of debate.

While research converges on the suggestion that power increases the number and severity

of stressors in one’s life (Dansereau, Graen & Haga, 1975; Hogg, 2001), whether power

increases (or decreases) the stress response is largely an open question. There is some direct

evidence to suggest that power is linked to less—and not more—of a stress response. For

example, in nonhuman primates, power-holders show lower levels of basal cortisol, and cortisol

sometimes drops as power is acquired (Abbott, Keverne, Bercovitch, Shively, Mendoza,

Saltzman, Snowdon, Ziegler, Banjevic, Garland, & Sapolsky, 2003; Callaway, Marriott, & Esser,

1985; Coe, Mendoza, & Levine, 1979; Rejeski, Gagne, Parker, & Koritnik, 1989; Sapolsky,

Alberts, & Altmann, 1997; Winberg, Overli, Lepage, 2001). As such, powerful primates

(including humans) live longer, are more disease-resistant and recover more quickly from

psychological and physical stressors (Sapolsky, 1990; Sapolsky, 2005; Sapolsky, Alberts, &

Altmann, 1997). Research in public health and medicine also provides evidence for the

hypothesis that power may buffer the stress response. Individuals from high-ranking social

groups (e.g., whites; those with wealth and education) do not suffer from chronically elevated

cortisol and associated diseases as much as individuals from lower-ranking social groups (e.g.,

US-born African Americans; individuals without wealth or education; Adler, Boyce, Chesney,

Folkman, & Syme, 1993; Cohen, Schwartz, Epel, Kirschbaum, Sidney, & Seeman, 2006;

Gravlee, 2009; Krieger, Rowley, Herman, Avery, & Phillips, 1993; Williams & Collins, 1995).


If power does indeed buffer the stress response, the phenomenon would help to further

unite a large body of literature, which seems to be of two minds. On the one hand, many papers

have demonstrated all of the ways in which power leads to behavior with positive social

consequences. On the other hand, an equally large body of work has demonstrated how power

leads to behavior with negative social consequences. How can it be that power leads to behavior

with both good and bad social consequences? Based on previous research and theorizing, and the

simplicity afforded by the idea that power buffers stress, we predicted that possessing (versus

lacking) power would buffer individuals from the stress response—for better and for worse.

For Better: The Positive Consequences of Power. Power has been shown to

promote behaviors with many positive consequences. High- versus low-power leads to

successfully obtaining resources (de Waal, 1998; Keltner, Gruenfeld, & Anderson, 2003). The

powerful (vs. the powerless) are more action-oriented and willing to approach a difficult task

(Galinsky, Gruenfeld, & Magee, 2003). They are more optimistic (Anderson & Galinsky, 2006),

reward-focused (Anderson & Galinsky, 2006; Carney, Cuddy, & Yap, 2010; Ronay & von

Hippel, 2010), and they feel more agency and control over their own body and mind (Anderson

& Berdahl, 2002; Galinsky et al; Keltner et al.). The powerful are more pro-social (DeCremer &

Van Knippenberg, 2002; Griskevicius, Tybur, & Van den Bergh, 2010; Harbaugh, 1998), they

generally feel good (Anderson & Berdahl, 2002; Keltner, Gruenfeld, & Anderson, 2003) and

possessing power helps us express positive emotions (Berdahl & Martorana, 2006). The

powerful are more behaviorally consistent (a mark of psychological health; Chen, Lee-Chai, &

Bargh, 2001; Keltner, Young, Heerey, Oemig, & Monarch, 1998) and enjoy higher self-esteem,

better physical health, and increased longevity (Adler, Epel, Castellazzo, & Ickovics, 2000;

Barkow et al., 1975; Bugental & Cortez, 1988). The powerful think carefully about and find


unique value in individuals (Overbeck & Park, 2001) and are more likely to focus on

interpersonally rewarding aspects of social interaction (Anderson & Berdahl, 2002). All of these

experiences enjoyed by the powerful reflect and support the idea that power may buffer the stress

response; but for every behavior with a positive social consequence, there seems to be a behavior

with an equally impactful negative consequence. News headlines are replete with examples of

people in positions of power – business (Madoff), academic (Stapel), and political leaders

(Nixon) - who fall from their position of power and grace because of societal, ethical or moral

transgressions, including stealing, cheating and lying.

For Worse: The Negative Consequences of Power. High- versus low-power

has been shown to increase behaviors with negative social consequences. Power leads to a

general reduction in empathy and empathic responses (Ronay & Carney, 2013; van Honk &

Schutter, 2007; van Kleef, Oveis, van der Löwe, LuoKogan, Goetz, & Keltner, 2008). Likely

stemming from a reduction in empathy, Kipnis (1972) demonstrated that people with power

objectified the powerless and treated them more poorly—a finding echoed in Gruenfeld, Inesi,

Magee, & Galinsky (2008). These findings are also consistent with the link between higher

testosterone (a dominance hormone) and increases in perceiving others as purely a means to an

end (Carney & Mason, 2010). In negotiation contexts, high-power negotiators were found to

bluff more and exchanged less information with their low-power counterparts (Boles, Croson, &

Murnighan, 2000; Crott, Kayser, & Lamm, 1980). The powerful (vs. the powerless) are more

likely to be moral hypocrites (Lammers, Stapel, & Galinsky, 2010), engage in more adversarial

behaviors (Mazur & Booth, 1998; Dabbs & Morris, 1990), cheat (Lammers, Stapel, & Galinsky,

2010; Yap, Wazlawek, Lucas, Cuddy, & Carney, 2013), engage in infidelity (Lammers, Stoker,

Jordan, Pollmann, & Stapel, 2011), steal (Yap et al.), stereotype (Fiske, 1993), and violate traffic


laws (Piff, Stancatoa, Côté, Mendoza-Denton, & Keltner, 2012; Yap et al.). The powerful also

engage in more serious criminal behavior including sexual harassment (Pryor, LaVite, & Stoller,

1993), hate crimes (Green, Strolovitch, & Wong, 1998), violent crimes (Dabbs, Carr, Frady, &

Riad, 1995) and child abuse (Bugental & Cortez, 1988). How is it possible that power can

simultaneously lead to behavior with both positive and negative social consequences?

Current Research: Power Buffers the Stress Response

We propose that a common stress-buffering mechanism may underlie the influence of

power on both pro- and anti-social behaviors. In three experiments, we test the hypothesis that

power buffers individuals from the stress response – for better and for worse. Experiment 1

tested the power-buffers-stress hypothesis using a stress-eliciting laboratory paradigm—the Trier

Social Stress Test in which participants must deliver a speech in front of an evaluative audience

(e.g., Foley & Kirschbaum, 2010). Experiment 2 used an ice water submersion task to test the

power-buffers-stress hypothesis in the domain of physical stress (Hines & Brown, 1932).

Experiment 3 tested the power-buffers-stress hypothesis in a domain with potentially negative

social consequences – lying. Borrowing a naturalistic theft paradigm from the criminal justice

literature, we tested whether power would buffer the stress response during a high-stakes

interrogation about a crime. All experiments tested the stress-buffering effects of power on

emotion, cognition, physiological stress response, and nonverbal displays of stress.

Operational Definitions of: (1) The Stress Response and (2) Power

The Stress Response. Hans Selye, in 1936, studying the endocrinological systems

of animals, borrowed the term “stress” from engineering to describe phenomena he was

observing in his lab. The term was used to describe the body’s nonspecific response to an

“insult.” An insult can be a real or imagined psychological or physical stressor which results in


the mobilization of physiological resources so that the organism can either “fight” or “flee.” One

of the primary stress pathways, the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenocortical (HPA) axis, is

activated in response to a stressor. This activation results in the secretion of the hormone cortisol,

which is detectable in saliva approximately 20-30 mins after the stressor occurs (Dickerson &

Kemeney, 2004). In the current research we define the stress response as cortisol reactivity to a

physical or psychological stressor. We also examined self-reported stress and nonverbal

indications of stress (specific nonverbal behaviors defined in the context of each experiment).

Power. In the current research we define power as the psychological experience and

sense of power, which is linked to the ability to control one’s own and others’ access to resources

(including people, information, and instrumentalities) without social interference (e.g., Anderson

& Berdahl, 2002; Galinsky, Gruenfeld, & McGee, 2003; Galinsky, Magee, Inesi, & Gruenfeld,

2006; Keltner et al., 2003).

Experiment 1: Power Buffers the Stress Response During a Public Speech

To directly test the hypothesis that power buffers the stress response, Experiment 1 used

the Trier Social Stress Test (e.g., Foley & Kirschbaum, 2010). Participants prepared for and

delivered an employment-related speech to two judgmental evaluators and a video camera (in the

control condition only a camera was present). The stress response was measured by examining

nonverbal behaviors indicative of feeling stressed, self-reported stress, and cortisol activity at

three points in time: baseline, reactivity, and recovery. The third cortisol sample allowed for a

test of an alternative hypothesis – that power doesn’t buffer the stress response; it leads to a

faster recovery. We predicted that power would exert its effects through a buffering (not

recovery) mechanism rendering the powerful less stressed than the powerless as evidenced in

physiological, emotional, cognitive and nonverbal indicators of stress.


Method

Participants and Design

Fifty-five paid participants (37 female) from Columbia University were recruited and

randomly assigned to one of four conditions in a 2 (power: low vs. high) x 2 (stress: low-stress

vs. high-stress) factorial design.

Manipulation of Power

Following Carney et al. (2010; and also Bohns & Wiltermuth, 2012; Huang, Galinsky,

Gruenfeld, & Guillory, 2011; Yap et al., 2013), power was manipulated by inducing powerful

feelings and a physiological and nonverbal profile of power by configuring participant’s bodies

into either (a) expansive and open body postures or (b) contractive and closed body postures (i.e.,

so-called “power poses”). This particular power manipulation is relatively quicker to implement,

psychologically impactful, and comparable to lengthier role-assignment manipulations (Huang et

al., 2011). Following Carney et al., experimenters instructed participants to position his/her body

into two poses representative of either high or low power. To correct poses, verbal instructions

were accompanied by light touches of arms and legs to properly configure bodies into the poses.

A manipulation check administered an hour into the experiment (after the stress manipulation)

found support for a difference in sense of power between the high-power (M = 2.84; SD = .64)

and low-power condition (M = 2.46; SD = .76; F(1, 52) = 3.79, p < .06, effect size r = .27) on 8-

items: dominant, in control, in charge, high status, like a leader, powerful, and two additional

reverse-scored items: subordinate and submissive (α = .84).

The Trier Social Stress Test

Next, participants were either exposed to a high-stress or a low-stress condition. Stress

was manipulated with the Trier Social Stress Test (TSST; Kirschbaum, Pirke, & Hellhemmer,


1993). The TSST produces a two to threefold rise in salivary cortisol levels in 70–85% of

participants (Dickerson & Kemeney, 2004; Kudielka, Bellingrath, & Hellhammer, 2007).In the

current version of the TSST participants prepared for and then gave a speech in front of 2

evaluators who were trained to express neutrality (which comes off as moderate negativity) in

facial expression.1 Evaluators were dressed in white lab coats holding clipboards with notepads.

The high-stress condition contained evaluators and a video camera; the low stress condition

contained only a video camera. After a 5 min preparation phase (during which power was

manipulated with expansive versus contractive postures), participants delivered a 5 min speech

about why s/he should be hired for their dream job.

Two manipulation checks confirmed that high-stress participants felt more stressed on a

5-point scale (see scale description in following paragraphs; M = 2.78; SD = .86) than low-stress

participants (M = 2.28; SD = .67), F(1, 52) = 6.60, p < .02; effect size r = .36. Participants’

nonverbal indications of stress were also coded on a 1-5 scale (variable descriptions below);

evaluated participants expressed more nonverbal stress (M = 3.81; SD = .32) than non-evaluated

participants (M = 2.26; SD = .32), F(1, 52) = 11.64, p < .01; effect size r = .47.

Hormone Sampling and Assays

Standard salivary hormone-collection procedures were used (Kirschbaum & Hellhammer,

1994; Schultheiss & Stanton, 2009). Before providing saliva samples, participants did not eat,

drink, or brush their teeth for at least one hour. Participants were tested in the afternoon (12:00-

5:00pm) to control for diurnal rhythms in hormones (e.g., Kudielka, et al., 2004). Each

participant first rinsed his/her mouth with water and provided approximately 1.5 mL of saliva

through a straw into a sterile polypropylene microtubule. Saliva samples were immediately

1 Typically, the TSST also includes a 5 min arithmetic phase. To keep the experiment under 2-hours, this phase was not included in the current research; however, variations in the TSST, such as the one used here, produce reliable and consistent stress responses (Foley & Kirschbaum, 2010).


frozen to avoid hormone degradation and to precipitate mucins. Two weeks after the end of the

study, frozen samples were packed in dry ice and shipped for analysis to Salimetrics in State

College, Pennsylvania. At Salimetrics, samples were assayed in duplicate for salivary cortisol,

using a highly sensitive enzyme immunoassay. Three saliva samples were taken (which brought

the total testing time to 1.5 hours). The first sample was taken approximately 10 mins after

arrival; the second was taken approximately 22 mins after the end of the TSST (M = 22.16; SD =

3.21; range was 17 to 33 mins). The purpose of the third sample was to test the degree of

recovery from stress; this was taken at the very end of the experiment, approximately 13 mins

after the second sample (M = 12.51; SD = 4.08; range was 4 to 26 mins).2 Across the three

points in time, the intra-assay coefficient of variation (CV; calculated on the 10% of the sample

that was assayed in duplicate) was 5.45 %. Cortisol levels at time 1 were in the normal range (M

= 0.17 µg/dL, SD = .10). To illustrate the change in cortisol over time, all three points in time

were plotted as a function of the stress and power variables. The amount of time that passed

between the TSST manipulation and the second saliva sample did not differ across conditions: a

one-way ANOVA across the 4 conditions revealed no significant variance from the grand mean

of 22.16 mins, F(3, 54) = 0.18, p > .90. The same was true for the difference in time between the

2nd and 3rd saliva sample (Mg = 12.51 mins), F(3, 54) = 0.53, p > .66.

Additional Measures of the Stress Response

Self-reported stress response. To assess participants’ level of self-reported stress

following the job interview with two discerning evaluators, we asked participants to indicate how

anxious, nervous, shaky, at ease, clam, and relaxed they felt (the latter 3 items were reverse-

2 Taking the first saliva sample after only 10 mins is not optimal. Readers wishing to replicate this research should ideally wait 20-30 mins after arrival prior to taking the first saliva sample as this is how long it takes for a person to reach a baseline state.


scored) on a scale from 1 (not at all) to 5 (extremely). Items were averaged together to form

a composite variable of self-reported stress response (α = .86).

Measure of cognitive load. The Stroop was administered on the computer (Stroop,

1935). This task is an index of how cognitively taxed a person is (MacLeod, 1991; Swick &

Jovanovic, 2002). We will refer to performance on this measure as cognitive load. In the Stroop

task participants indicated “as quickly and accurately as possible” whether each of a series of

letter strings was written in red or blue (ignoring the meaning of the words; the key-press version

was taken from Smith, Jostmann, Galinsky, & van Dijk, 2008). Trials began with a 1-s fixation

point located in the center of the computer screen. Fixation points were immediately followed by

a red or blue-colored letter string. Participants responded to the string by indicating if it was blue

or red by pressing a designated key on a computer keyboard. A 2-s blank screen appeared in

between trials. In total the Stroop task consisted of 120 trials (no feedback about whether

responses were correct or incorrect was offered). There were 40 congruent trials, 40 neutral

trials, and 40 incongruent trials presented randomly. Reaction times to the incongruent trials

were subtracted from reaction times to the congruent trials. As is typical, the distribution was

skewed and was therefore transformed using a reciprocal transformation; higher scores indicate

more cognitive load.

Nonverbal behavior. Three nonverbal behaviors known to be robustly associated

with the stress response were coded: self-touches (Harrigan, Lucic, Kay, McLaney, & Rosenthal,

1990; Harrigan, Wilson, & Rosenthal, 2004), anxious smiles (Hall, Carney, & Murphy, 2002;

Harrigan & Taing, 1997; Harrigan, Wilson, & Rosenthal, 2004) and lip bites (Ekman & Friesen,

1978; Ekman & Rosenberg, 1997). These variables were coded as frequency counts. All

variables were coded reliably by two coders who overlapped on a subset of 10% of the videos.


Only the first min of each 5 min speech was coded (Carney, Colvin, & Hall, 2007; Murphy,

2005). Inter-rater reliabilities for all variables were sufficient (self-touches were r = .95; anxious

smiles were r = .99; lip bites were r = 1.0).

Results

We predicted that power would buffer individuals from the stress response typical of

social evaluative situations. We tested this hypothesis by examining cortisol reactivity and

recovery, self-reported stress response, cognitive load, and nonverbal indications of the stress

response. The a priori analytical approach was to test the planned contrast sequence expecting

that when stressed, high-power individuals would appear as if they were not experiencing stress

—that they would “look” like unstressed individuals across all measures. As such, we specified a

contrast weight sequence of 3, -1, -1, -1 (low-power+stress = 3; high-power+stress = -1; low-

power+unstressed = -1; high-power+unstressed = -1). The only exception was with the cortisol

data, which included 3 points in time. Thus, to examine the stress-buffering effect of power on

cortisol reactivity to a social stressor, we conducted a 2 (power) x 2 (stress) x 3 (cortisol at 3

points in time: baseline, reactivity, recovery) mixed-model ANOVA.

Did Power Buffer Cortisol Reactivity after the Stressor?

As hypothesized, there was a small but statistically significant 3-way interaction, F(2, 48)

= 3.23, p < .05, η2 = .12. Figure 1 contains two panels in which the raw cortisol means are

displayed. Panel A displays the results for the low-stress condition in which no evaluators were

present. Cortisol at 3 points in time is graphed separately for the low-power and high-power

participants. Consistent with expectations, when not stressed, normal downward sloping of

cortisol across time is observed (due to typical diurnal variation in cortisol across the day;


Kudielka, et al., 2004).3 The means in the high-stress condition (Panel B) suggests a pattern in

which low-power individuals showed cortisol reactivity from Time 1 to Time 2 but then

recovered. The high-power individuals, on the other hand, did not show cortisol reactivity—the

means across the three points in time suggest they may have been buffered from the stress

response. No support was found for the alternative hypothesis that power leads to a faster return

to homeostasis after a stressor. No pair-wise comparisons were statistically significant (ps > .20).

Did Power Buffer Self-Reported Feelings of the Stress Response?

There was a significant effect of the planned contrast suggesting that the low-power

individuals in the high-stress condition reported feeling more stressed than other participants,

t(48) = 2.64, p < .02, effect size r = .38. Figure 2 displays the means for the low- and high-

power participants across both stress (low-stress and high-stress) conditions. While the means

and the overall effect was consistent with the hypothesis, pairwise analyses revealed some

complexities: low-power+high-stress individuals did not report significantly more stress than

those in the high-power+high-stress condition (p < .14) or those in the low-power+low-stress

condition. (p < .16) but did report more stress than those in the high-power+low-stress condition

(p < .001). High-power+high-stress individuals reported less overall stress than both low- and

high-power low-stress individuals (ps < .03). No other tests were significant (p > .94).

Did Power Impact Nonverbal Indications of the Stress Response?

Consistent with the hypothesis that power buffers stress, the high-power participants

exhibited fewer nonverbal indications of the stress response relative to the low-power

participants. Figure 3 displays the means for the effect of power (low vs. high) and degree of

3 There was one significant outlier (scores on cortisol were: 3.9 SDs above the mean at Time 1, 1.64 SDs at time 2, and 2.62 SDs at time 3). Scores across the 3 points in time were significantly higher than others’ scores and skewed the distribution considerably. Thus, this single participant’s cortisol data were removed from analysis. As is typical, temporal variability between the manipulation and cortisol measurement was statistically controlled for.


stress (low vs. high) on the nonverbal display of stress; higher scores meaning more stress

behavior, t(48) = 2.38, p < .03, effect size r = .34. Pairwise tests revealed that low-power

individuals in the high-stress condition were not more nonverbally stressed than high-power

individuals in the high-stress condition (p < .15), but they were more nonverbally stressed than

low-power individuals in the low-stress condition (p < .06) and high-power individuals in the

low-stress condition (p < .02); no other contrasts were statistically significant (ps > .30).

Did Power Impact Cognitive Load Following the Speech Task?

We predicted that cognitive performance would be debilitated after a stressor such as the

social-evaluative task. However, we did not find any effect of the stress manipulation on

cognitive performance nor did power influence variability across the 4 conditions—all were

essentially at zero (low-power stress: M = -.06, SD = .11; high-power stress: M = -.08; SD = .27;

low-power low-stress: M = -.01; SD = .03; high-power low-stress: M = -.05; SD = .16; p > .76).

None of the pairwise comparisons were statistically significant (all ps > .25).

Discussion

Experiment 1 suggests that power may buffer the stress response to social evaluative

stressors like giving a public speech. Results also suggest that power is indeed providing some

kind of buffer which is preventing stress reactivity. The lack of an effect on cognitive load in

Experiment 1 suggests the stress-buffering effect of power may be limited to more affective

systems (e.g., feelings, cortisol reactivity, and facial expressions). Experiment 1 demonstrated

that possessing power (vs. lacking it) reduces the stress response to a psychological stressor. In

Experiment 2 we predicted that this effect would generalize to physical stressors. We expected to

find evidence for our hypothesis across feelings, cognition, physiology, and nonverbal behavior.

Experiment 2: Power Buffers the Stress Response to a Physical Stressor


The primary goal of Experiment 2 was to test the prediction that high-power individuals

would be more buffered than low-power individuals from the stress response to a physical insult

(i.e., a physical stressor) which is the second half of the definition of stress (Selye, 1936).

Participants engaged in a 10 min role-play manipulation of power (high and low). Following the

power manipulation, participants were asked to submerge a hand and lower arm into a bucket of

ice water (i.e., the “Cold Pressor Task;” Hines & Brown, 1932). Participants were told they could

remove their hand as soon as was desired and all agreed to remove the hand as soon as they

wanted. The power-buffers-stress hypothesis predicted that power would lead participants to

experience less stress and pain and to leave their hand in the water longer. An alternative

prediction comes from the power-disinhibition idea (Keltner et al., 2003; Hirsh, Galinsky, &

Zhong, 2011). This perspective would predict that power should lead to action that is the least

inhibited and most self-interested; arguably the least inhibited and most self-interested act when

one’s hand is freezing in a bucket of ice water is to remove the hand as quickly as possible. In

addition to the primary dependent variable of “time in water,” we measured physiological stress

response, self-reported pain experience, cognitive impairment, and nonverbal indications of pain.

Method


Seventy paid participants (53 women) were recruited from Columbia University (Mage =

22.54 yrs). Experiment 2 was a 2-group design examining the effects of power (low vs. high) on

the stress response during a physical stress test.

Manipulation of Legitimate Power

Standard power manipulation protocols used in both psychological science and

behavioral economics were merged to form one very impactful manipulation. Research suggests


that to appropriately and effectively manipulate power, that power must be perceived as

legitimate by all parties involved (e.g., Anderson & Berdahl, 2002; Lammers, Galinsky, Gordijn,

& Otten, 2008). Thus, Experiment 2 began with participants first completing a “Leadership

Questionnaire” (adapted from Anderson & Berdahl) which asked participants to describe their

leadership experiences through responding to a number of open-ended questions. After

completing the questionnaire, the experimenters then, ostensibly, assigned participants to the role

of leader (high-power) or subordinate (low-power) best suited for them based on the

questionnaire. In actuality, role was randomly assigned. The high- and low-power individuals

then formed a compensation committee that decided bonuses for three individuals by working

together in a pair. Final decisions were made by the high-power participant who also decided

how much (if any) of a $20 “paycheck” would be paid to the low-power participant in an

additional “dictator game” power manipulation (Sivanathan, Pillutla, & Murnighan, 2008). To

make the power manipulation even more impactful and ecologically valid, the high-power

participant was given duplicate copies of the three candidates’ resumes and was in a big office.

When the high-power participant was ready for the low-power participant, s/he hollered for the

low-power person who was across the hall in a very small office. The compensation committee

meeting was directed by the high-power participant and lasted approximately 10 mins. After the

meeting the high-power participant sent the low-power participant back to his/her office while

the high-power participant recorded final decisions and how much of the $20 to pay the low-

power participant. Additionally, during the ice water submersion task, high-power individuals

were instructed to rest their arms on the exterior edge of the arm rest and low-power rested on

the interior edge.


The same 8 items assessing self-reported power used in Experiment 1 were used in

Experiment 2: dominant, in control, in charge, high status, like a leader, and powerful plus two

reverse-scored items: subordinate and submissive (each rated on 5-point scales). Individuals in

the high-power condition felt more powerful (M = 3.34; SD = .71) than those in the low-power

condition (M = 3.00; SD = .64), F(1, 64) = 3.99, p < .05; effect size r = .25.

Physical Stressor: The Ice Water Submersion Test

An ice water submersion test is a physical stressor (first described by Hines & Brown,

1932; but also by Efran, Chorney, Ascher, & Lukens, 1989; Ferracuti, Seri, Mattia, & Cruccu,

1994; Kelly, Ashleigh, & Beversdorf, 2007; Lovallo, 1975). Prior to hand placement,

participants were told they could remove their hand/arm as soon as they wanted. Each

participant’s non-dominant hand and forearm was then placed into an ice water bath. The ice

water bath temperature was kept at approximately 47.97 degrees Fahrenheit (varying from 42 to

55).4 There was no significant difference in temperature between the low- (M = 47.56; SD =

2.72) and high-power (M = 47.94; SD = 2.77) conditions: F(1, 64) = 0.31, p > .58. As

recommended by previous research, the water tub contained a screen separating the ice from the

submerging pool. A circulating fan kept the water a uniform temperature, which a thermometer

continuously confirmed. Participants were videotaped during the ice water submersion task, and

duration of submersion was unobtrusively measured with a stopwatch. Room-temperature in the

lab and the weather outside were highly variable (both were measured and statistically

controlled-for).

4 This temperature was determined by the authors testing the water themselves and deciding that the initial cold temperature of 35 degrees Fahrenheit (used in previous research) was excruciatingly cold (and painful) and one author could only keep her hand in the water for less than 5 seconds. Thus, the temperature of the water was raised to a level that was still very cold and physically demanding but not excruciatingly painful.


Measures of Self-Reported Pain, Cognitive Load, and Nonverbal Expression of

Pain

Self-reported pain. To assess participants’ pain level during the ice water submersion

task pain ratings were made every 10 seconds on a 10-point scale from 0 (no pain at all) to 10

(excruciating pain). Most of the participants (95%) kept their hand in the ice water for at

least 10 seconds. By 40 seconds only 38% of the participants’ hands remained in the water.

Beyond 40 seconds the percentages were too low to derive reliable estimates (by 60 seconds

almost all participants had retracted). Thus, four points in time (10s, 20s, 30s, and 40s) were

modeled.

Cognitive load. Cognitive load was measured with the same key-press Stroop task

described in detail in the methods section of Experiment 1. Higher scores indicated more

cognitive load.

Nonverbal behavior. Nonverbal items from a medical index of pain were used to

code the nonverbal expression of pain (Nonverbal Pain Checklist; Feldt, 2000). The three

nonverbal indicators (two items from the checklist were verbal and were excluded) from this

checklist were reliably coded (a second coder coded 10% of the participants) for each subject for

the entire duration of the cold water submersion: bracing (r = 1.0), restless motion (r = .98), and

nonverbal lip bite/grimace (r = .72). A fourth variable was coded, rubbing the self, but not

observed in any participant. Consistent with Experiment 1, a principal component was

constructed (accounting for 49.18% of the variance). Higher numbers indicate more nonverbal

pain expression.

Hormone Measurement, Assays, and Calculation of Reactivity to Physical

Stress


We examined cortisol (as in Experiment 1); saliva collection and hormone assay

procedures were exactly the same as in Experiment 1. Approximately 10 mins after arrival,

participants provided the first sample and the second sample was taken approximately 17 mins

after the end of the ice water submersion task (SD = 38 secs; range = 14 to 19 mins with 91% of

the sample at exactly 17 mins). Cortisol was assayed once (10% in duplicate). The intra-assay

coefficient of variation (CV) across the two points in time was 2.53 %. Cortisol levels at baseline

were in the normal range (M = 0.18 µg/dL, SD = .12). Cortisol at Time 2 was regressed on Time

1 and the standardized residuals were used as the dependent measure (Thuma, Gilders, Verdum,

& Loucks, 1995). The amount of time that passed between the CPT manipulation and the second

saliva sample did not differ across conditions: a one-way ANOVA across the 2 conditions

revealed no significant variance from the grand mean of 17.02 mins, F(1, 63) = 0.14, p > .70.

Results

We predicted that high- versus low-power participants would be relatively more

impervious to a physical stressor. Specifically, it was predicted that high-power (vs. low) would

be buffered from the physical stress response allowing people to longer endure a physical

stressor. We also expected high-power participants to report feeling less physical pain, show less

cortisol reactivity, less cognitive load following physical insult, and exhibit fewer nonverbal

signs on pain. All tests used an ANOVA model comparing high-power to low-power

participants. Covariates are explicitly noted in the appropriate section.

Did Power Buffer the onset of Pain in the Physical Stress Test?

As predicted by the power-buffers-stress hypothesis, individuals in the high-power

condition left their hand and arm in the ice-cold water 45 seconds longer (M = 101.19 secs; SD =

96.74) than the low-power individuals (M = 56.57; SD = 59.40), F(1, 61) = 4.45, p < .04; effect


size r = .27. Room temperature and outside temperature have both been shown to significantly

impact responses to the ice water thus both temperatures were used as covariates in the analysis.

Did Power Mitigate Cortisol Reactivity?

Inconsistent with Experiment 1, there was no main effect of power on cortisol, F(1, 62)

= .0003, p > .92. effect size r = .28.

Did Power Buffer Self-Reported Pain in the Physical Stress Test?

There was no main effect of power on self-reported pain across the 4-points in time, F(1,

61) = .77, p > .39; however, there was an interaction between power and pain across the 4-points

in time, which was quadratic in shape. This interaction shows that low-power individuals have a

U-shaped distribution of pain experience across time whereas the high-power individuals have an

inverted U-shaped distribution of pain experience across time. Figure 4 illustrates the quadratic

interaction between power and the self-reported experience of pain: F(1, 61) = 7.32, p < .02;

effect size r = .35. Consistent with the theorizing, low-power individuals reported experiencing

more pain than the high-power individuals both at the beginning and the end of the 40-secs.

Did Power Buffer the Effects of the Physical Stress Test on Cognitive Load?

Consistent with Experiment 1, there was no main effect of power on cognitive load.

Three outliers that were more than 3 SDs above or below the mean were removed. High-power

individuals appeared equally as cognitively impaired (M = .01; SD = .22) as low-power

individuals (M = -.06; SD = .19); F(1, 60) = 1.70, p > .19.

Did Power Buffer the Nonverbal Expression of Pain During the Physical Stress

Test?

Controlling for time in the water, there was a main effect of power on the nonverbal

display of pain such that high-power individuals displayed significantly less (M = -.16; SD


= .74) than did low-power individuals (M = .16; SD = 1.20), F(1, 64) = 4.33, p < .05; effect size

r = .26.

Discussion

Experiment 2 found some evidence that power buffers the stress response to a physical

insult. The high-power individuals kept their hands in the ice water longer which supports the

stress-buffing account (and suggests no evidence for disinhibition). Like Experiment 1, this

experiment suggests that power can buffer stress, leading to arguably positive social

consequences. This finding on pain is also consistent with work by Bohns and Wiltermuth

(2012), which found that natural postural expansiveness (in response to another person’s

contractiveness; Tiedens & Fragale, 2003) increases how uncomfortable one perceives a blood

pressure cuff to be. In Experiment 2, the finding that cortisol did not react to the physical insult is

consistent with research found after this experiment was completed. Physical stressors such as

the ice water submersion task do not commonly elicit a strong or consistent cortisol response (al’

Absi et al., 2002; Duncko et al., 2007; Gluck et al., 2004; Lustyk, Olson, Gerrish, Holder, &

Widman, 2010; McRae et al., 2006; Schwabe & Wolf, 2010).

Experiments 1 and 2 demonstrated that power buffers the stress response associated with

beneficial or acceptable acts. In Experiment 3, we were interested in whether power would buffer

the stress response associated with engaging in a dishonest act. Specifically, we were interested

in whether one of the pathways through which power leads to corruption is through the stress-

buffering mechanism observed in Experiments 1 and 2.

Experiment 3: Will Power Buffer the Stress Response to a High-Stakes

Deception?


Telling a lie is stressful. While humans lie for many different reasons, including to

protect feelings, claim undue resources, project a false self-image, manipulate, or coerce (e.g.,

DePaulo, Kashy, Kirkendol, Wyer, & Epstein, 1996), telling a lie is emotionally, cognitively,

and physiologically costly. The liar must actively inhibit and suppress the truth and any behavior

indicative of it (in addition to their own moral compass, social norms, fear of consequence,

consideration of others’ interests, etc. This suppression leads to emotional distress (Ekman,

O’Sullivan, Friesen, & Scherer, 1991; Vrij, 2001; Vrij, Semin, & Bull, 1986), impaired cognitive

function (Spence, Farrow, Leung, Shah, Reilly, Rahman, & Herford, 2003; Spence, Hunter,

Farrow, Green, Leung, Hughes, & Ganesan, 2004; Vrij et al), and a physiological stress response

(Iacono, 2007, 2008; Vrij et al). The nonverbal indications of suppression are often referred to as

“nonverbal leakage” or “tells.” “Tells” are subtle and emitted from the face, voice and body

(Ekman & Friesen, 1969; Ekman & Friesen, 1974; Ekman & O’Sullivan, 2006; DePaulo et al.,

1996; DePaulo, Lindsay, Malone, Muhlenbruck, Charlton, & Cooper, 2003; Vrij, 2001).

We tested the hypothesis that power would buffer the emotional, cognitive and

physiological stress of telling a lie. Participants were assigned to either a high- or a low-power

condition using the same role manipulation+dictator game+physical space manipulation used in

Experiment 2. From the criminal justice and deception literatures we borrowed a “high-stakes

mock crime” paradigm (e.g., Kircher, Horowitz, & Raskin, 1988) in which participants stole or

did not steal a $100 bill and were interrogated about the alleged transgression, on videotape, by

an experimenter (50% were lying and 50% were telling the truth). If successful at convincing the

experimenter they did not steal the money, the participants were able to keep the $100. Multiple

methods were used to assess participants’ degree of emotional, cognitive, and physiological

stress. We predicted that the powerful would not report lying to be any less wrong than the


powerless as suggested by previous research (e.g., Lammers et al., 2008; Gruenfeld et al., 2008;

Kipnis, 1972; Kozak, Marsh, & Wegner, 2006; Sorokin & Lundin, 1959). And we predicted that

high-power (vs. low-power) would enhance the same emotional, cognitive and physiological

systems that stressors such as lying deplete. As in Experiments 1 and 2, we predicted that power

would buffer the stress response to telling a lie and this would be evident across measures of

self-reported emotion, cognitive load, cortisol reactivity, and fewer nonverbal “tells.”

Method


Fifty paid participants (30 female) were recruited from Columbia University. The

experiment was a 2 (high power vs. low power) x 2 (lie-telling vs. truth-telling) between-subjects

design. Three participants were removed prior to analysis for not following study instructions

(one person stole the money when he was instructed not to and two people gave false confessions

to stealing the money when they did not).

Manipulation of Legitimate Power

The same experimental manipulation of legitimate power used in Experiment 2 was used

in Experiment 3 (i.e., the enhanced version of Anderson & Berdahl, 2002). By way of reminder,

this power manipulation included a “leadership questionnaire” to make participants feel that the

power assignment was legitimate when it was, in fact, randomly assigned. Participants were

assigned to be either the high-power or low-power person in a 10 min compensation committee

meeting. The high-power person had power over the social and economic outcomes of the low-

power person. In other words, the high-power person made all decisions and was responsible for

dividing up a $20 paycheck. A check of the power manipulation confirmed that those in the

high-power role felt more powerful (a composite variable comprised of: dominant, in control, in


charge, high status, like a leader, and powerful—each rated on 5-point scales; M = 2.89; SE

= .16) than those in a low-power role (M = 2.34; SE = .17), F(1, 46) = 5.76, p < .05; effect size r

= .35.5

The High-Stakes Mock Crime

A “high-stakes mock crime paradigm” was borrowed from the criminal justice literature

(for reviews see, Kircher et al., 1988; Frank & Ekman, 2004; DePaulo et al., 2003). In the current

experiment, immediately after the power manipulation, participants were brought into enclosed

rooms. A randomly assigned experimenter sat down with each participant separately and

explained that they would have an opportunity to earn an additional $100 by convincing the

experimenter that they did not steal a $100 bill hidden in the testing room.

Participants were told that after the experimenter left the room, the computer would

randomly decide and then instruct the participant whether or not to steal the money. All

participants were equally incentivized—all were instructed to do their very best to convince the

experimenter that they did not steal the money - whether or not they actually did. This

high-stakes mock crime paradigm creates 50% liars and 50% truth-tellers who have the ability to

earn the $100 if they succeed at convincing the experimenter of their innocence. If the participant

(whether or not s/he was lying) could convince the experimenter (who was blind to lie vs. truth

condition) they did not steal the money, the participant would keep the $100 prize and would be

entered into a lottery to win an additional $500. The experimenter informed the participant that

in about 5 mins, he would come back into the room and conduct a videotaped interrogation.

All participants reported that they believed the experimenter had no knowledge of

whether they actually stole the money. To further encourage participants to believe in the

5 Note that Experiment 3 used only 6 of the 8 self-report power terms used in Experiments 1 and 2. Experiment 3 was actually the first experiment we conducted and we improved the self-report power measure for what are now Experiments 1 and 2 by expanding it to 8 items by including 2 reverse-scored items.


experimenters’ blindness, both the experimenter and participant discussed and signed a contract

together stating that the experimenter had no knowledge of whether or not the participant would

be assigned to steal or not steal the money.

After the high-stakes mock crime instructions were given to participants, the

experimenter left the testing room the participant received instructions. In the steal condition

participants read:

STEAL THE MONEY OUT OF THE ENVELOPE!!! Be very quiet.

Put the envelope and books back exactly as you found them. Put

the money ON YOU somewhere – pocket, sock, wherever but

make sure the experimenter can’t see it (obviously). When you

are done STEALING the money come back to the computer and

click ‘continue’.

No-steal condition participants read:

DO NOT steal the money in the envelope!!! Leave the

money in the envelope and put it back where you found it. Be

very quiet. Put the envelope and books back exactly as you

found them. When you are done putting the money and envelope

back in the books, come back to the computer and click

‘continue’.

After the mock theft, the experimenter entered the testing room and turned on a video

camera and proceeded to interrogate the participant by asking a series of questions. Both

experimenters were trained to ask all questions in an affectively neutral, firm manner.

Experimenters did not stray from the script that contained 10 questions. We predicted that high-


power liars would have the ability (emotionally, physiologically and cognitively) to inhibit the

typical nonverbal “tells” associated with lying. We coded the videotapes for nonverbal behaviors

both during responses to “lie questions” (i.e., those questions pertaining to the mock theft about

which liars will lie) and “baseline questions” (i.e., neutral questions not pertaining to the mock

theft about which were verifiable; DePaulo et al., 2003; Karim, Schneider, Lotze1, Veit,

Sauseng, Braun, & Birbaumer, 2010; Kircher et al., 1988).

The baseline questions had verifiable answers and included: “what are you wearing

today?” and “what is the weather like outside?” The lie questions were adapted from Frank and

Ekman (2004) and included, “did you steal the money?” and “why should I believe you?” and

“are you lying to me now?” Immediately after the video recorded interrogation, participants

completed the manipulation check, measures of emotional distress, the Stroop task, and the

second saliva sample (the first one was taken after arrival to the laboratory).

Emotional Distress, Cognitive Load, Cortisol Reactivity, and Behavior

Emotional distress. Four emotion terms were rated on 7-point scales: bashful, guilty,

troubled, and scornful. The four emotion terms were submitted to a principal component analysis

to create a factor score (the factor accounted for 46.16% of the variance). Higher scores indicated

more distress.

Cognitive load. The same key-press Stroop task used in both Experiments 1 and 2 was

used in Experiment 3.

Hormone Sampling and Assays. Saliva samples were collected in exactly the

same basic manner as Experiments 1 and 2. A baseline saliva sample was taken from participants

approximately 10 mins after arrival. Approximately 27 mins after the beginning of the lie

manipulation, the second saliva sample was taken (SD = 5 mins; range = 17 to 37 mins). As was


the case in Experiments 1 and 2, variability in time between the lie manipulation and the second

saliva sample was controlled for. The intra-assay coefficient of variation (CV) was 5.6 %.

Cortisol levels were in the normal range (M = 0.13 µg/dL, SD = .10). Time 2 cortisol scores

were regressed on time 1 scores, and the standardized residuals were used in analysis (Thuma,

Gilders, Verdum, & Loucks, 1995). The amount of time that passed between the interrogation

and the second saliva sample did not differ across conditions, F(3, 42) = 0.99, p > .40.

Behavioral Coding. The interrogations were coded for the 8 best (i.e., most robust

across published reports) nonverbal correlates of deception. Six of the 8 cues were harvested

from a meta-analysis on nonverbal cues to deception by DePaulo et al. (2003). Two variables

were taken from work by Ekman (Ekman & Friesen, 1969, Ekman, Friesen, & Scherer, 1976)

and from Buller (2005). A rapid, one-sided (i.e., partial) shoulder shrug was one of the behaviors

coded. Four additional “molar” variables (i.e., more global variables rated by condition-blind

coders) have been shown repeatedly to indicate deception and are ratings of: cooperativeness,

immediacy (which is a word from the nonverbal literature, which indicates an amalgam of

warmth/intimacy/interest), nervousness, and vocal uncertainty. Three molecularly coded

variables (i.e., coded in seconds or by counts) were: accelerated prosody (calculated by taking

the number of syllables and dividing them by the number of seconds, which passed during the

utterances; Buller, 2005), lip presses (counts), and speaking time (in seconds).

Behaviors were coded separately during responses to each interrogation question. Inter-

rater reliability was determined by two coders who rated the same subset of videos (28%). After

inter-rater reliability was established, one of the coders went on to rate the remaining videos. A

total of 5 different coders coded the 8 behaviors (some coded more than one behavior). Table 1

lists the 8 behaviors, a brief description of each, the expected relation to deception for each, and


the inter-rater reliability for each. All statistical analyses examined behavior during the lie

questions minus behavior during the control questions (i.e., Δbehavior). Analyses were

conducted on each behavior separately and on an overall composite variable of “deception tells”

(the principal component accounted for 26% of the variance).

Results

We predicted that all participants (high and low-power alike) would believe that telling a

lie was generally wrong but that regardless, power would buffer individuals from the emotional,

cognitive, and physiological stress of lying. Again, the a priori contrast weight sequence of 3, -

1, -1, -1 was used for all outcome variables across low-power liars, high-power liars, low-power

truth-tellers, and high-power truth-tellers (respectively).

Did Power Influence the Sense that Lying Was Wrong?

Power did not shift participants’ sense of morality. All believed lying was wrong on a 1

(always wrong) to 6 (never wrong) scale and there were no differences among low-power

liars (M = 1.62; SD = 1.04), high-power liars (M = 1.75; SD = 1.60), low-power truth-tellers (M

= 1.67; SD = .89), and high-power truth-tellers (M = 1.80; SD = 1.03), F(3. 46) = 0.46, p > .98.

These results are inconsistent with previous research which found that high-power (vs. low-

power) individuals report their own indiscretions to be less wrong (e.g., Lammers et al., 2010).

Do High-Power Liars Experience Less Emotional Distress?

We first tested whether there was support for the power-buffers-stress hypothesis on a

self-report measure of emotional distress. Consistent with the general prediction that power

would provide a buffer from emotional distress resulting from lying, only low-power liars

reported emotional distress; in contrast, high-power liars—like the truth-tellers—reported no

emotional distress after the mock crime and lie, t(43) = 2.53, p < .02; effect size r = .39. Figure


5 shows the means across the four groups. Pairwise tests revealed that, as expected, low-power

liars were significantly more distressed than high-power liars (p < .05), low-power truth-tellers

(p < .08), and high-power truth-tellers (p < .03); no other contrasts were statistically significant

(ps > .57).

Do High-Power Liars Experience Less Evidence of Cognitive Load after Lying?

We next tested whether power buffers against cognitive load following a lie. Consistent

with the power-buffers-stress hypothesis, high-power liars and truth-tellers (as compared to low-

power liars) had significantly lower levels of cognitive load following the lie, t(43) = 2.57, p

< .02; r = .39. Figure 6 shows the means. Pairwise tests revealed that, as expected, low-power

liars were more cognitively loaded than high-power liars (p < .06), low-power truth-tellers (p

< .07), and high-power truth-tellers (p < .03); no other contrasts were statistically significant (ps

> .61). Research suggests that not all stressors are created equally (Blascovich & Tomaka, 1996;

Dickerson & Kemeney, 2004) and as such can have different downstream effects. This result

suggests that something unique about the stress of telling a lie causes cognitive load; whereas the

kinds of stress experienced in Experiments 1 and 2 did not cause cognitive load.

Does Power Buffer against the Stress Response to Lie-Telling?

Consistent with the power-buffers-stress hypothesis and the results observed on measures

of emotion and cognitive load, again it was found that high-power liars—like truth-tellers—

demonstrated significantly less cortisol reactivity to the lie-telling stressor, t(46) = 2.10, p < .05;

r = 32. Figure 7 shows cortisol levels at time 2 controlling for time 1. Pairwise tests revealed that

while the means revealed a difference in the predicted direction, low-power liars were not

significantly more stressed than high-power liars (p < .34), but as expected were more stressed


than low-power truth-tellers (p < .06), and high-power truth-tellers (p < .05); no other contrasts

were statistically significant (ps > .25).

Do High-Power Liars Express Fewer Signs of Deception?

We predicted that high-power (vs. low) would not show nonverbal signs of deception.

Consistent with the power-buffers-stress hypothesis, Figure 8 illustrates the same pattern as was

observed across the other measures. High-power liars—like truth-tellers—evidence very few

nonverbal signs of deception on the composite nonverbal variable (a principal component

comprised of all 8 variables: accelerated prosody, cooperativeness, immediacy, lip presses,

nervousness, one-sided shoulder shrugs, speaking time, and vocal uncertainty). Only the low-

power liars relative to the other 3 groups expressed nonverbal distress in a manner similar to

previous research on the nonverbal cues associated with deception, t(43) = 2.58, p < .02; r = .39.

Pairwise tests revealed that, as expected, low-power liars were significantly more nonverbally

revealing than high-power liars (p < .03), low-power truth-tellers (p < .06), and high-power

truth-tellers (p < .07); no other contrasts were statistically significant (ps > .74).

To further investigate the stress-buffering impact of power on the leakage of nonverbal

indications of mental conflict and physiological stress, each of the eight nonverbal behaviors was

examined separately and all are depicted in Figure 9.

Panels A, B, C, and D show, again, that high-power liars—like truth-tellers—exhibit few

nonverbal tells of deception on accelerated prosody, lip presses, one-sided shoulder shrugs, and

vocal uncertainty. The planned contrast comparing low-power liars to the rest of the individuals

was statistically significant for each of these nonverbal behaviors (p < .05). Interestingly, panel

E shows that there may be one nonverbal tell that differentiates high-power liars from the others:

High-power liars expressed less immediacy (i.e., more coldness, less intimacy, and less interest)


when lying versus when telling the truth (p < .05). This is very interesting and may mean that

when lying, high-power liars are more emotionally cold and distant—an affective state entirely

consistent with the power-buffers-stress hypothesis—which gives rise to the appearance of less

warmth and engagement. Panel F shows that for cooperativeness, only a main effect of lie vs.

truth was observed. A post-hoc t-test revealed that truth-tellers were more cooperative than

liars (p < .05; no other contrasts, main effects, or interactions were statistically significant).

Panels G and H show no differences among the four groups on nervousness or speaking time.

Discussion

Experiment 3 provided support for the hypothesis that power can buffer the stress

response associated with stressors such as telling a lie—a behavior that is often accompanied by

negative social consequences. These data suggest that possessing power may render lie-telling

less emotionally, cognitively, and physiologically difficult. This stress-buffering pattern emerged

robustly across multiple indices of stress-reactivity – emotional distress, cognitive impairment,

cortisol reactivity, and nonverbal cues of deception. Power, it seems, enhances the very same

systems that lie-telling depletes.

General Discussion

Three experiments suggest that power may enhance our ability to endure stressors such

as: braving a public speech (Study 1) and surviving a physical insult (Study 2). Withstanding

stress in these contexts is generally considered desirable, adaptive, and can lead to positive social

consequences. But power may also bring with it the ability to endure the stress associated with

more nefarious activities such as lying about a theft under interrogation (Study 3). Prior research

indicates that power increases the tendency to be pro-social, optimistic, approach-oriented and

happy (Anderson & Galinsky, 2006; DeCremer & Van Knippenberg, 2002; Galinsky et al.,


2003; Griskevicius et al., 2010; Harbaugh, 1998; Keltner et al., 2003). And at the same time

power increases the tendency to cheat, steal, lie, and engage in extramarital shenanigans (e.g.,

Boles et al., 2000; Lammers et al., 2010; Lammers et al., 2011; Yap et al., 2013). Together the

present findings point to the possibility that a common stress-buffering mechanism may explain

how power leads to these numerous pro- and anti-social behaviors reported in the scientific

literature. Below, we discuss the theoretical implications of the present findings, we propose

some physiological and neural pathways that may subserve the relation between power and

behavior, and we offer several new directions for future work.

The Link between Power and (Dis)Inhibition

The present results nudge us in the direction of thinking more about the expected relation

between power and inhibition. The results presented here hint at some circumstances under

which power may lead to more inhibition. Keltner et al.’s (2003) Approach-Inhibition theory of

power unifies the effects of power by demonstrating that power leads to a general state of

approach orientation: the powerful act. So far, research is supportive of the link between power

and approach. There are many results demonstrating this link but the most central ones show the

powerful (vs. the powerless) to be more likely to turn off an annoying fan in an experiment and

to choose to “hit” in a game of blackjack regardless of hand (e.g., Galinsky et al., 2003;

Lammers et al., 2008). The link between power and approach is also consistent with the current

report. However, the current report did not find support for the idea that power leads to

disinhibition – in fact, we found some evidence for the opposite. Specifically, our results

revealed that high-power individuals (vs. low) are more likely and able to inhibit nonverbal tells

associated with deception (Experiment 3) and more likely to inhibit the automatic response of

recoiling from pain (Experiment 2). In light of the current results, it is noteworthy to point out


that there is not yet a great deal of evidence for the link between power and disinhibition. We

think it might be worthwhile to think about power-approach as a separate phenomenon from

power-disinhibition even though past research suggests they are opposite ends of the same

continuum (Carver & White, 1994). The reason is that – despite our theories and intuitions

strongly suggesting a link—there just isn’t much empirical support for the idea that more power

leads to less inhibition. The evidence that does exist includes: one unpublished paper (Ward &

Keltner, 1998), one self-report DV (Lammers, Galinsky, Gordijn, & Otten, 2008), and one

arguably opposite finding (DePaulo & Friedman, 1998) as compared to many published and

replicated findings demonstrating the link between power and approach. Hirsh and colleagues

(2011) put forth a theoretical piece about the link between power and disinhibition and

described a number of compelling studies which should be conducted and which could shed

some much-needed light on whether or not power really leads to disinhibition.

The Link between Power and Threat-Challenge

Another important theoretical framework to consider is challenge/threat (Blascovich &

Tomaka, 1996; Mendes, Blascovich, Hunter, Lickel, & Jost, 2007). This theorizing differentiates

“good stress”, which leads to an approach motivation, from “bad stress,” which leads to an avoid

motivation. While both kinds of stress are, in fact, stress, the psychological state of challenge (vs.

threat) is caused by an individual appraising a situation as one in which available resources

outweigh demands. It is easy to imagine power leading to general appraisals that are more

challenge-oriented than threat-oriented , and, one recent paper showed a link between power and

challenge (vs. threat) (Scheepers, de Wit, Ellemers, & Sassenberg, 2011).

Possible Mechanisms for the Power-Buffers-Stress Hypothesis


There are a number of possible pathways that may explain the route(s) through which

power buffers individuals from the stress response. Here, we briefly suggest four pathways that

might be fruitful avenues to investigate: (1) power increases testosterone, which then suppresses

cortisol, (2) power increases testosterone, which then affects approach/avoid decisions in

vmPFC, (3) power and hemispheric lateralization, (4) power and reward pathway activation.

These pathways may also work simultaneously or interact with each other.

Power Increases Testosterone, Which Then Suppresses Cortisol. One

potential pathway involves increases in anabolic hormones and their suppressive effects on

catabolic hormones. In the animal kingdom, testosterone both determines and reflects power.

Alpha animals are significantly higher on androgen hormones, such as testosterone, than more

subordinate animals. This is seen in many different species from zebrafish, golden hamsters, and

prairie voles, to chimpanzees and humans (e.g., Larson, O’Malley, & Melloni, 2006; Mazur &

Booth, 1998; Melloni, Connor, Hang, Harrison, & Ferris, 1997; Sapolsky, 2005). Experimental

evidence demonstrates that various types of power acquisition in the lab (including physical

displays, vicarious acquisition of power, and first-hand acquisition) can boost testosterone levels

within 15 minutes (Bernhardt, Dabbs, Fielden, & Lutter, 1998; Booth, Shelley, Mazur, Tharp, &

Kittok, 1989; Carney et al., 2010). Testosterone has a complex relation with cortisol. However,

to oversimplify, testosterone can be a cortisol antagonist and when testosterone is high it can

work to keep cortisol levels down; likewise, higher levels of cortisol inhibit the secretion of

testosterone (Archer, 2006; Mazur & Booth, 1998; Sapolsky, 2005). Future work should test the

extent to which testosterone mediates the effects of power on stress.

Testosterone and Appraisal. A related mechanism for power’s role in stress

buffering is through interactions among neural systems previously implicated in stress and


affective processing such as ventromedial prefrontal cortex (vmPFC) and amygdala (e.g., Urry,

van Reekum, Johnstone, Kalin, Thurow, Schaefer, Jackson, Frye, Greischar, Alexander, &

Davidson, 2006). vmPFC is associated with the tagging of affective stimulus effects as those to

approach or avoid in a context-dependent manner, and this region interacts with the amygdala to

guide physiological reactivity (Bechara, Damasio, Damasio, & Anderson, 1994; Damasio, 1996;

Damasio, 1999) such as the stress response. Amygdala activation is linked to heightened stress

responses, including stimulation of the HPA axis via the hypothalamus that ultimately releases

cortisol. Although there is little neuroscience research on the neural systems implicated in power

per se, indirect evidence involving testosterone suggests that power may buffer stress by

blunting vmPFC activity or disrupting functional connectivity between vmPFC and amygdala

(Van Wingen, 2010; although see a review describing the lack of connectivity between

amygdalar and frontopolar regions; Amodio & Frith, 2010). Specifically, research has shown

that high levels of testosterone inhibit the vmPFC from doing its job—potentially preventing it

from coding a thought or act as “avoid” in the first place (Mehta & Beer, 2010) which would

then prevent any HPA activation that may have otherwise resulted.

Power and Lateralization. Another possible mechanism is that power may lateralize

cognitive and affective processing by shifting decision making responsibilities to the left frontal

cortical area. This area seems to be highly linked to approach motivation and approach-related

affective states such as enthusiasm and anger (Harmon-Jones, Gable, & Peterson, 2010). The

basic architecture of this idea was recently supported by work showing that when in a powerful

(vs. a powerless) state, there is more activity in the left frontal cortex (Boksem, Smolders, &

Cremer, 2012). If power shifts processing to the left hemisphere and the left hemisphere is linked


to more stress-free approach motivation, perhaps the link between power and approach has a

simple lateralization explanation.

Power and the Reward Pathway. Another viable pathway could be one that relies

on the activation of reward circuitry in the brain driven by the neurotransmitter dopamine

(Keltner et al., 2003; discussions with Adam Galinsky and Wil Cunningham). Dopamine is

primarily found in what has come to be known as the “reward pathway” and includes the ventral

tegmental area (VTA) of the midbrain, the substantia nigra, and the arcuate nucleus of the

hypothalamus (the arcuate nucleus is also involved in a number of neuroendocrine functions;

Bouret, Draper, & Simerly, 2004). This pathway is activated in response to rewards (real,

imagined, or anticipated) and it is the magnitude of the reward—not its probability of occurring

—that stimulates the production and blocks reuptake of dopamine. As such, increases in

dopamine lead to increases in the reward-value of all things encountered (Schultz, 1998; Schultz,

Apicella, & Ljungberg, 1993; Schultz, Dayan, & Montague, 1997; Wise & Rompre, 1989)

regardless of the probability of occurrence (Fiorillo, Tobler, & Schultz, 2003; Hollerman &

Schultz, 1998; Satoh, Nakai, Sato, & Kimura, 2003) which leads to across-the-board

approach/action (Arias-Carrión & Pöppel, 2007; McClure, Daw, & Montague, 2003; Pessiglione

Seymour, Flandin, Dolan, Frith, & 2006).

Research suggests that increases in social power and higher social rank (both existing and

newly acquired power) are associated with increases in dopaminergic activity (Morgan, Grant,

Gage, Mach, Kaplan, Prioleau, Nader, Buchheimer, Ehrenkaufer, & Nader, 2002). Increases in

this activity results in increased resilience to physical stressors/pain tolerance (Jensen & Yaksh,

1984). Thus, another hypothesized biological pathway through which power may buffer stress is:

power leads to an increase in dopamine, dopamine acts on the reward pathway, all acts are coded


as potentially rewarding/should be approached which then leads to action with no aversive

biofeedback – thus no stress response occurs.

Future Directions

In addition to examining mechanisms in detail, three additional hypotheses emerge from

the power-buffers-stress hypothesis. Thinking beyond testing the basic generalizability of the

effect to other stressors, the power-buffers-stress hypothesis may affect basic perception, startle

and aversion learning, and have links to processes involved in psychopathology.

Perception. The power-buffers-stress hypothesis predicts that many actions – even

very difficult, psychologically and physically taxing ones - will be more likely to get a “green

light” by the brain. For example, research shows that experimentally induced happiness makes

hills seem less steep (Riener, Stefanucci, Proffitt, & Clore, 2003). We predict a similar effect

with power – one in which the perception of tasks and goals may be rendered more favorable.

For example, power may decrease estimates of difficulty and energy expended/required to

complete difficult and stressful tasks, such as the number of calories needed for a challenging

hike, the number of times one must go to the gym to lose weight, how easy it is to save money,

how steep a hill is, and even how far a lake is to the shore.

Startle and Aversion Learning. Power may mitigate the extent to which

stressful/threatening events will “prepare” the system for startle. This is not a prediction made by

approach-inhibition theory, but it is consistent with research showing that approach-related states

and traits, such as forward-leaning body postures and trait anger, lead to a reduced startle reflex

(e.g., Amodio, & Harmon-Jones, in press; Harmon-Jones, & Peterson, 2009). Related to the

possibility of an attenuated startle response, power may also slow down learning to anticipate

and/or avoid an aversive stimulus and lead to faster extinction of a learned aversion response.


Psychopathology. Some of the same phenomena observed in the current report and

predicted by the power-buffers-stress hypothesis are consistent with some of the consequences

and underlying mechanisms present in psychopathy. Psychopaths belong to a larger group of

individuals with antisocial personality disorder (ASPD). These individuals are characterized by

an inability to emotionally engage with others and by the repeated violation of others’ rights and

needs. Some mechanisms underlying these effects are shared with data and theorizing in the

current report. For example, psychopaths are unable to recognize threat, which significantly

reduces the stress response (Damasio, 2000; Ishikawa, Raine, Lencz, Bihrle, & Lacasse, 2001;

Motzkin, Newman, Kiehl, & Koenigs, 2011; Raine, Lencz, Bihrle, LaCasse, & Colletti, 2000).

This finding is also consistent with the effect of higher testosterone on lower empathy, slower

fear conditioning, and more antisocial behavior (Dabbs, Carr, Frady, & Riad, 1995; Dabbs &

Morris, 1990; Hermans, Putman, Baas, Gecks, Kenemans, & van Honk, 2007; Hermans, Putman,

Baas, Koppeschaar, & van Honk, 2006; Hermans, Putman, & Van Honk, 2006; Ronay &

Carney, 2013). Psychopaths also demonstrate an abnormally dampened fear conditioning

response (Birbaumer, Veit, Lotze, Erb, Hermann, Grodd, & Flor, 2005). It is also noteworthy to

mention that lesions of the orbitofrontal cortex (OFC) lead to less emotional engagement,

dampened fear conditioning, and repeated norm violations – a condition referred to as “acquired

sociopathy” (Tranel, 1994).

Possible Moderators

A number of moderator variables may dampen or reverse the stress-buffering effect of

power. In unstable hierarchies, the powerful are the most stressed (Brady et al., 1958). It is easy

to imagine that in unstable hierarchies, the effect observed here could be reversed. Variables

such as challenges to power and illegitimate power are viable entry points for testing this


question. Other phenomena may dampen the effect. Resource scarcity has been shown to cause

the powerful to behave like the powerless (Carney, DuBois, Nitchiporuk, ten Brinke, Rucker, &

Galinsky, 2013). Likewise, scarcity may dampen the stress-buffering effect of power.

Limitations

There are a few important limitations to the current research. First, across the three

experiments, the power manipulations appeared weak. Because the self-reported power items

(i.e., the manipulation check) always came after the stress, pain, or lie manipulation—we are

surprised the power manipulations were as strong as they were. Nevertheless, it is noteworthy

that feelings of power were somewhat low overall. Self-reported feelings of stress (in all cases)

were also somewhat weak and likely for the same reason—all of the self-report measures were

administered many minutes after the stress manipulations, saliva tests, and the Stroop measures.

Another limitation is the sub-optimal timing for some of the hormone measurements.

Specifically, a baseline saliva sample should be taken approximately 30 mins after arrival to the

laboratory, after the participant has had sufficient time to relax and habituate to the environment.

The initial samples were taken only 10 mins after arrival. However, all such decisions are trade-

offs and we opted for this sub-optimal approach to keep the experimental sessions under 90

mins; however, it should be noted that having done so likely increased the error variance in the

time 1 measurement thereby leading to type II error.

A third limitation is that any conclusions about the link between power and disinhibition

based on the current report should consider that proponents of this theoretical position would not

likely see the Cold Pressor paradigm to be an adequate test of the hypothesis. While participants

were specifically instructed to take their hands out of the water as soon as they wanted, one could


argue that participants were equally incentivized by the implicit social norms surrounding

being strong and resilient (especially for the men).

Implications of the Current Research

We are suggesting here that power—even when minimally endowed through a laboratory

manipulation—ignites a physiological trajectory of some kind, which results in a reduction of the

stress response. Our data, alongside other results across disciplines, suggest that a mind and brain

today is not the same mind and brain it will be once it is on power. It might be useful to think

about the acquisition of power as a chemically altering process that renders the brain and its

decision making different than it was before. If we learn from the time we are young that power

and status will change our brains, perhaps we can learn to best leverage the benefits of power

while simultaneously learning to develop better psychological and structural strategies to

safeguard ourselves, our families, our educational institutions, and our organizations from

power’s sometimes pernicious effects.


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Acknowledgements

The authors would like to thank many research assistants for their help conducting and coding

these studies including: Samantha Chu, Dean Duffy, Kyonne Isaac, Poruz Khambatta, Nikolai

Nitchiporuk, and Dayna Stimson. We would also like to thank many colleagues for the generous

help thinking about these ideas and providing useful feedback on earlier versions of this

manuscript: Daniel Ames, Cameron Anderson, Joel Brockner, Bertram Gawronski, Laura Kray,

Malia Mason, Michael Morris, James Palczynski, Barry Staw, and participants at the Duck

Conference on Social Cognition. We also thank Kerith Gardner, Chris Mayer, Gita Johar and

Columbia Business School more broadly for their generous and support for this research. All of

these studies were conducted while all authors were affiliated with Columbia University. This

research was supported by an NSF CAREER grant (1056194) to Dana R. Carney.


Table 1. Descriptions and Inter-Rater Reliabilities for the 8 Coded Nonverbal Behaviors

Indicative of the Internal Conflict/Stress State during Deception.

Nonverbal behavior Description and expected relation to deception Inter-rater

reliability (r)

Cooperativeness Cooperative/agreeable in body/voice (-) .96

Immediacy Warmth/intimacy/interest in body/voice (-) .69

Nervousness Nervous/tense in body/voice (+) .70

Vocal uncertainty Uncertain in body/voice (+) .89

Accelerated prosody # syllables/# sec utterance took (+) .97

Lip press # times lips press together (+) .96

One-sided shoulder shrug Rapid one-sided partial shrug (+) .74

Speaking time # sec spent speaking (-) .88


Figure Captions

Figure 1. The effect of power on stress in the Trier Social Stress Test. Panel A displays the re-

sults for the low-stress condition in which no evaluators were present. Panel B displays the re-

sults for the high-stress condition in which evaluators were present. Power buffers the stress of

an oral speech as can be seen in Panel B.

Figure 2. The effect of power on self-reported stress in the Trier Social Stress Test. Only low-

power individuals in the high-stress condition reported feeling stressed. Power buffers the expe-

rience and self-report of stress. Error bars are SEs.

Figure 3. The effect of power on nonverbal stress in the Trier Social Stress Test. Only low-

power individuals in the high-stress condition nonverbally expressed stress. Power buffers the

nonverbal display of stress. Higher scores mean more nonverbal stress. Error bars are SEs.

Figure 4. The effect of power on self-reported pain in the cold-water submersion task. At both

the beginning and at the end of the 40-secs, low-power participants reported experiencing more

pain than the high-power participants. Higher values mean more self-reported pain.

Figure 5. Like truth-tellers, high-power liars show no emotional distress following the mock

crime and lie; only low-power liars report feeling emotional distress (a composite of: bashful,

guilty, troubled, scornful). Higher scores indicate more emotional distress. Error bars are SEs.

Figure 6. Like truth-tellers, high-power liars show no evidence of cognitive load following the

mock crime and lie; only low-power liars show evidence of cognitive load. Higher scores indi-

cate more cognitive load. Error bars are SEs.

Figure 7. Like truth-tellers, high-power liars show no evidence of cortisol reactivity during the

mock crime and lie; only low-power liars show evidence of cortisol reactivity (Y-axis is cortisol


at time 2 controlling for baseline cortisol). Higher scores indicate more cortisol. Error bars are

SEs.

Figure 8. Like truth-tellers, high-power liars show no nonverbal tells of deception; only the

low-power liars reveal their lies through subtle nonverbal tells (composite of: accelerated

prosody, cooperativeness, immediacy, lip presses, nervousness, one-sided shoulder shrugs,

speaking time, and vocal uncertainty). Higher scores indicate more nonverbal deception. Error

bars are SEs.

Figure 9. The effects of power and lie-telling on each of the eight individual nonverbal behav-

iors are depicted in eight separate panels. Panels A, B, C, and D show the same pattern as was

found on emotion, cognition, and cortisol. Across accelerated prosody, lip presses, partial shoul-

der shrugs, and vocal uncertainty, high-power liars—like truth-tellers—show no signs of internal

conflict or stress. In panel E a post-hoc contrast revealed that the one behavior differentiating

high-power liars from the others is immediacy—high-power liars are more cold, less intimate,

and less interested when lying. Panel F shows that for cooperativeness, there was a main effect of

lie vs. truth such that truth-tellers were more cooperative than liars. Panels G and H show no dif-

ferences among the four groups on nervousness or speaking time. Higher scores indicate more of

the behavior. Error bars are SEs.


Panel A: Low-Stress

Panel B: High-Stress


Time in Water


0.00

1.00

2.00

3.00

4.00

5.00

6.00

Low High Low High

Part

ial S

houl

der

Shru

gs

Lie-tellers Truth-tellers

12.00

13.00

14.00

15.00

16.00

17.00

18.00

Low power High power Low power High power

Acc

eler

ated

Pro

sody


0.00

0.50

1.00

1.50

2.00

2.50

3.00

Low High Low High

Voc

al U

ncer

tain

ty


0.00

1.00

2.00

3.00

4.00

5.00

6.00

Low High Low High

Lip

Pre

ss


6.00

12.00

18.00

24.00

30.00

36.00

42.00


Spea

king

Tim

e


-1.50

-1.00

-0.50

0.00

0.50

1.00

1.50

Low High Low High

Imm

edia

cy


-1.50

-1.00

-0.50

0.00

0.50

1.00

1.50

Low High Low High

Ner

vous

ness


Note: Planned contrast sequence (3, -1, -1, -1) was statistically significant: t = 1.85, p < .07; r = .27




Note: No contrast sequences, main effects, or interactions were statistically significant

Note: No contrast sequences, main effects, or interactions were statistically significant

Note: Only the main effect of lie vs. truth was statistically significant: t = -2.36, p < .05; r = .34

Note: Only the post-hoc contrast sequence (1, -3, 1, 1) was statistically significant: t = 2.03, p < .05; r = .30

-1.50

-1.00

-0.50

0.00

0.50

1.00

1.50


Coo

pera

tiven

ess


A

B

C

D

E

F

G

H

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