I recently came across a video on YouTube I found interesting, especially in light of the Tim Kennedy controversy—his public apology for making false claims about his military service. I’m not a soldier, so I can only defer to those who’ve worn the uniform. But one thing I do know: people have been embellishing stories for as long as stories have been told. My dad, a criminal defense attorney, used to say, “Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.” He said it with a wry smile—after years of hearing every kind of tale in the courtroom.

Still, this video pushed me to reflect, particularly on Machiavelli’s philosophy of never apologizing. To him, power was never about being understood—it was about being untouchable. He believed that perception is reality, and that silence, when deployed strategically, can be more commanding than any defense. The video’s core message is sharp: the most powerful response to an accusation is no response at all.

Machiavelli’s logic was ruthless but sound – once you start explaining yourself, you lower yourself to the level of your accuser. You legitimize the attack. And worse, you hand over control of the narrative to someone else.

Robert Greene, in The 48 Laws of Power, outlines this perfectly in Law 1: Never Outshine the Master and Law 36: Disdain Things You Cannot Have – Ignoring Them Is the Best Revenge. To defend yourself is to shine attention on the very thing you wish to neutralize. The more energy you give the accusation, the more real it becomes in the eyes of the crowd.

Instead, the Machiavellian strategy is to weaponize ambiguity. A well-timed silence creates discomfort. It forces others to fill in the blanks, often projecting strength or mystery onto you simply because you refused to explain. That’s Law 3: Conceal Your Intentions. You don’t win by arguing. You win by being unreadable.

When someone publicly criticizes your character – calling you arrogant, selfish, or manipulative – the instinctive response is to protest. But that move betrays emotional neediness, the desire to be seen as “good” or “understood.” Machiavelli would call that a weakness. And Greene warns in Law 4: Always Say Less Than Necessary, that words reveal too much. The more you say, the more ordinary you become.

As the video demonstrates, always remain calm – stay detached, and unbothered. Make dismissive statements like, “Is that how you see it?” The minute you accept the premise, you’ve lost the narrative.

Instead of defending, you invert. You make their accusation say more about them than about you. They say you’re manipulative but you reply with calm precision.

Power isn’t gained through clarification; it’s earned through composure. And the man who needs no defense appears untouchable – not because he’s flawless, but because he never stoops to justify. Machiavelli would apporve because control isn’t won in debate – it’s won in restraint.