Last month, I wrote an article in response to a YouTube video I watched on Machiavelli and why you should never bow to the mob and apologize.

Since that time, there has been another recent public apology – the first being Tim Kennedy’s retraction for making false claims about his military service and claims of false valor. Then comes Joey Swoll’s misstep following Hulk Hogan’s death.

Swoll, a fitness influencer known for calling out bad gym behavior, posted a tribute photo dressed as Hogan in vintage yellow and red gear, meant, presumably, as a nostalgic nod. But the internet didn’t see it that way. He was lambasted for celebrating Hogan’s life in light of the racist remarks he made towards his daughter, a black man. Swoll apologized, but it only made things worse. The apology came across as weak, only done to appease the mob, and predictably, he got dragged even harder. So much so, he has abandoned social media because his feelings got hurt—another move of the coward.

RIP

As I stated in the previous post, I am not a soldier, and I don’t know Joey Swoll personally, but I do know this: people have been embellishing and misjudging moments for as long as stories have been told. As I mentioned in my last post, my dad, a criminal defense attorney, would often say, “Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.” After years of hearing every kind of tale in the courtroom, he was keen on disseminating bullshit.

Machiavelli’s philosophy was simple: never apologize. 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 potent 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.

I referred to Robert Greene’s The 48 Laws of Power, which 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.

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 always 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.

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 never approve of Tim Kennedy or Joey Swoll’s bowing to the mob and apologizing. Think before you speak, and if the words aren’t met the way you intended, sometimes you have to stand your ground and not be a bitch.