Machiavelli As Your Mentor: Silence, Mystery, And The Art of Influence
Welcome to Episode 4 of the Power Play Series!
Machiavelli wrote The Prince 500 years ago, but the book still haunts politics, leadership, and pop culture. Why? Because we’re still not sure what it really was. A handbook for tyrants? A satire? A survival manual? The ambiguity is what made him immortal.
Now, imagine he isn’t a dusty political theorist but your life coach. Forget the fluffy affirmations and pep talks. Machiavelli would coach you with sharp edges. He’d tell you the truth you don’t want to hear but desperately need.
Why should you read this article to the end? Because it will show you:
- Why being mysterious beats being available..
- How ambiguity, distance, silence, and mystique can become your survival kit.
- That sometimes the smartest move is the one no one sees coming. Power isn’t loud, it’s carefully engineered.
Rule 1: Ambiguity Is Your Superpower
Everyone’s obsessed with labels. “He’s the funny one.” “She’s the serious one.” “He’s the rebel.” “She’s the saint.” It sounds harmless—until you realize labeling is just a prettier word for control.
Because once they can define you, they can predict you. And once you’re predictable, you’re replaceable.
Machiavelli would tell you: ambiguity is armor. It forces people to keep guessing. It unsettles them. Think about it: shadows are scarier than monsters, silence scarier than shouting. People don’t fear what’s obvious; they fear what they can’t pin down.
In practice? Stop being an open book. Don’t tweet every thought. Don’t post daily updates of your lunch, mood, or relationship drama. Give fragments, not full confessionals. Share enough to intrigue but never enough to define. Because curiosity keeps people watching.
Overexposure is modern power’s worst enemy. The influencer who shares every detail of their life burns out. The employee who tells the boss every ambition loses leverage. Mystique dies the moment you overshare.
Instead, be fluid, not fixed. Playful today, serious tomorrow, mysterious the next. Keep them chasing the real you instead of pinning you down. Ambiguity keeps you priceless.
Translation from Machiavelli: Don’t become a product with a price tag. Be the unopened box everyone wants to peek inside.
Rule 2: Distance Creates Respect
There’s a cruel paradox about human nature: the closer you are, the less you’re valued. Be around too much and you fade into wallpaper. Be too easy to reach and you disappear into the background.
Think about it—water is everywhere, so we take it for granted. Diamonds are rare, so we worship them. It’s not about utility. It’s about scarcity.
Machiavelli’s coaching style would be brutal but eye-opening: if you want to be respected, step back. Don’t be constantly available. Don’t show up everywhere. Protect your presence like a crown jewel.
Scarcity creates weight. When you vanish for a while, every reappearance feels like an event. Your silence sharpens your words. Your absence carves importance into memory.
In today’s world, this translates to resisting the urge to always be “on.” If Machiavelli had social media, he wouldn’t be posting selfies every day. He’d vanish for weeks, then return with one cryptic post that made everyone lean in. That’s how you turn moments into monuments.
How to apply it without seeming cold?
- Don’t always be reachable. Let people wait.
- Appear with purpose.
- Choose carefully when to step forward.
Presence is like fire: too close and it burns, too constant and it cools. Rarely given, it warms the world.
Rule 3: Silence Cuts Deeper Than Words
Here’s the irony: the loudest person in the room is rarely the most powerful. The real danger often sits quietly, watching, waiting, letting others reveal themselves.
Most people fear silence. That’s why they fill it with noise—rambling to prove they belong, explaining to prove they’re right, oversharing to prove they matter. But the more you talk, the cheaper your words become.
Machiavelli would coach you differently: treat silence as a sword. Speak less and you’ll influence more.
Because silence makes people nervous. When you pause before answering, they lean in. When you withhold, they overtalk and expose themselves. And when you finally choose to speak, your words land with the weight of thunder.
Judges do this before delivering verdicts. Masters of negotiation do this in high-stakes deals. Even parents do this—remember how one long pause of silence from your mom could melt you into guilt faster than any lecture?
In practice:
- Don’t rush to fill every silence. Let it work for you.
- Pause before speaking. Make them wait.
- Use silence as a mirror—watch people reveal their weakness by talking too much.
Machiavelli’s life coaching mantra: Silence isn’t absence. It’s gravity. And gravity pulls everything toward it.
Rule 4: Mystique Makes You Immortal
Humans are addicted to certainty. We want the full story, the neat explanation, the final reveal. But here’s the twist: what we can’t see is what obsesses us.
Mystique is what transforms a passing memory into timeless recognition.
Take Machiavelli himself. He wrote The Prince 500 years ago, but the book still haunts politics, leadership, and pop culture. Why? Because we’re still not sure what it really was. A handbook for tyrants? A satire? A survival manual? The ambiguity is what made him immortal.
That’s mystique. It’s not about being vague; it’s about being incomplete. Leave gaps for the imagination to fill. Withhold a detail. Step away before the curtain closes. Let others obsess over the story they don’t have.
In a world where everyone overshares—where breakfast, breakups, and bedtime habits are all online—mystique is rarer than diamonds. And that rarity makes it powerful.
How to build mystique today?
- Never reveal everything. Always leave something unsaid.
- Disappear when people want more.
- Share glimpses, not the whole story.
- Let imagination do the heavy lifting.
Because here’s the truth: wealth fades. Fame fades. Power fades. But mystique? That outlasts time itself.
Final Word: Stop Being a Product. Start Being a Legend.
If Machiavelli were alive today, he wouldn’t be telling you to fake “authenticity” or strip yourself bare online. He’d be reminding you that selective authenticity is strategy. Share enough to connect, but not enough to be consumed.
Instead, he’d coach you to:
- Embrace ambiguity (don’t let them define you).
- Use distance (rarity creates respect).
- Wield silence (speak less, influence more).
- Build mystique (let mystery do the heavy lifting).
Because power in the 21st century isn’t about volume, it’s about control. Control of your story. Control of your presence. Control of what people can and cannot know.
So the next time you feel tempted to overshare, to explain yourself, to be endlessly available—pause. Channel your inner Machiavelli. Remember: shadows are scarier than monsters. Diamonds are worshipped because they’re rare. And legends outlive facts because of the stories left untold.
Be the one they can’t define, can’t reach too easily, can’t predict, and can’t forget.
Be mystical. Become a legend!
Liked this story? Let’s brew the next one together. ☕
For the price of a coffee each month, you’re not just supporting independent storytelling — you’re helping spark curiosity, challenge the status quo, and turn quiet rebels into everyday heroes.
As a Silver Member, you won’t sit in the audience.
You’ll be in the writer’s room — shaping narratives, inspiring episodes, and even commissioning custom-made story arcs tailored to your voice. (Just ask Valerie — she got her own series.)
Not ready to subscribe? No worries. Drop a tip, fuel a story, and keep the plot twisting.
🎭 Step into the Reed Manga Series Universe, where words still matter, inspiration is binge-worthy, and every pause between lines says more than a punchline.
With Gratitude, Caffeine & a Plot Twist
Joanne Reed, Head of Story Operations
Want a whole lot more? My book “This is Your Quest” dives deeper into genius, growth, and life’s playful paradoxes. Available on BookLocker, from Amazon or from Barnes & Noble
The Prince is a blueprint for keeping power. Tyrants never keep power becasue they cross the line fomr creating fear to hatred – that was Miciavelli’s rule of what not to do.
Thanks Simon for stopping by and for your feedback & insights. You are right, Machiavelli taught that: beween love and fear if you can’t have both; – better be feared than loved but what the tyrants forgot and Machiavelli ‘s teaching was quite clear- as soon as your people start hating you, you lost the game of power.