I started reading Robert Greene when I was in federal prison. His books—The 48 Laws of Power, The Art of Seduction, The 33 Strategies of War—were on the shelves at Taft Camp, mixed in with theology, addiction recovery, and the occasional paperback thriller. Like many people in custody, I wanted answers. I wasn’t looking for motivation. I was looking for a strategy to make sense of how I’d ended up there—and how to avoid another collapse.
Greene’s books offered something most others didn’t: clarity about perception, timing, and consequence. I’ve read most of his work, and even now, I revisit it online. Earlier today, I came across two quotes from Greene on X, formerly Twitter:
“Too much respect for other people’s wisdom will make you depreciate your own.”
“You must avoid at all costs the idea that you can manage learning several skills at a time.
You need to develop your powers of concentration and understand that trying to multitask will be the death of the process.”
Those lines apply directly to the people in our community—defendants under investigation, or awaiting sentencing, who are anxious but passive, busy but scattered, and hesitant to rely on their own judgment. The system doesn’t wait for them to figure it out. The government advances its story. Judges form impressions. Probation officers take notes. What you do—or don’t do—will shape what happens next.
Why Greene Still Matters
The 48 Laws of Power is often misunderstood. It’s not a celebration of ruthlessness. It’s an unflinching study of how people interpret power—and how those interpretations can be used for or against you. Law 6: “Court attention at all costs.” Law 3: “Conceal your intentions.” Law 29: “Plan all the way to the end.” Greene backs each law with historical examples—from Bismarck to Napoleon to JFK.
His other book, The 33 Strategies of War, reframes decision-making through the lens of conflict: not violence, but psychological maneuvering. Strategy 28, “The Grand Strategy,” insists you think beyond the immediate battle. Strategy 2, “The Guerilla-War-of-the-Mind,” explains why mental clutter—information overload, second-guessing, multitasking—is your greatest liability under pressure.
Those ideas are relevant to anyone caught in a federal case. Especially if you think the strategy should come only from someone else.
The Cost of Waiting
A few months ago, I met Brian, a professional indicted in a wire fraud case. His lawyer told him to remain quiet and let the process unfold. “We’ll handle sentencing when we get there,” the lawyer said. So Brian waited. He didn’t write a narrative. He didn’t gather letters. He didn’t document his efforts to make things right. He believed silence would help. He thought that by avoiding mistakes, he was being smart.
At sentencing, the prosecutor described him as someone who’d taken no steps to address the harm. The judge turned to Brian and asked, “What have you done to demonstrate remorse or restitution?”
Brian had no answer.
He was sentenced to 46 months.
Greene’s work explains why. Law 13: When asking for help, appeal to people’s self-interest. Brian missed an opportunity to show the court that a shorter sentence wasn’t just merciful—it was reasonable. He could have built a case that aligned leniency with public trust, accountability, and his demonstrated values.
He also missed a second opportunity: persuasion before the moment of judgment.
As Robert Cialdini writes in Pre-Suasion: A Revolutionary Way to Influence and Persuade, the key to influence isn’t just timing—it’s priming. Cialdini argues that people, including judges, are more likely to give favor when their attention has already been directed toward shared values. If a judge has been reading a probation report that includes verified service work, consistent progress, and credible remorse, the defendant’s request for leniency doesn’t land in a vacuum—it lands on fertile ground.
Brian never created that environment. He assumed others would speak for him.
“Spectacular achievement is always preceded by unspectacular preparation.” —Robert H. Schuller
Do you think Brian’s sentence would have been different if he had invested time shaping how others saw him?
Do you believe silence helped—or hurt—his standing with the court?
To learn more about how Pre-Suasion applies to sentencing, and how to frame your values before you’re judged, watch our webinar on sentencing preparation. We show specific examples of how others in our community are doing it.
A Different Path, A Better Outcome
Scott, another man in our community, took a different path. His lawyer also told him to wait. But Scott was skeptical. He started reading Greene and watching interviews with federal judges. He learned that judges often reward defendants who take action early and show they understand the harm—not just claim it.
Scott spent six hours a day working on his record. He created a personal timeline, a detailed narrative, and a release plan supported by verified documents. He prepared character letters and aligned them with what his own statement said. He rehearsed how to communicate with the probation officer. His lawyer told him, “It’s too early.” Scott did it anyway.
At sentencing, the judge said, “You’ve clearly put in the effort. I believe you understand the seriousness of this situation.” The prosecutor requested 30 months. The judge gave him 12.
Which outcome do you want? And more importantly, which outcome are you preparing for?
“Give me six hours to chop down a tree and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe.” —Abraham Lincoln
Are you sharpening the axe—or hoping the blade is sharp enough without effort?
The Danger of Multitasking
Greene’s second quote—about multitasking—speaks to another trap defendants fall into. They spread themselves too thin. They try to learn sentencing, understand prison, work on letters, update family, read every DOJ article, talk to five lawyers, follow five programs.
They think they’re being productive. But they’re just overwhelmed. They start everything. They finish nothing.
In The 33 Strategies of War, Greene explains Strategy 2: Guerilla-War-of-the-Mind. He writes, “Your mind is your best weapon—but only if you protect it from chaos.” Defendants don’t realize that fragmented attention leads to weak decisions. Judges see the difference. So do probation officers.
The people I’ve seen succeed—Tracii Hutsona is one—devote at least six focused hours a day to preparing. Not just reading. Doing the work. Documenting their efforts. Revising their narrative. Reviewing transcripts. Preparing for objections. Organizing letters. Six hours a day. Every day. Not forever. Just long enough to build a record that speaks when they can’t.
Are you trying to learn five things at once—or putting in six hours a day on the one thing that can actually influence your sentence?
I still study Greene’s work because it reminds me how much I once ignored. Too much deference. Too many excuses. Too little focus. The people who get better outcomes don’t wish for them—they create them. They prepare early. They concentrate. They persuade the stakeholders who matter.
So I’ll ask you plainly: Are you influencing how stakeholders perceive you—or hoping your lawyer’s words will be enough?
Every Tuesday, we host a webinar that walks through how people in our community are preparing for sentencing, building records, and applying the strategies that actually persuade judges. If you want to see what that looks like, join us.
Justin Paperny
