Podcast
Permission to be Powerful Podcast
Hosted by Anton · EN
“Permission to Be Powerful” is your battle cry for breaking free from self-doubt, reclaiming your voice, and living life unapologetically on your terms.
www.antonvolney.com
www.antonvolney.com
31episodes
Episodes
Newest firstAll episodes
Race Against Time
Feb 100:03:25Tap to summarizeDear Permission to be Powerful Reader,I was going to write to you about why I changed my name.NO TIME FOR THAT…I’m almost out of time.Let’s review…Why is Tony Robbins’ ex copywriter broke…working as a janitor?Surely, he could get a job most anywhere he wanted after that gig. Right?Yes.That’s correct.I could have easily gone to a seminar somewhere and shmoozed up to the right person.But after Tony’s betrayal, I told myself I’d rather STARVE than take another client.I was DONE waiting for someone else to anoint me.Many people feel threatened by your excellence.Nobody ever tells you that.Your brilliance can make others uncomfortable.Some lash out.They can take your strength personally.Some people benefit from you being small.They benefit from you doubting yourself.They can keep exploiting you.You decide you have a backbone and state your price.They take it as a personal attack.Not another human being taking care of their basic needs. This is the thing.Tony wasn’t even my best-paying client.He wouldn’t even pay in royalties, which was common practice in my world.S**t.This motherfucker didn’t even pay me as much as I made as a rookie at Agora several years earlier.I worked twice as hard for half as much.Then I got hung, drawn, and quartered for asking for a routine raise.It was so violent.So cowardly. I was so shocked to my core.I’d been an elite copywriter for years before he found me.He wasn’t my first celebrity client.He didn’t make me.Although he wanted me to think so.To keep me grateful for crumbs without complaining.I was tired of giving all that power away.I can’t believe I used to think 3% royalties were a big deal.What about the other 97%?This is the very definition of a poor man’s mindset.I worked 7 days per week for more than a year.Ghosted my friends.Gained 20 pounds.Started taking Prozac.Survived on food banks.I moved into my place of worship.I became a janitor.I became a monk.I spent every F*****G dollar I have…Granted, I never had that much. Still…Most people don’t know what that’s like.Betting everything on black.I made so little last year that I qualified for Medicaid.And I maxed out my cards.Have I gone mad?No.This is my ticket to freedom:This list… is about half the population of St. Lucia, my home country.It’s about 4.5% the size of Tony’s email list.Loud enough for him to hear.TonyEditor in ChiefPermission to be PowerfulP.S. If this work matters to you, paid members will see exactly how I built this email list of 88,402 subscribers—now on a clear path past 100k—in less than one year, from nothing, with no safety net.Permission to be Powerful is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.antonvolney.com/subscribe
Transcribe →
Moral Clarity
Feb 100:03:01Tap to summarizeDear Permission to be Powerful Reader,I know what I am willing to fight for. Willing to die for.What I won’t let slide.No more being invisible.No pretending it didn’t happen.No living in denial.Enough is enough.Moral clarity makes life simple.No confusion.No debate. No exceptions. Truth doesn’t negotiate. Nobody can dictate your reality.And no one has the right to tell you what you’re worth. You know what you’re worth.What your dignity is worth. What your loyalty is worth. What your time is worth. Lies won’t fly.You deserve better. No man who lies shall live in my house.Bullies must go. No more hot and cold.No more one-sided dynamics.No more people who treat you like chopped liver…Like you sleep in a kennel.No more manipulators.No more gaslighters.No violence of any kind. I don’t care if they’re drop-dead gorgeous with a million in the bank.Betray me, and you’re gone.The games are finally OVER.But why?Why so harsh?Because I failed my way to the top. Because I finally learned my lesson. I know better.Because now I have something that many do not.Moral clarity.Most people live by consensus.They lick their finger and test the wind.If standing your ground makes them unpopular, they fold.Most people do not have the courage to be disliked.To disappoint.To make others uncomfortable.Above all:Don’t abandon yourself.Not ever.Even if it’s inconvenient.Especially when it’s inconvenient.Don’t confuse martyrdom…Or compromise…With virtue.People talk about values—Until those values cost them something.Then you find out what they really believe. Whether they have a spine or not.Moral clarity makes life simple…But it’s not easy.It means saying no to people you love.It means having the courage to walk away.When it would be easier to keep your mouth shut and stay small.Most people abandoned themselves a long time ago.Their lives don’t resemble their dreams.Or their values.Excuses are so much easier.So is blame.What cause would you give all your money to?What would make you quit your job and never look back, no matter the cost?What would you do if you had nothing left to lose?At the end of the day, what are you going to tolerate?Who will you be when nobody’s looking?Food for thought.Until next time,— Tony (Yes, it’s Tony now, live with it.) Dancer, Writer, Buddhist.Permission to be Powerful is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.antonvolney.com/subscribe
Transcribe →
How to Clean Your Bathroom Like a Zen Master
Feb 100:10:16Tap to summarizeDear Permission to Be Powerful reader,I went from being a copywriter for Tony Robbins—to being a janitor at a Zen Center. And honestly? I love it.For years, I lived to perform. To prove myself. To get straight As. To be superhuman.I can’t understate how much pressure was placed on my back—writing to millions of people, trying to capture Tony’s voice, and sound incredible while I did it.I ran up to twenty miles every Monday before work — to make sure I didn’t crack under the pressure.That’s how seriously I took it. And now I sweep floors. Vacuum…Scrub toilets….I’ve dreamed of a simple life for a long time. A simpleton’s life, finally.Here, I don’t check news, I don’t scroll, I don’t even have access to porn or the endless stream of low-grade stimulation that used to eat my life in pieces.The structure itself keeps me clean.The shift is huge but logical. After a bitter divorce, after being fired by every copywriter’s dream client, what I really needed was not a rebound gig—it was healing. Early bedtimes. Early wake-ups. Predictable days.Cleaning, here, is the perfect practice ground. The difference between cleaning mindlessly and cleaning with mindfulness is night and day. My supervisor can tell immediately when I’ve checked out—attention evaporates, corners get missed, detail dissolves. Mindless people are chaotic; they leave evidence. You can trace their thoughtlessness in the mess they leave behind.The Zen Center is a transformation factory.The bells decide. I don’t negotiate with myself anymore. I don’t lose time to indecision. I wake up, I bow, I work, I eat, I sit. It’s all handled. My mind can finally rest. It’s funny—most people think rules are restrictive. For me, this place is freedom. Predictability is freedom.When I first got here, I realized something: This is the order I’ve been seeking my whole life. Everything here has a place—a flashlight next to every fire extinguisher, a label on every cabinet, a time for every sound. It’s beauty disguised as discipline.This place is routine to the max—the exact structure my ADHD brain always needed but could never hold on to in the outside world. Every minute accounted for. Every task thought through. They didn’t just build a schedule here; they built a system. They thought of the best way to live and got everyone to agree to it up front.Some days I meditate three hours…An hour at dawn, half an hour at lunch, another ninety minutes at night.It’s gruelling, but it’s also medicine. I have complex trauma—layers of it—and Zen has reached places therapy never could.After a seven-day meditation retreat, we’ll meditate from 4:30 am to at least 9:30 pm.I feel like I’ve earned ten years of wisdom in just seven days.When I meditate at dawn... Breakfast follows.We sit on cushions at a Japanese table barely a foot tall. Everyone’s posture is perfect. Nobody slouches. The food is vegan, beautifully prepared, and you never waste a bite. You leave no trace. That’s a Zen rule.And at noon, every day, we meditate.It resets my brain from whatever chaos accumulated during the morning.Then we have lunch.Someone spends two hours preparing that meal, and it tastes like care itself.The conversations here are unlike anything I’ve known. Gentle, funny, quietly brilliant. At breakfast, I sit with people who’ve been meditating for twenty years. One man has been here three. He’s tired of the corporate machine, too. We understand each other.And when I clean the Zendo—the meditation hall—I do it with reverence.The Zendo is sacred. The lights are dim, almost dark, except during cleaning when they’re unnaturally bright. You see every speck, every flaw. Everything must be perfect: each cushion fluffed, each surface dusted, nothing out of place.When I finally sit there at night for evening meditation, it hits me: I’m the one who prepared this place.I scrubbed the place from top to bottom.I made this space ready for everyone, including me.It adds weight to the moment. At the center of the Zendo sits the Buddha statue. You bow before entering, bow before leaving. It’s not superstition, or worship—it’s devotion.You learn that mindfulness isn’t just about thought. It’s about how you move, how you touch things, how you close a door.Mindless people are chaotic in a way that mindful people are not. They leave evidence of their distraction—crumbs, dust, chaos.The mindful leave nothing.Zen is a two-thousand-year-old practice.I think about that often.It’s humbling to realize we’re doing the exact same rituals our predecessors did centuries ago—same bows, same bells, same silence.In a world obsessed with novelty, there’s something powerful about a tradition that never needed reinvention.Psychotherapy has been around maybe a couple hundred years; Zen has had millennia to mature. I trust that kind of age. It’s proof that it works.The thing is, I used to think enlightenment would look like success.Turns out, it looks like sweeping the floor properly.There’s a saying in Zen: Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.I used to chase transcendence. Now I just clean the floor right in front of me.Without thinking about what comes next. People here see me.They call me by name—every single person. They look me in the eye. They bow. They thank me for my work. They don’t talk over me, or diminish me, or pretend not to hear.But the truth is, I’ve always been a disciplined man. My first career, my second career, my athletics, my writing—it’s all built on discipline. You put me in a hyper-disciplined environment like this one, and it doesn’t feel unnatural; it feels comforting.I used to think I needed freedom. What I needed was structure. I used to think I wanted approval. What I wanted was respect. And for the first time, I have it—across the board.Everyone here calls me Tony. No arguments. No debates. Just respect. For once, I’m surrounded by people who follow the same program, who live by the same values, who believe that order and care are the same thing.I came here tired of chaos. Tired of being defined by other people’s fears. Tired of the noise. I came here to rewire myself ten times over—and I did. This place is my transformation factory.Yes, I jacked Tony Robbins’ name and started calling myself Tony.He deserves it.But it’s not because of him. It’s coincidence.Tony’s real name is Anthony, and mine is Anton.Phonetically, they’re the same name. Anthony is the British version…Anton the Russian…Antoine the French…Antonio the Spanish… Antonius the Roman.And inside all of them—hidden but constant—is Tony.So Tony has always been the root. I just finally allowed myself to claim it.And I’m going to wear it better than he ever did. Just watch.Anton was the Chauffeur.The Chauffeur was so deeply enmeshed in my mind, was so baked into my brain, that one day I, Anton felt synonymous with that old identity.I’d outgrown it.When I moved into the center, they asked me what my name was and what I preferred to be called.I don’t think anyone had ever asked me that question.I have spent my whole life believing that my name wasn’t really mine.I never felt like I had permission to call myself whatever I wanted.My father, an abusive man, made a sport of mocking my name. He’s done it my entire life. And he’s the one who gave it to me.He never deserved that honor.He picked it carelessly.Then, during my last meditation retreat, something cracked open. Memories flooded back. Painful ones. Ancient emotions that had been repressed for decades came pouring out.That’s what these retreats do.Each time, they dissolve a few delusions and bring reality into focus.Therapy tries to dig into the mind and fix it.Zen strips the whole thing away bit by bit.So I changed my name on Facebook. Quietly. No announcement. No explanation.And whoever doesn’t agree will have to deal with it.If they find me, they’ll have to face the new name.If they don’t—better still.Anton was the Chauffeur.That’s someone I used to be.Tony is Mike Tyson — the opposite of my old self in almost every way.Stronger. Sharper. Deadlier.Until next time.TonyDancer, Writer, Buddhist. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.antonvolney.com/subscribe
Transcribe →
Your Last Day of Freedom
Feb 100:03:44Tap to summarizeDear Permission to be Powerful reader,You’re broke. Desperate for a break.Then you see it—a dream job overseas.Free travel. Great pay. A way out.You apply. You’re accepted.You tell your friends you’re finally catching a break.Soon, you’re on a plane to Bangkok. Full of hope…That hope dies fast.At the airport, a smiling man greets you.He offers to “help” with your visa, asks for your passport.You hand it over without thinking.He never gives it back.He tells police you’re a tourist, then pushes you into a van.The city lights fade.Hours later, you wake beside a black river.Men with rifles bark orders.“Get in the boat.”You cross into Myanmar.Barbed wire. Floodlights.A compound the size of a small city.Guards everywhere. Cameras on every wall.Your phone is gone.Your name erased.You’ve been sold into modern slavery.Inside, it looks almost normal—shops, offices, dorms.People whisper about “the black room.”No one says what happens there.Your bunk is a metal frame in a windowless cell.Ten people to a room.Guards with stun batons patrol the halls.The next morning, new bosses arrive—men in spotless shirts, expensive watches.They tell you the rules:No breaks. No pay. No escape.You “owe” them for your plane ticket.They sit you at a computer.“Your name is Alicia now,” the boss says.Your new job: pretend to be a young woman online.Flirt. Build trust. Steal money.You’re running what they call “pig butchering.”You fatten the mark with affection, then gut him clean.Crypto. Investments. False hope.You want to vomit.You type anyway.If you refuse, they’ll beat you.You’ve seen it happen.One man refused to scam an old widower.He came back from the black room covered in burns.“They shock us like dogs,” he whispered.Others collapse from exhaustion or heat.Some disappear completely.Rumors spread:Sixteen people killed for trying to escape.One man wakes up missing a kidney.You work twenty hours a day.You forget your real name.They promise freedom if you earn $200,000—but no one ever leaves.Then, one night, something breaks.Gunfire. Sirens. Smoke.Thai troops storm the gates.A soldier shouts, “You’re safe now!”You fall to your knees.You’ve been trapped for five months.Two hundred fifty people are rescued that night.You’re herded into a camp—filthy, crowded, but free.You wait weeks for your embassy to find you.When the plane finally lifts off, you cry silently into the dark.You left home full of hope.You return hollowed out.Back home, some people don’t believe you.They say you should have known better.They have no idea.Sixteen of the crime bosses were sentenced to death in China.They stole $1.4 billion.They stole lives.But new camps are already rising.You survived.Others won’t.Tell this story so someone else doesn’t vanish.Until next timeDancer, Writer, BuddhistPermission to be Powerful is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.antonvolney.com/subscribe
Transcribe →
This Is My Last Crusade
Dec 400:05:40Tap to summarize“Terrible things are happening outside. Poor helpless people are being dragged out of their homes. Families are torn apart; men, women, and children are separated. Children come home from school to find that their parents have disappeared.”— Anne Frank, January 13, 1943Those words were written eighty-two years ago.And somehow, they feel truer than ever.How is that possible?There’s no time to figure that out…I’m out of time.Listen carefully… Friend…This is my last crusade.Dear Permission to be Powerful Reader,For years, I lived in limbo.Stuck. Unsure if I can stay.Unable to leave.A stranger in a strange land with no future. One Federal officer could destroy my life. Before long, I expect masked men with guns to come for me.In my reality, it’s possible to wake up in Alligator Alcatraz.You think I’m exaggerating?I wouldn’t be surprised if my next stop was Guantánamo Bay…You think they care if I’m legal, not legal, or something in between?All because I made a single decision that could cost me everything. I have a U.S. Green Card.And, I have NO police record…I came here with my wife in 2019, right before COVID.The pandemic crushed our marriage—like so many others around that time.After three years, I left. Alone.A new city. No friends. No family.The divorce placed me in a gray area with immigration.Perfect timing to be on Uncle Sam’s bad side.I figure it’s only a matter of time.When I got my green card, it wasn’t real freedom.It came with an expiration date.The government handed me a two-year status with a timer attached and said:Prove it.Prove your marriage is real.Prove your life is real.Prove you deserve the right to stay.It means my life in America is fragile and reversible.I built a career, a home, a future… and still, I could lose everything.I lived every day knowing one bureaucratic hiccup could delete my entire existence here. I’ve found refuge in the Buddha.I’ve chosen one final refuge as my last stop before riding out the apocalypse. The Zen Center is the only place I feel safe. Why did I risk it?If they take my green card away, I’ll be gone forever.I’ll never be able to come back—not even if I have a U.S. wife or children.But when push came to shove, I couldn’t stay—not even to keep a green card.My ex made life unlivable.I reached a point where I saw my marriage with clarity.There was no saving it.I hate speaking about my immigration situation.Most Americans can’t relate.They don’t know what it’s like to earn something everyone else got for free—only to have it threatened forever.One guy at work tried to compare it to the time he lost his passport in a foreign country.Buddy…Not even close. YOUR rights are inalienable.You don’t understand what it means to lose something you could never lose.Your brain can’t process. In fact, there’s a high chance you WANT me to leave. Perhaps my plight makes you happy.If I went home, I would basically go and live in a cave for the rest of my life.Total destruction of my future. FOREVER. A life sentence.Forever living in regret.Forever thinking about the life I was supposed to have.It gave my dancing a particular urgency that nobody else could see. So I lived like there was no tomorrow.Because I knew there might not be.It was a profound place to come from when I started my salsa dancing journey.From the minute I left her, I knew the system could hand me a life sentence.Permanent exile…So I ran—one hundred races, half-marathons, tens, fives.And when I wasn’t running, I was dancing.Salsa. Bachata.Dance floors in Toronto, New York, Miami, Atlanta, Houston, Philly, Chicago.I partied harder in the last 3 years than the whole rest of my life combined.I started with two left feet — and kept going…Until people started filming me wherever I went.Until I became a spectacle.I danced with thousands of women after years of living in complete isolation.Then I wrote for giants—Tony Robbins, Neil Patel, Agora, and others whose words move markets.And still… none of it can save me.Some stranger gets to decide my fate.Me being here—writing to you—is the product of generations of sacrifice.This journey didn’t start with me.I’ve been waiting four long years for my verdict.I couldn’t sleep at night…Until I finally hung a massive flag on my wall.It helped.A little. In my dreams, I see masked men.Am I overreacting?We’ll see. I’ll keep you posted.Until next time,Dancer, Writer, Buddhist.Permission to be Powerful is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.antonvolney.com/subscribe
Transcribe →
You're Worth Being Wanted
Nov 2000:03:25Tap to summarizeDear Permission to be Powerful reader,Have you ever been treated like you’re a pest?A burden?A nuisance?Fire that person.Quit.Dump them.Check your prenup.Start hiding assets if you must.You’re a gift, not a burden.When someone shows you they don’t want you around, believe them. Leave.People pleasers snap straight into “please like me” mode the second they feel distance. They twist themselves into knots to win someone who can’t pass the simplest test on earth:Treat me the way I like to be treated.Not the way you prefer.Not the way your ex tolerated.Not the way your parents conditioned you.This is the part people never understand about me:I want to be wanted.I need evidence.Effort.Initiative.Reciprocity.And I like watching people over time.How they act in good seasons and bad.Whether they’re the same person when their mask slips.Patterns don’t lie.Marriage taught me that.Divorce hammered it in.You can live with someone for decades and still not know them. You think you do. You build your entire life around what you think you know. Then one day, the floor disappears and you realize you were living next to a fantasy they never actually embodied.Two people.Two universes.Zero overlap.I’m learning it again with my father.There were truths about him I refused to see. Not because they were hidden—nothing subtle about that man—but because I needed him to be someone he never was. Someone capable of love.He resented his children before we could even speak.Then we grew up and surpassed every expectation he had for us. The irony writes itself.Sometimes you don’t know someone at all.Sometimes you know them too well.You see right into the wiring of their mind. The circuitry. The blind spots. The limits. And then you realize you don’t share a reality with them. Just a mailing address.He is who he has always chosen to be.And I finally stopped needing him to be anything else.That’s the turning point.Once you figure someone out, you stop confusing fantasy with loyalty.You stop mistaking potential for character.You stop begging for crumbs.And the shift isn’t in them.It’s in you.If someone in your life ignores your feelings, breaks your boundaries, treats you like an inconvenience, or acts like you’re optional… they need to go.Now.You can do better.You will do better.Life hands you the same chapter until you finish it properly.Close it.File it.Move on.Once you do, everything changes:Danger stops feeling exciting.Abuse stops feeling familiar.Respect stops feeling expensive.And “bare minimum” stops passing as love.The curse breaks.Groundhog Day ends.Until next time,Dancer, Writer, Buddhist.Permission to be Powerful is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.antonvolney.com/subscribe
Transcribe →
They Nuked My Substack
Nov 900:04:10Tap to summarizeDear Permission to be Powerful Reader,I felt like a God…23,520 Subscribers…FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER.What an incredible milestone.One click…Twenty thousand emails sent.And within minutes—boom.They NUKED 90% of my subscribers.Gone.Substack? 15,000 Nuked.MailChimp? 23,000 Gone too.Go to Jail. Go directly to jail. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200. Twice in one week.You ever build something for a year, spend every dollar you’ve got, finally reach the promise land…And then watch it go up in smoke instantly?On the first f*****g send?That’s where I was.👉 Wiped out almost everyone…👉 Without warning…👉 OVERNIGHT.[Figure 1: Crossing 14,000 Subscribers on Substack][Figure 2: Big Brother Deletes 13,000 Subscribers without warning overnight]Forget about the thousands of dollars I invested in my list.Forget about hours I can’t get back.Turns out, sending an email to 20,000 people isn’t like sending one from Gmail. If Gmail = paddling a rowboat... 20,000 subs = a nuclear submarine Imagine being that fisherman who bumps into the sub and climbs into it.You start pushing buttons because the lights are pretty, and before you know it—you just started World War III.Lights are flashing red…Russia and China are “responding” No take-backs. You done fucked up.That’s what happened to me.I’d never sent that many emails all at once.I honestly didn’t know what to expect.I felt like I’d gotten the death penalty for J-walking.Even though I’ve written for titans like Tony Robbins and Neil Patel…And my words have been seen and read by millions…I didn’t have the first clue about email deliverability.I tripped every spam filter, every compliance alarm, every internal red flag. Substack saw the smoke, panicked, and hit the kill switch.At the time, I was furious… Like “Big Brother” was all up in my business—poking their nose where it shouldn’t be. But now, I see it differently.If I’m being frank with you…My first thought after losing the list was…“I’m finished.”This was an extinction-level event.I was wrong. Just a speed bump.They didn’t destroy me…They exposed a weak link in my business. And, this could have been way worse if it had happened later on. Say, when my list hit 100,000. Yikes. I’d built a machine on shaky ground. But the good news is…I got a crash course on list hygiene. But man — what a kick in the nuts.I learned the hard way that your empire can vanish overnight.So I’m rebuilding.From scratch.I’ve got a new lead generation system. It consistently grows thousands of real subscribers every month. Almost nobody knows this Substack growth trick, and it’s working exceptionally well.You can delete my subscribers.But you can’t delete Permission to be Powerful.I can’t be broken.(LOL — 2025: The Year I Joined a Cult to Save on Rent?)I’ve cut all my expenses down to the bone to keep this going…Because that’s how much I believe in it.There aren’t too many people with this kind of vision and commitment.I’m all-in.I keep telling people: starting a business is like skydiving with a sewing kit. You jump out of the plane, fabric flapping everywhere, and try to stitch your parachute together before you go splat.That’s been my entire year—needle between my teeth, wind in my face, praying the thread holds.Pimpin’ ain’t easy.Until next time,Dancer, Writer, Buddhist..Permission to be Powerful is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.antonvolney.com/subscribe
Transcribe →
Blackballed
Sep 1700:05:12Tap to summarizeEditor’s Note: We Did It.Permission to be Powerful has officially crossed 10,000 subscribers. Wild. I promised myself that when we got here, I’d republish my favorite article, Blackballed. To mark the occasion, here’s my Big Fat Mega Dump of every place you can find me online...* Facebook * Twitter/X * YouTube (Mr Congress) * YouTube (Permission to Be Powerful) * TikTok * BlueSky * Mastodon * Telegram * Amazon * Kick * Twitch Follow all of these at your own risk—your timeline will never be the same.Now, on to Blackballed…Dear Permission to be Powerful Reader,A few years back, a survey asked 300 copywriters one question:"What’s the worst thing that can happen in this business?"🤔Some said writing a promo that flops.👉 "Zero conversions. Client pulls the plug."Others said pouring your soul into a campaign, only for the client to shelve it.👉 "We love it—but we decided to go in another direction..."Some said it was writing a promo that makes millions… but someone else gets all the credit.👉 "Congrats to our Copy Chief for this record-breaking launch!"But that’s not what I answered…The worst thing that can happen in this business?👉 Getting fired. 👉 Blackballed.👉Your life’s work gone overnight.This is a true story.But except for my own, I’ve obscured all the names and identities for reasons that’ll become clear.I’m Anton Volney, and I thought I’d never write again...I grew up in a tiny third-world country in the Caribbean—3,000+ miles from the U.S.I clawed my way into the world of New York Times Bestsellers like Ramit Sethi…Forbes 30 Under 30 Entrepreneurs like Neil Patel…And eventually, for the biggest self-help icon of them all… Tony Robbins.My words printed millions.And then—One moment, I was on top…The next—I was erased.Because of a weak man with a laughably fragile ego...(Seriously, bro, I know some good therapists who will help.) I spent 15 years chasing this dream.And I had learned my craft from the best in the world.Yet, it collapsed in the blink of an eye.This journey wasn’t quick.It was slow. Painful.Then…When I was 36, after 15 years grinding in the dark, my career detonated overnightAnd suddenly, my words are in front of MILLIONS.In print on Times Square.Then, out of nowhere—I was locked out.Kicked off Slack. Colleagues—silent.I had “Rapid-Onset Blackballing.”I wasn’t just fired.I was radioactive."You’re undeserving."Whatever that means.I went from being the MVP to being persona non grata.I’ve got one last promo for the next biggest client I’ve ever landed.It’s a small consolation prize compared to Tony Robbins… but this could make me a killing.This was my Alzheimer’s Promo for Behind The Markets.The stakes? Six figures in royalties—IF I beat the control.Fifteen years boiled down to one moment.No second chances.The deadline is in 48 hours.I’ve spent years preparing for this moment.One launch.One sales letter.One chance to prove I belong at the highest level.I’m watching my competition.One guy played it too safe—his promo was dead on arrival.Another tried to be clever — subscribers didn’t take the bait. They’re talking about the biggest names in the room—guys with resumes stacked a mile high.But they missed the mark.I can make my name right now.“Go get it…”And if I have a perfect launch…The BEST work of my life…I can beat the control and cement my name in the industry forever.Then? Ball out so hard I have to invent new ways to waste money.Ice cream for breakfast... Hire a butler to stand in the corner and clap every time I send an email. I even thought about getting my anus bleached because it was the biggest waste of money I could think of.My Copy Chief is telepathically telling me to check my hook…"Check your hook."I check my hook.Strong lead. Killer Offer. Perfect funnel. Set up for the close… and… Watch sales start flooding in.Now, two things you need to know before this offer goes live:The first is that when the offer isn’t clear, you take big swings.You make bold, risky claims to break through the noise.The second is that your copy’s selling power largely depends on what’s called The Big Idea… If you’re a beginner, this is what triggers the “lizard” part of your brain to activate wild, irrational desire.If you’re an experienced freelancer, you’ve got a handful of winners under your belt.Mine?A killer control. One that prints money.It’s locked in. Right. So, how does this happen?Flatline.Zero conversions. No sales. It happened because of one bad clinical trial.And the results came out the night before — it shattered my Big Idea.Right at that moment, I didn’t have time to calculate the odds of that happening—because I was about to watch my hopes and dreams go up in smoke. "Back up! Back up!""Kill the launch!""We’re pulling the offer!"None of this has anything to do with Tony Robbins…I’m only mentioning it because I wanted to say to whoever answered that the worst thing that could happen in copywriting was a promo that flopped…Seriously?F**k you.Until next time,Dancer, Writer, BuddhistPermission to be Powerful is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.antonvolney.com/subscribe
Transcribe →
They Laughed... While He Died 🔪
Sep 1300:02:49Tap to summarizeEditor’s Note: Follow me on Facebook, Twitter/X, and YouTube Now, let’s get into it…Dear Permission to be Powerful Reader,August 18, 2025, a French man named Jean Pormanove (JP) died live on Kick.Viewers tuned in from around the world, while they… “murdered someone slowly on camera.”A few hours before his death, co-streamer “Naruto” (Owen Cenazandotti) coldly adds:“Let him say on camera right now, if he dies tomorrow in the middle of a live show, it’s due to his shitty state of health and not to us.” After Jean passed, Naruto posted on social media:“Unfortunately, JP has left us. I love you, my brother, and we will miss you terribly.” Regulators are considering penalties up to $49 million against Kick for failing to protect users. Why did he stay?JP didn’t stay because he enjoyed being a punching bag. He knew better.In a chilling pre-stream message, JP writes to his mother:“Hi mom... I feel like I’m kidnapped with their shitty concept. I’m fed up. I want to get out of here...” 👉 He stayed for the same reason so many of us have stayed in toxic friendships, situationships, and relationships: The hunger for acceptance was louder than self-respect.I understand him.I’ve stayed in places where I was treated like dirt. I’ve laughed off insults. I’ve swallowed disrespect. I’ve clung to scraps of approval that never came.Why would anyone stay with someone who treats them like chopped liver?✅ Because guilt is stronger than anger.✅ Because the need to belong is stronger than the need for safety.✅ Because walking away feels like failure.And that’s the trap Jean Pormanove lived in until it killed him.What finally broke the spell for me was realizing this:The only way those people felt “big” was by keeping me small.Without me beneath them, their status collapsed. Their “confidence” was fake—propped up by my submission.That was the proof. If their approval required my humiliation, their approval was worthless. If they withheld acceptance to keep me chasing, then acceptance was never really on the table.👉 Never go to a party where you’re not invited.You’re not going to win over the crowd. You’re only setting yourself up for rejection.👉 And — I need you to listen closely on this one — NEVER dine at a restaurant where you’re on the menu.Because the only people who want you there…Are the ones who think you taste delicious. Until next time,Dancer, Writer, Buddhist.Permission to be Powerful is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Follow Me on Social Media: * Facebook * Twitter/X * YouTube (Mr Congress) * YouTube (Permission to Be Powerful) This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.antonvolney.com/subscribe
Transcribe →
The Fraudsters I’ve Worked With — and their Dirty Secrets
Mar 2, 2025Tap to summarizeThere’s an epic scene in The Wolf of Wall Street where Jordan Belfort’s empire crumbles.The FBI storms in, and the game is over. No negotiation. No escape.I kid you not… I once worked for a company where the same thing happened.A surprise raid.People were shredding evidence. Others have panic attacks.What followed was a massive lawsuit.The Federal Trade Commission (FTC) sued the investment advice company for deceiving consumers with false claims about their services.The FTC alleged that they charged consumers thousands of dollars for access to services that often resulted in substantial losses.* The company paid $1.7 million to consumers.* The FTC also sent $1.2 million in refunds to consumers.And here’s where I tell you how much I f*****g hate marketers.If you think Wall Street is evil, step into the world of online marketing—where fraudsters wear Rolexes, fake ‘gurus’ charge $5K for a Zoom call, and convicted criminals are keynote speakers.I’ve never seen a demographic of people who would sell their souls to make a quick buck faster.I’m convinced that the world of direct-response marketing is filled with sociopaths.The entire industry is shady as f**k.Filled with charlatans and frauds.I’ve taken to looking up my clients on TruthFinder.com to see if they have a criminal record.I had one client — a very well-known, well-respected guy.I discovered he’s been fined $300,000 by the FTC for false advertising.That guy was a whole ass criminal. Yet, he’s doing keynote speeches at marketing conferences, and everybody worships him like a God.FILLED.Gary Halbert is considered one of the best copywriters of all time. What a fascinating human being. He wrote his book on how to write copy FROM PRISON.Most copywriters worship this man.To me, he most resembled a kingpin. He was a playboy. And off his rocker like Jordan Belfort.He once said that he was on a plane looking down at the houses — and one out of every three houses he could see below had received his ads.He became incredibly wealthy and lost it even faster. Gary was the master of selling you a fantasy, so he ended up in prison for a year.Again, he got busted for fraud.People asked me to write a promotion for a Crypto info product…While they were getting slaughtered in the market.One guy had a whole episode of Unsolved Mysteries dedicated to him.Because there’s widespread suspicion that he murdered his copywriter — pushed him off the top of a building.This is how crooked some of these people are.Yet, these people walk among us as if they’re normal human beings.I’ve gone back and forth on what to make of the people in the online marketing world.Are they all fraudsters or doing real good in the world?That’s a question I asked myself about Tony Robbins A LOT. And I still go back and forth. I’ll eventually make a whole post about Tony’s shadiness.There was this guy, Brett.My former boss.One of the scammiest people ever.Every day, we’d start the day with a team meeting. Bret had a very inflated ego.I’ve seen Brett publicly humiliate more than a few people with glee.Brett fancied himself to be above the rules. Rules are for the little people. He was on the call chewing tobacco — I kid you not — spitting it out into a spittoon.What is the yippy kay yay is this?Disgusting.Nobody commented on it, but that alone tells you everything you need to know about Brett.After the FTC raid the previous year, Brett came from another company to run the show.The Feds had also busted the company he’d come from — Raging Bull. And they got shut down permanently.Brett considered himself a marketing genius, yet ironically, he had a knack for running businesses into the ground.This one was no different.There was another client in the same industry. He flies me down to Florida to meet at the company headquarters for a few days.It’s a tiny office—much smaller than I expected for an investment guru. There are about eight people in the whole company.I meet the phone sales team—two guys. We went out for drinks, and they told me about the job.“Hey,” I say, “What was all that yelling I heard from your office? You must have had an irate customer.”“Oh nah.” He said, “You ain’t seen nothing yet. This is me every day. When I’m yelling, that’s right where I want to be. That means emotions are flying…”.“If we’re having a screaming match, I’m doing my job.”This guy felt no qualms about berating people into buying his overpriced product.No qualms about using every shady and manipulative tactic in the book to bully his way to closing the sale.On the contrary — he was proud of himself.How did I arrive here?I was a LONG way from home.I kept trying to climb the corporate ladder and followed the money.I heard that the investing advice industry paid the best, so that’s where I went. They spent the best because it was the most cutthroat and competitive industry online today.So, the best copywriters in the world often are in this industry.It was a long and windy road.I flew to Nebraska to hire an A-list copywriter to train me for a few days, show me the ropes, and teach me how the game is played.The Corn Belt.It was the type of place I vowed never to return to.The place is so landlocked, just being there felt stifling.For what it’s worth, I don’t regret my work.I was a good copywriter before I got into the industry.After a few years, I became an outstanding copywriter.When I arrived at Tony Robbins ‘ company, I was ready to knock everyone’s socks off.It took me a very long time to understand these people. I spent years lost in a grey area.One of the things I learned…The reason why these people felt no qualms about selling their BS products for thousands of dollars…Late-stage Capitalism Corrupted Them Entirely.They believed that because their products were selling like hotcakes… this automatically implied that their actions were ethically acceptable.There are A LOT of people like this. Look at me. Look at how much money I made online. Look at me bragging about how much money I make on the internet.Somehow, the idea is… If we made lots of money, that’s all the proof we need to sleep easy at night.I’ve taken a long time to clarify my thoughts about the people in this industry. What I respect about them, and what I don’t.I’ve indeed encountered a wide range of slime bags in my industry…I used to feel ashamed telling people what I did for a living.Part of me knew before I was ready to admit it to myself.But… Everything is relative.I reasoned that while it is true that I’ve had to work for and with several ethically compromised people…In the grander scheme of this late-stage capitalist hellscape, many companies have shady business practices.In addition to the Fake Gurus… there are Payday loans, Multilevel Marketing, automated phone call scams, get-rich-quick schemes, Forex and Bitcoin schemes, Ponzi schemes, Snake Oil Products…, and timeshares.Oh, Timeshares are the worst.Have you ever heard of the Liver King?Here’s this guy making millions of dollars on the internet selling garbage supplements.He looks like a Greek statue well into his forties.People think he looks like that because he eats raw meat and all sorts of nasty s**t like bull testicles and whatnot.Eventually, people find out he’s spending $12,000 per month on steroids.I ultimately came to a place where I felt comfortable.The Fake Guru industry is not the only scammy industry. This is a feature of late-stage capitalism, not a bug.And, hell, some people in this country make bombs for a living. Fly drones that kill people for a living.It makes my industry look petty by comparison.For however long I stay in this industry, I still enjoy my work. I was meant to be a powerful communicator.I acquired this skill through the most unconventional means.But I have no regrets.Brett eventually got fired after it came to light that he’d been stealing from the company.Unfortunately, he stole A LOT.So much so that they shut their doors for good about a year after I left.Brett fired me when I was out on my ass, burned out, in the middle of a nasty divorce.I think it’s so funny how they kicked me out.Treated me like dirt.Like I wasn’t worthy of being among them anymore.It threw me out like trash because I was having a hard time…Walking away from that, I find it easy to beat myself and think I failed. I’m a failure.Yet, these same companies are going belly up barely a year later because everyone in it is too crooked.Stay woke, ya’ll.Until next time,AntonDancer, Writer, BuddhistPermission to be Powerful is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Permission to be Powerful at www.antonvolney.com/subscribe
Transcribe →