Below is an excerpt of a funny, and yet fairly accurate portrayal of a Robbins seminar. (this was linked to above).
He touches on many key points...
12 hr days, Love Bombing, Music Blasting, Shouting "Yes!", etc.
He also mentions the fact that much of Robbins act is DATED. But that is intentional. Those are all repetitive hypnotic cues for his followers. They "stack" on top of eachother. Nothing in a Robbins seminar happens by chance. Even when he is LATE, and there are big line-ups getting in, that is all part of the PLAN to disrupt you and create CONTRAST. Its part of the Hypnotic Induction.
His description of the Tony Acolytes is very accurate. They look up to him like he is some sort of Super-Daddy. Its really disturbing.
But here he makes an error. He thinks that what Robbins does with the audience is sincere and shows he is insecure. Robbins is definitely a Love Slob and NEEDS to be WORSHIPPED. And i do agree that Robbins NEEDS these followers to make himself feel ok about himself, most likely due to his low-self worth, and having "4 fathers" and all the rest of his dysfunctional childhood, in which he NEVERS mentions any type of father.
But those "private tender moments" he spends with his followers are all part of the sales process.
Its a DEEPER Induction, very emotional. Its moving into INTIMACY with his select acolytes.
Some of those very people will go on to take ALL of his courses, several times, and sign up for more stuff. Each one of those persons could be worth $100,000 grand to Tony, or even much more, if they HAVE it.
He wants to LURE them into his Platinum Partnership, which is about $65 grand a YEAR to "hang out" with Tony a few times.
I knew people who fell into that crowd.
Tony starts off SEEMING all wonderful, and caring, and touchy-feely.
But after the certified cheques clear, its a different story.
Below is a link about some folks who were Franchisees of Robbins. Its started out all touchy-feely, but then AFTER hundreds of thousands of dollars went to Tony from each person, he CUT THEM LOOSE. Robbins would literally not return anyone's calls, and HIS OWN PEOPLE had to take him to the FTC, and FORCE him to come to the table.
There are many lawsuits and other activites of this nature.
That is the REAL Tony Robbins.
Completely ruthless Businessman, looking out for #1.
Its the classic Wolf in Sheep's clothing.
When i see those folks hugging him, and staring in his eyes, and crying, it saddens me. They have no idea how they have been played by a sociopathic Master Hypnotist.
Hopefully they won't mortgage their homes and empty their life savings so they can blow $100 grand on his "advanced courses", and then end up with a big NOTHING. A big con-job.
The link below is correct in the end. Its all about...GREED.
Awaken the Pliant Within
For 11 hours and 15 minutes, I
realtors. For 11 hours and 15
minutes, I gave back rubs to car
salesmen. I pretended to be the
World's Most Outrageous Aerobics
Instructor. I recited truisms in
a Mickey Mouse voice. I
mimicked epileptic-surfer moves
as speakers blasted '80s
frat-party songs. I boosted the
"energy up to Level 40!" I
shouted "Yes!" over and over,
along with the 3,000
other "playfully outrageous"
attendees of the Anthony
Robbins Competitive Edge(TM)
seminar in a slightly rundown
auditorium in downtown San Jose.
And when Robbins asked us if we
were "juiced," I raised my fist
to the ceiling and arm-pumped
like a drunken Young Republican
at his first National
When 8:00 p.m. came at last, as
the neo-Wagnerian chords of
"Start Me Up" crunched toward
crescendo, 3,000 sweaty
overachievers celebrated their
completion of the 12-hour
Anthony Robbins Competitive
Edge(TM) seminar in the
requisite manner of the day:
with rampant arm-pumping,
communal moaning, spontaneous
stranger-grappling, and loud,
liberating exclamations of
At least I think that's how it
I had fled the scene about 45
minutes earlier. I had meant to
stay to the end, I swear.
Several times throughout the
day, Robbins had stressed the
importance of the final hour:
"It's like the last rep when
you're lifting weights - that's
when the real growth happens!"
He punctuated each repetition of
the sentiment with his signature
move, an expressionistic karate
chop to his own chest, and with
each crisp, swashbuckling
thwack, I promised myself that I
would indeed stick around for
the last group cheer. Because I
wanted to learn how to become a
"state inducer." Because I
wanted to learn how to "gain the
competitive edge through
strategic influence," so that I
too might sell millions of
overpriced book and videotape
collections to underperforming
salespeople, and land lucrative
consulting gigs with timid
tennis stars and equivocal
But how much can a person take?
I mean, even a little Tony
Robbins goes a long, long way.
And Robbins, an exclamation
point made flesh, is more than
just larger than life; he's
larger even than the TV persona
he's created for himself. On the
stage behind him, two big-screen
monitors projected his every
movement and expression in
exaggerated detail. They seemed
The real Robbins, center-stage, 6
foot 7 inches, was simply more
compelling. Up close, of course,
he's freakish. His body, not
fat, but not quite fit-looking
either, gives the impression
that perhaps he has no body at
all, and to cover that absence,
he's simply stuffed a suit with
pillows. His oversized,
Osmondoid countenance had a
similarly synthetic quality;
Tony Robbins masks would be more
convincing. Most alarming was
the lower half of his face;
exhibiting such exoskeletal
grandeur, in such constant,
insect-like motion, it exceeded
mere "jawness" and became
"mandible." All this might make
him a somewhat disconcerting
dinner companion, but it does
make Robbins a pretty good live
performer. Those exaggerated
features register across an
entire auditorium; his
matadorean flouncing recalls the
bombastic flourish of Elvis in
his Vegas years.
Which is not to say his act
couldn't use some work. Much of
it felt ready for the archives.
Robbins continues to use '80s
effluvia like Donald Trump,
Michael Jackson, and Lee Iacocca
to illustrate his various
points. During a brief product
placement interlude a half-dozen
out-of-work actors dressed in
California Raisins costumes
tossed sackfuls of nature's
candy to the frenzied crowd: For
a moment, I thought I was at
COMDEX '87. Technically more
topical, but feeling just as
dated, were jokes about Saddam
Hussein and Lorena Bobbitt.
Nudge-nudge homophobia and the
tiresome strain of innocuous,
Jack Tripper-style lechery -
"Oh, I didn't mean that kind of
passionate - or did I?!" - were
additional low points, as were
the superficial asides regarding
Still, focusing on the specifics
of what Robbins says violates
the spirit of his philosophy of
influence. Indeed, his core
message for the day was the
notion that one's "words"
contribute little to one's
overall "influence." More
important than "words" is one's
"voice." (Robbins himself
generally employs either a
confident Foghorn Leghorn
baritone or a timid milquetoast
stammer.) More important than
one's "voice" is one's
"physiology," the sum total of
one's posture, gestures, and
expression. This "physiology,"
Robbins believes, accounts for
more than half of one's
He's absolutely right. His career
proves it. In his earliest days
as a "human potential
consultant," the only thing
separating him from all the
other smalltime self-confidence
artists talking the motivational
talk was one particularly
compelling bit of physiology:
the ability to walk the
firewalk. That fortuitous
sideshow trick helped Robbins
forge a highly marketable
identity; thousands of hours of
TV exposure later (according to
Robbins, not one minute has
passed in the last eight years
when his infomercials aren't
airing somewhere), he's the
world's best-known self-help
guru, raking in hundreds of
thousands of dollars for a
single day's work.
It is a long day's work, though,
that's for sure. Even in my
lesser role as a spectator, I
was exhausted at the onset of
the seminar's final hour. My
hands were sore from
indiscriminate clapping, my back
was aching from sitting in the
cheap orange folding chair my
US$300 VIP ticket had gotten me.
Robbins himself showed no signs
of fatigue. He lurched around
the stage like Arnold
Schwarzenegger imitating Jim
Carrey; he grabbed his dick
Michael Jackson-style and
bellowed into the microphone
like a karaoke televangelist.
And while I appreciate this kind
of spectacle as much as anyone,
after 11 hours, well....
Robbins had enlightened me, he'd
entertained me, he'd even
managed to "energize" me on a
few occasions. So couldn't he
just finally call it a day?
Perhaps his extreme reluctance
to do so is the secret to his
phenomenal success: At every
single seminar he gives, the
person who gets the most
significant emotional benefit
from it is always Robbins
himself. During the lunch break,
a couple of dozen acolytes had
congregated at the edge of the
stage, their faces contorted
with sweet, needy anguish as
they waited patiently for a
brief moment of communion. But
the neediest, nakedest, most
anguished expression of all
belonged to Robbins; he sat
poised on the edge of the stage,
his eyes filled with plaintive
puppy-dog yearning, his mouth
twisted in an awkward, grateful
grimace as his fans showered him
with their love and validation.
It was a disappointing moment;
hucksters of world-class stature
should be insincere and resonant
with vain self-loathing.
Robbins, I realized, was merely
It's an inevitable irony: The
motivational expert needs the
audience's applause to confirm
his own self-worth. Onstage,
doing his epileptic-surfer
thing, he was the life of the
party. Offstage, one imagines,
he's just a big goof who can't
dance. Throughout the
afternoon's session, I tried to
convince myself that the
anguish, the awful longing for
approval, was just another part
of the act. But the longer he
continued to perform, the more
desperate he appeared. And when
he started launching T-shirts
into the crowd via a giant
slingshot, a sudden fear
overtook me: What would he do
next to win our favor? Start
offering us our money back? That
was when I decided I had to
flee; I simply wasn't able to
confront the specter of Robbins'
neediness a moment longer.
Now, after a few days'
reflection, I'm content to let
the question of Robbins'
neediness remain one of life's
many mysteries. The notion that
Robbins might have actually been
willing to trade a portion of
the day's receipts in return for
the chance to remain on stage an
hour longer was pure folly on my
part, induced, no doubt, by all
that disorienting hugging and
clapping. A quick visit to his
Web site, with its endless,
escalating pitches for products and
seminars, reaffirm one's faith
in his steadfast cupidity. In
the end, greed is Robbins' great