Rob gets upset when people don’t leave him reviews. He's chastised his readers for their ingratitude for his books on more than one occasion, which he feels are so valuable. There’s a reason it is the same handful of people leaving reviews on his books, and it’s because they’ve been made to feel they have to, or they’re disappointing God—not because they find enough value in the books to do it of their own accord, but because Rob smacks them upside the head and tells them they need to repent.
I really want to like Rob’s books because he seems to believe they’re so valuable. But having read most of all of them, and considering for a long time that maybe they’re not inspiring because this “level of truth” just goes way beyond what I can handle (really trying to give him the benefit of the doubt) I’ve concluded Rob is self-deceived about what he's doing. He seems to get some satisfaction from mapping out all of this thoughts and beliefs in a linear way, but there’s no spirit it in it.
Joseph Smith taught great magnitudes of truth. His words inspire me, edify me, build my faith, and draw me closer to the Savior. It’s a living, spiritual experience. His words carry the Spirit. They feel alive. There’s a tangible goodness to them. Rob’s formulations feel devoid of that. They’re cold and factual—like a computer. I find greater joy in just reading the Book of Mormon than I do Rob’s book on joy. It’s ironic—reading his book on joy leaves me feeling empty and depressed. His book on faith, though not offensive, leaves me feeling depressed and LESS motivated than I was before. I know I'm not alone in my experience, and I wouldn't be surprised if you feel this way too. Sometimes it just takes someone shining a light to see what a thing has been all along.
Not to mention, his constant undertone is anger, frustration, and arrogance. He bites like an agitated pit bull, whose responses seem disproportionately intense and condescending. It’s totally contrary to the Christ the Spirit testifies of to me—that same edifying Spirit that fills me when reading Joseph Smith, the Book of Mormon, the prophets, etc. There’s light. It’s spiritually discernible. I can see how a self-deceived person might come to believe Jesus is the way Rob behaves—but I believe that requires a very spirit-less, two-dimensional reading of Jesus. After all, the paradox of self-deception is that it sounds reasonable to its captive.
It almost feels like Joseph knows how to dance, while Rob is focused on timing the steps, placement, and breaking it down to an algorithm a computer could use. The way he’s tried to break down the human experience feels like the way an AI would do it: observing everything the behavior but missing the soul inside. I had an old boss like this; the turnover at his company in the last 7 years has been incredible… he’s well on his way to concluding, “I must be the only sane and reasonable person on the earth.” I think Rob is too, and unfortunately he’ll see a way to justify his behavior all the way to the end (because everyone eventually rejected Jesus, too).
The spirit about Rob is the spirt of a cold, analytical, machine. It permeates his books. As you read them, you'll find it permeating you, draining your passion, love, desire, and inspiration. Everything will look like a math equation, and you will feel like a computer.