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I'm the "outdoors" guy in my extended family. Whenever someone gets the idea to take their shitbag kid camping, they drag me along with the idea that I'll pass on some wisdom or something.
The kids in question have invariably lived incredibly sheltered lives and have basically never set foot outdoors, or ever been exposed to anything that might cause them injury. Nor have they ever been disciplined, because yelling at a kid or smacking them on the back of the hand when they're being an obnoxious destructive shit is scarring them for life and might get the kid to narc them out to child protection services or something.
So inevitably when they go outside these little monsters immediately grab the most dangerous object they can get their hands on and start running around like savages. If you tell them to stop they ignore you. Probably make eye contact and make a stupid grin first, then do whatever the fuck they were doing even more flagrantly just to demonstrate that they are disobeying you and they know it.
Their parents either ignore the entire debacle, or maybe halfheartedly whisper for them to please stop. Please. They are basically meekly begging their child to obey them, which only invites the mocking contempt the kid shows all adults. Then of course I have to be the asshole and raise my voice at them.
This changes everything.
The shitbag kid has never once had a man raise their voice in their presence and wilts into a blubbering sobbing mess of tears and snot. Camping/fishing/swimming/cookout/whatever ruined.
As a kid, if I fucked up I got yelled at. If I really fucked up I got the belt. I learned discipline and obedience through fear and pain. Disobeying my parents was unthinkable when I was a kid. Pain is the body's natural feedback mechanism: if something hurts you stop doing it. Thereafter, anticipation of pain is sufficient to discourage the behavior.
I got my first hatchet and swiss army knife when I was six. My father gave me the hatchet, my grandfather gave me the knife. If it wasn't raining, I was outdoors, in the woods. If I stuck around the yard I'd have to do chores so I got the fuck out of there. So I was basically wandering around in woods that went on for miles with sharp tools and no supervision from a young age because I was responsible enough to do so without causing myself or anyone else injury. This freedom was born of fear and pain, both of which children these days are utterly insulated from.
