You have to discipline your children, or they won't respect you

Phil Robertson, the rugged patriarch and voice of old southern wisdom, once declared: “You have to discipline your children, or they won't respect you, law enforcement or God or anyone else.” These words are not spoken in the cold spirit of harshness, but in the fiery belief that without discipline, respect dies, and without respect, society collapses. For the child who grows without correction learns not freedom, but rebellion without honor; he learns not love, but disregard for every authority, earthly or divine. Discipline, rightly given, is not cruelty but a shield—it shapes character, preserves order, and instills reverence.

The origin of this teaching lies in the ancient understanding of family as the first school of the soul. Long before kings ruled or nations rose, the household was the place where discipline and respect were planted. The wisdom of scripture resounds with this truth: “He who spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him.” The ancients knew that children, left untended, would grow wild like thorns; but if guided with firm yet loving correction, they would stand as oaks of righteousness. Robertson, echoing this timeless vision, warns that undisciplined children will not honor parents, nor police, nor God, for respect must first be learned at home.

The Greeks themselves bore witness to this. Aristotle wrote that the training of the young was the cornerstone of the city, for only through discipline could citizens learn virtue. In Rome, the father, or paterfamilias, bore the sacred duty to shape his children in respect for law and order. In every culture, east or west, ancient or modern, the same principle thundered forth: a people without disciplined children will soon reap chaos in their streets and rebellion in their hearts.

History offers us an example both luminous and grim. Consider the case of the Spartan youth. From early childhood, they were taught discipline—obedience, endurance, respect for law. This training produced warriors of legendary courage, men who could withstand hardship and serve the state with loyalty. Contrast this with the decline of Rome, where indulgence and lack of discipline in the home bred corruption, arrogance, and lawlessness. The lesson is eternal: where discipline thrives, respect grows; where it withers, decay follows.

The lesson for us today is urgent: discipline is an act of love, not cruelty. To correct a child is to prepare him for a life of order, dignity, and respect. Without it, he becomes not free, but enslaved to his own impulses, and in time, a threat to others. Discipline teaches self-control, reverence for authority, and humility before God. It ensures that the next generation honors the sacrifices of the present one, rather than squandering them in folly.

Practical actions must follow. Parents must teach with firmness but also with love, balancing correction with encouragement. They must set boundaries, uphold consequences, and live as examples of the respect they wish to see in their children. Families must reclaim the sacred duty of discipline, not leaving it to schools or law enforcement, for by then it may be too late. A child who learns respect at home will carry it into the classroom, the workplace, the streets, and even into his faith.

Thus, O listeners, heed the words of Phil Robertson: “Discipline your children, or they will respect no one.” In these words lies a warning and a promise. For if we teach respect, we build a society of order and reverence. But if we neglect it, we invite chaos, rebellion, and ruin.

And remember this eternal truth: discipline is the root of respect, and respect is the foundation of civilization. Raise your children with wisdom and firmness, and you will raise not only a household, but a future worthy of honor.