A long time ago my sister told me a story about some conflict she had with dad. Dad said, “there’s no manual for how to raise kids.” My sister was tempted to give him a Bible – and while there is some good stuff in the Bible about raising kids, it really doesn’t fit the need. It’s not an adequate training manual for parents.

There was a book, years ago, titled “All I Really Need to Know I Learned from Watching Star Trek.” There’s some truth to that. Star Trek has always been a morality tale, and there are some solid messages (and some galactic-level stupidity) in Star Trek.

One day those two ideas collided in my mind and I wondered if it would even be possible that Spock wouldn’t know how to raise a kid (if he had one). Surely the Vulcans would have a manual on precisely how to do everything, when to do it, etc.

Recently I’ve been reflecting on all the things my parents didn’t have to teach me. There were so many things we simply absorbed from TV, music, swim team, scouts, school, band, and even my friends in the neighborhood. It wasn’t all perfect, of course, but there was something like an “ambient decency” that suffused the culture.

That’s all gone now.

That saying “it takes a village to raise a child” is true in at least two respects. First, the parents can’t do it all. They don’t have the knowledge or the skills. Second, even if they did, they can’t raise a kid with a set of values that the culture is constantly undermining. If it’s only mom and dad saying, “no sex before marriage,” and the culture is shouting “go for it!” – it’s pretty obvious which way a hormone-crazed teenager is going to go.

It’s not only sex, of course. Hard work. Prudence. Diligence. Dressing decently. Being respectful. If mom and dad’s lessons aren’t supported and affirmed by at least some of the rest of society, the kids will think they were raised by weirdoes and will go their own way.

The catastrophe of the 80s

One of my biggest regrets is not having the wisdom to understand how consequential this societal change was.

I was bright enough to realize there was no shared culture any longer. Large scale changes were wreaking havoc on the American mind: feminism, the sexual revolution, economic changes, cable TV, the decline of religious and civic organizations, a generalized feeling of guilt about western culture, the rise of therapeutic culture, and much more.

I was not bright enough to compensate adequately. I still expected my kids to absorb certain things, the way I did. It just seemed like the natural process of growing up. I mean, it’s pretty doggone obvious how to change a tire on a car, or to know that the highway half a mile from the house goes north and south.

No, it’s not, of course, and that’s the problem. One of the hard things about life is that you don’t know what you don’t know, and what’s obvious to you isn’t obvious to other people.

For example, I grew up shooting. By the time I was eight I knew more about gun safety than Alec Baldwin knew when he was 63. I’ve taken friends to the gun range and recoiled in horror at the way they treat a shotgun.

It’s very hard to remember what it’s like not to know something, which is why we have safety officers who make sure we follow the rules. It can be annoying when the guy at the jet ski place gives you the five-minute lecture, but he has to assume you don’t know what you’re doing.

My parents could reasonably rely on the “ambient decency” of the culture to fill in some gaps. They didn’t have to lecture me on everything all the time. They knew that their values would be generally upheld and reinforced by my teachers, coaches, scout leaders, other parents in the neighborhood, and so on.

Now the kids are exposed to “ambient indecency.” The culture is at war with your values. It’s actively trying to tear them down.

It’s not just values

I was at mom’s house fixing a door for her one day, and she asked if dad taught me how to do it. I thought, “Of course not. This is obvious. Nobody had to teach me how to do this.”

While I can’t remember dad ever teaching me how to work on a door, I’m not sure I had that quite right. Dad did teach me a way of looking at things, and a confidence to try. One summer day when I was 16, dad called me from work and told me to get the model number off the dryer, go to the Sears parts store, get a replacement belt, and change the dryer belt (which had broken the night before). He didn’t give me that many details. He just gave me the basics and expected me to figure it out.

At that time (1979), that was a reasonable assumption. Kids had shop class in school. They watched when somebody else worked on a car, sharpened a knife, whittled a stick, or tied a knot. They listened while Pop Pop smoked a pipe and told tales of the stupid things people do. They absorbed a certain mechanical proficiency from the air all around them.

This led me to the false belief that I didn’t need to teach these things. The kids would just get it on their own — the way I did. I mean … it’s obvious stuff, right?

No, it’s not. They didn’t have a supportive culture that generally pointed kids in the right direction. They had a poisoned culture that pointed them to lies, an entertainment culture that made video games more important than learning how to change a tire, and absolutely no emphasis on basic competence.

That was 30 years ago. It’s only getting worse.

The camping checklist

After you’ve been on a few trips – camping, business, fishing, whatever – you get tired of forgetting things. Some people have the mental discipline to keep those lessons in mind. I make checklists.

Before each trip I review the checklist to see if I’ve forgotten anything. It reduces anxiety and assures I won’t end up at the campsite with no tent pegs. (Provided I remember to consult the checklist!)

Which raises the question, what would that Vulcan training manual look like?

Thinking about that got me wondering what it’s like to be a psychologist, counselor, or therapist. It’s an interesting challenge. Some stranger walks into your office and you have to assess how this person is doing in life. Is he prospering or drowning?

There have to be some markers. Some tells. Some metrics. There has to be some analogy to the camping checklist.

So, here you have it. Here’s my first draft of a checklist of life skills.

If you’re a parent, you should review this. Are your children learning these things? How do you know? If they’re not, what do you need to do to make sure they do learn them?

Life Skills Checklist

1. Identity and Personal Responsibility

Do they understand that they are not a victim of their circumstances?
Do they take responsibility for their choices, actions, and consequences?
Do they know their strengths and limitations without false pride or self-loathing?
Are they learning to delay gratification?

2. Moral and Spiritual Compass

Do they understand the difference between right and wrong, and that there are some things you just don’t do?
Do they have a working understanding of your family’s core moral/spiritual framework (e.g., the Ten Commandments, the Golden Rule, Natural Law)?
Are they aware that a good conscience must be formed and doesn’t develop naturally?
Do they have a sense of meaning and purpose beyond themselves and their own desires?

3. Relationships and Social Skills

Do they have friends?
Can they make and keep friends for a significant period of time?
Do they treat others with respect, and expect respect in return?
Can they manage conflict without exploding or collapsing?
Do they take everything personally?
Do they understand how romantic relationships work—including asking someone out, dating with respect, establishing sexual boundaries, embracing commitment, etc.?
Do they understand what marriage is for, and why it matters?

4. Work Ethic and Competence

Do they know how to work hard—even when it’s boring or difficult?
Do they understand the value of money, time, and effort?
Are they learning to finish what they start?
Do they have any practical or marketable skills? (Do they realize that nobody’s going to pay them because of their wonderful uniqueness?)
Can they function in a workplace (e.g., show up on time, follow instructions, manage a boss)?

5. Habits of Self-Maintenance

Are they learning to care for their body with proper nutrition, exercise, sleep, and basic hygiene?
Are they learning self-control with digital devices, entertainment, and dopamine triggers?
Do they recognize unhealthy coping mechanisms (e.g., porn, drugs, compulsive scrolling)?
Are they forming any healthy routines?

6. Vision for the Future

Do they have goals or a sense of purpose?
Do they understand what adulthood requires—education, work, family, civic duties?
Do they have a mental model of what “a good life” looks like (e.g., married, stable, contributing, grounded)?
Do they know how to navigate failure and keep moving forward?

7. Civic and Cultural Awareness

Do they understand how society works—government, money, media, etc.?
Are they learning to question cultural narratives and spot manipulation or propaganda?
Do they feel a sense of responsibility to their community or nation?

8. Resilience and Mental Strength

Can they handle rejection, failure, or discomfort without melting down?
Are they being challenged regularly—physically, intellectually, and socially?
Do they know how to ask for help when necessary?

You shouldn’t have to do this

If we lived in a decent society, most of these things would be in the air we all breathed. It would be common knowledge.

Kids used to pick up half these things from Leave It to Beaver, teachers, scoutmasters, coaches, and ministers, without anybody spelling it out.
Needless to say, that’s not the case today. If parents don’t explicitly pass these things on, there’s a good chance no one will.