A child is not born bad. There are no evil babies. There are however evil adults. So how do the dots connect between an innocent newborn child and an evil adult? (Leaving aside of course any medical/psychological issues or traumas sustained and speaking merely of the average child...)

Mothers (and fathers) punish children for misbehaving, for breaking boundaries, for breaching family rules, for displaying unsocial behaviour in public, for impoliteness, for disobedience. They punish children by the politically correct way of taking away privileges, denying treats, impounding their property and incarcerating them in their rooms, or in 'naughty corners'. Or... by the increasingly politically incorrect method of corporal punishment... They raise voices, hands and sometimes even fists in order to maintain dominance and enforce authority.

The successful adult outcome of this 'punishment' is an individual who adheres to the concept of authority, recognises consequences, dreads disobedience, and accepts retribution for PERCEIVED anti-social or improper behaviour. This adult will pay his dues, avoid PERCEIVED inappropriate behaviour and live within PERCEIVED socially acceptable boundaries. This perception ever changing, the boundaries ebbing and flowing, mores and values in constant evolution...

They become a model citizen, one who will cause few 'problems', accept each new rule and regulation without question and live a PROPER life, for to do otherwise would invoke any amount of retribution.

They will never question authority, they will never question these evolving boundaries, they will never question the accelerating loss of their privacy and their freedoms. They will live regulated lives; they will work in regulated environments and aspire only to those things that are deemed appropriate within their society. Overriding every aspect of their living will be the constant fear of punishment, and the loss of freedoms. Thus, they may be timid in their endeavours, mundane in their living and totally nondescript in their existence.

Or. They may so resent the years of inflicted punishment they may begin punishing others as a form of revenge or for the satisfaction received by being in turn, the punisher. A child does as a child sees. A child constantly punished may over time evolve into an adult who perpetuates the experienced violence in varying degrees...

My children have never been punished. Instead, they have been advised to negotiate. If an argument arises between them, they know they should discuss the issue and arrive at a mutually satisfactory outcome. If they do not like something, they present their case and negotiate towards something acceptable for all involved. Since they have no threat of punishment in their lives, they do not fear, and therefore do not shy away from voicing their opinions, presenting arguments and challenging concepts.

Eliminating the existence of 'punishment' has eliminated the idea of being punished and remarkably, has resulted in no behaviours or actions that would have led to this need for punishment. It seems that by never introducing punishment, the usual causes for punishment have also never been instigated?

My children have never been punished because they have never given me reason to punish them. It sounds strange to say this, unbelievable. Yet I have laughed rather than felt anger, and I have enjoyed their antics instead of feeling 'powerless'. I have marvelled at their ingenuity and their resilience when things go wrong or situations occur unexpectedly. I sit here trying to think of a time when I've experienced what other mothers have described - this feeling of losing control, losing authority, feeling overwhelmed - and I cannot find a single occasion.

I do remember one time, down on the coast, they had some friends over and one of the girls - my boys were about 14 and 15 at the time - broke the window in their room. I heard the crash of glass. These were floor to ceiling windows, divided into four vertical panels and the top right one had a massive jagged hole in it.

I asked what happened and was told everyone had been tussling with each other over a ball they'd found down the street and 'someone' had flung the ball at the window. There was a flurry of apologies - except from this one girl. I didn't say anything. I went back to my room. An hour later, Dylan called me.

They'd gone under the house, found some packing boxes, pulled them apart, cleared all the broken bits of glass and then used masking tape to cover the hole with the cardboard. Living on the hillside, we often got magpies, cockatoos and some smaller birds fighting amongst themselves and at times smacking against the windows.

After their friends left I asked the boys, "Was it a magpie or a cockatoo?" (We'd had a smaller window broken by a magpie at our former rental, and the landlord had had to pay for the replacement there.) And yes, this was a test of sorts...

"Magpie." Dylan said.

"Nuh, cockatoo this time," Marcus added, seeing as a few of them were screeching on the plum tree outside.

There was a brief silence as they both studied the window.

"This hole's too big mum. I think we have to pay for it." Marcus said in the end.

"Uh huh." (Yes!)

"You know how she didn't apologise mum?" Dylan added a little later, wandering into my room. "I think there's something going on. She doesn't ask anyone over to her house anymore."

Now this girl came from a well-to-do family. They had a large property along the back beach. She was an only child, spoilt and - let's call her a little privileged? I'd met her parents, both professionals - the uptight, highly strung type. They were not ones to consider this their problem. She would probably not tell them anyway. She was also not my child. I could not act outside of my own environment and if she clearly felt no remorse, then it was not my place to interfere. It did bother me though.

So we paid for the repair and the window got fixed. Funny thing is though, next time this girl visited, she came to my room and apologised. Yep. We had a good discussion. It had been an accident, I assured her and she had helped with the temporary fix. She acknowledged that she should have apologised in the moment, but had felt frightened that I might yell at her or send her away. She admitted she got yelled at a lot at home these days - a fact which had surprised me.

So by me not reacting the way she had expected, (yelling and/or placing blame) it had made her think. During the discussion, she also revealed her mother was having 'problems' and was taking medications, causing her to act "not like her real self". I understood then that her initial 'lack of reaction' had more to do with the reality of what she was facing at home, than her publicly assumed 'privileged' life...

I asked Dylan later if he'd been aware of any changes. He said she'd been "kinda quiet lately". I explained her current home situation. He said "I think her mum might have cancer? I heard one of the other girls say she had started treatment?"

She spent a lot of time at our place over the next months. Always came to my room and after her initial shyness, explained what was going on: The changed home environment, her fears about her mother, her mother's sudden insecurity - her loss of control - resulting in petty arguments... I helped her as best I could. Understanding that if I had yelled or displayed annoyance when the glass had been broken, I would never have been in a position to offer this needed support... My sons also would not have had the opportunity to 'help a friend' during a difficult time.

So yeah, the successful adult outcome of this is an individual who is able to fortunately negotiate any conflict to a mutually beneficial outcome. This individual is willing to question systems and concepts, is open to challenging authority with valid arguments and does not blindly adhere to socially imposed assumptions without thoroughly investigating the purpose and the impact on their life and their community.

(In the instance of the broken window, my sons combined efforts with their friends to temporary solve the problem, acknowledged that yes, there was more to the story than what appeared on the surface, and understood how different the outcome might have been if they had simply attached blame and 'assumed' themselves.)

I was told I should have punished my boys for playing ball in the house. I was told I should have made her apologise. I was told I should have fronted up to her house and demanded her parents' pay for the damage. I question what that stance would have achieved...