Better to Be Feared or Loved? Parenting Advice From a 500-Year-Old Political Strategist
Machiavelli probably never changed a diaper. And he didn’t raise his seven kids in an era of screens and social media. But somehow, the guy understood power dynamics better than half the parenting books out there.
In The Prince, he said a ruler should ideally be both loved and feared, but if you have to pick one, fear is the safer bet. That line has been dissected for centuries. But what happens when you apply it to modern parenting? Are we supposed to be the benevolent leader or the cold, calculating tyrant who gets stuff done?
Let’s drag this dusty Renaissance philosophy into the 2020s and see if it still holds up.
In this article:
A Century of Power Shifts in Parenting
When Fear Leads the House
When Love Is All You Bring to the Table
Real-Life Examples of Fear-Based, Love-Based, and Hybrid Parenting
Lead Like a Parent, Not a Peer or a Tyrant
A Century of Power Shifts in Parenting
In the early 1900s, parenting was mostly fear-based. Obedience was the goal, and respect was often just a euphemism for obedience. Corporal punishment was standard. Fathers were the disciplinarians, while mothers kept children alive.
If you grew up before 1995, you likely heard at least one of the following go-to parenting lines:
“Don’t make me come over there.”
“Just wait until your father gets home.”
“I’ll give you something to cry about.”
“Keep it up and see what happens.”
“I brought you into this world, and I can take you out.”
Fast-forward a few decades, and we’ve swung hard in the opposite direction. Fear-based parenting is now shorthand for trauma, and anything resembling authoritarianism is seen as outdated or abusive.
Attachment parenting, gentle parenting, and positive discipline have become the default buzzwords. Love, empathy, and emotional safety are the new foundation. We don’t “discipline,” we “redirect.” We don’t give consequences, we give “choices.”
When Fear Leads the House
Fear-based parenting is firm, authoritative, and absolute. Kids are supposed to be seen and not heard, and their big feelings aren’t coddled. It doesn’t matter if you like your parents, just that you obey to them.
Parents expect respect, but don’t model it.
Discipline is swift, harsh, and often physical.
“No” isn’t negotiable.
“Why?” is seen as disrespect, not communication.
“Because I said so” is a full sentence.
But fear doesn’t build trust. It builds silence. Kids might comply, but only because they’re afraid of what happens if they don’t. They hide their mistakes, lie to avoid consequences, and grow up thinking vulnerability equals weakness.
While it can create kids who follow rules, it often fails to create adults who trust themselves. They second-guess their choices, struggle with emotional intimacy, and confuse people-pleasing with being “good.” Fear gets results, but it costs connection.
Related: Is FAFO Parenting the Philosophy We All Needed?
When Love Is All You Bring to the Table
Gentle parenting is soft, empathetic, and validating. It tells us that kids don’t need to be controlled. They need to be understood.
Kids are talked to like adults.
“No” is a dirty word, so everything becomes a negotiation.
Tantrums are “communication,” and rules are “invitations.”
Parents feel like villains for enforcing anything.
But gentle parenting can feel like emotional gymnastics for the parent. You’re constantly regulating yourself, narrating every meltdown, and trying to stay calm while someone screams in your face about the color of their cup. It asks a lot (sometimes too much) from adults who were never given those tools themselves.
When done well, it can build incredibly open and respectful relationships, but it can also leave parents drained and kids confused if there’s no structure to ground all that empathy.
Real-Life Examples of Fear-Based, Love-Based, and Hybrid Parenting
My high school best friend’s mom was doing gentle parenting before it had a name. She wanted to be our friend, and because of that, we trusted her. We talked to her about boys and sex, and she didn’t flinch. She let us be teenagers without shame.
That was a sharp contrast to my own mom, who set curfews and expected good grades. I couldn’t talk to her about who I liked because I simply wasn’t allowed to date.
To her credit, my mom was doing better than her even stricter parents had. She grew up in a deeply religious household where she wasn’t allowed to be alone in a room with a boy but somehow expected to be someone’s modest, obedient wife.
The results?
My high school best friend didn’t leave home until she got married. And when that fell apart, her parents moved in with her.
My mom didn’t have a real relationship with her parents. When they died, she didn’t go to either of their funerals because there was nothing left to grieve.
And I learned independence, how to function without a safety net, and to call my mom at least every three days to catch up.
We were each shaped differently. My mom ran her race alone. My friend leaned so hard she never learned to walk. And I learned to reach out without losing my footing.
Lead Like a Parent, Not a Peer or a Tyrant
Machiavelli wasn’t wrong. You do need authority to lead. But you don’t have to weaponize fear to get it. And love without structure just turns you into their emotional support animal.
Here’s what actually works in the real world:
Set clear, non-negotiable boundaries and follow through.
Stay calm when enforcing consequences. Don’t yell, don’t beg, don’t negotiate.
Validate emotions without letting them run the show.
Let them be mad at you. You’re a parent, not a friend.
Use authority like a tool, not a threat.
Love them fiercely, but don’t let that love make you their crutch.
Authority without compassion becomes control. Compassion without authority becomes chaos. You need both. You are the leader of this tiny, volatile, sticky-fingered kingdom. Act like it.
Because if you don’t, they’ll fill the power vacuum themselves. And no one wants a preschooler with Machiavellian tendencies.
