Remember when NASA launched the Mars Rover?

On November 26, 2011, a car-sized object named Curiosity began its 350 million mile voyage to the surface of Mars. Along the way, engineers on Earth remotely fired this vehicle’s engines, in what’s known as a TCM (trajectory correction maneuver) — adjusting its path so it would arrive at its pre-determined destination within acceptable mission parameters. TCM’s, which have been going on at NASA since the Mariner 2 mission to Venus in 1962, are basically what fathers do when they intervene in their children’s lives.

Children are like bowling balls — sort of

When you throw a bowling ball down a fiberglass alley at a triangle of tenpins, there’s a lot of invisible math happening right up inside your meat computer. Your brain, reconciling its memory of what your hand just did, starts in on a simulation of a forecasted outcome. And if you’re like me, you stand there, eyes going from the ball to the pins, hands clenched, just staring forward like a dope. And if the ball doesn’t comply with the simulation inside your head, your body begins to contort, as though your hips will somehow impact the weak and strong forces acting on the ball.

Think of bowling balls launched into space

The journey a kid undertakes, from childhood to adulthood, is something in between the bowling ball example and that of the Mars rover Curiosity. As your kid ventures further out into the world to explore and learn, you realize that in some cases, you can actually make adjustments when things go wrong. This is much truer at the beginning of parenthood, when your kid is small and highly dependent on you. For example, maybe she plays with a strange new boy at the playground, and winds up trying to do a trick on the monkey bars she wasn’t ready for. She falls and bangs her head. You run over and scoop her up and give her a hug and dust off her pants. No big deal.

But…

☝🏽 This approach doesn’t exactly SCALE. One day, your kid is going to want to go places and do things that aren’t in your line-of-sight. And you as a dad know the world doesn’t give a rat’s ass about your kid. So little by little, you try and gird yourself for this eventuality — a kind of exposure therapy where you incrementally raise the stakes, similar to how Milo of Croton lifted that bull. This way, the distance between your kid’s decisions and your ability to mitigate the consequences of those decisions grow at an imperceptible rate of change.

Bowling balls launched into space (like children) eventually drift beyond your sphere of control

In no particular order, your kid will one day want to…

• Pick her own snacks at the store

• Go to sleepovers

• Own a phone

• Keep her internet passwords secret

• Start riding the subway. Alone. At night. 😬

• Learn how to drive

• Possess a credit card

• Attend college on the other side of the country

All that distance adds up

And suddenly, you realize: if something goes seriously wrong, you won’t be around to soften the blow or mitigate any disasters.

Which is why a father must be like a NASA engineer

Remember the TCM (trajectory correction maneuver)?

TCM — come again?!

A TCM is a carefully planned series of remotely detonated rocket ignitions intended to adjust the trajectory of a moving object in space… well-timed-explosions that engineers apply to spacecraft in ways that a bowler only wishes he could apply to a ball after it’s released from his hands. They are also what fathers do with their daughters. The point is not to keep doing TCM’s as long as possible — the point is to teach your kid how to execute their own as soon as possible.