Narrator: Imagine crawling for hours through the scorching California desert, every muscle screaming, your time running out. You’re in Navy SEAL sniper school, and this is your final stalking exercise. Fail, and you’re out. You finally reach your firing position with mere minutes to spare, take aim, and fire. But then, disaster strikes. Your second shot is a dud. Your rifle fails you at the most critical moment. This is the high-stakes world of elite special operations, where success and failure hang on a razor's edge, determined by skill, luck, and an unwavering will to persevere.

What if the principles forged in these life-or-death scenarios could be repurposed for a different kind of asymmetrical warfare—the daily challenge of raising children? In his book, Do It on Purpose: How to Get Off Your Ass and Make Things Happen, former Navy SEAL Stephen Drum argues that the core tenets of SEAL training provide a powerful and effective framework for modern fatherhood, offering a clear path for fathers to lead their families with intention and strength.

Narrator: Drum’s central thesis is that the principles that create elite warriors are directly applicable to raising successful, well-adjusted children. He argues that many fathers are failing because they are "chasing the bull"—a sniper term for misdiagnosing a problem and repeatedly applying the wrong solution.

He illustrates this with the story of a sniper trainee on the range. The trainee fires at a target 800 yards away and misses to the right. Assuming his scope is off, he adjusts it left. But the real culprit was a gust of wind he didn't account for. On his next shot, the wind has died, and his "correction" sends the bullet flying to the left. Frustrated, he keeps adjusting his gear, never realizing the true, invisible force at play. Drum contends that fathers do the same thing. They see a problem with their child’s behavior and apply an obvious, intuitive fix—like punishment or a lecture—without ever diagnosing the underlying issue, such as a need for connection, guidance, or a better example.

To counter this, Drum proposes a SEAL-like approach: define the "end state." Instead of reacting to daily skirmishes, fathers must have a clear vision for the kind of adult they want to raise. This requires a shift from aimless movement, which is just effort, to purposeful action, which is effort with a meaningful objective. Parenting, in this view, is a mission that requires strategy, intelligence, and a clear goal.

Narrator: A core principle in the SEAL Teams is to lead from the front, and Drum argues this is a non-negotiable for fathers. This doesn't mean being an authoritarian commander, but rather acting as an "Advanced Force Operations" or AFO operative for the family.

Drum recounts a personal moment of clarity while sitting in an airport, preparing for a top-secret mission. He realized his role as a SEAL, scouting ahead to prepare the battlespace for his team, was identical to his role as a father. A father’s job is to go out ahead of his family, to scout the terrain of life, and prepare the way. This means understanding the challenges their children will face—in school, with technology, in their social lives—and equipping them with the knowledge and skills to navigate them successfully.

This leadership is demonstrated, not just declared. Drum emphasizes that children are always watching. A father who lives a life of purpose, integrity, and self-improvement provides a powerful model. As his wife, Belisa, states, "All we can do is be the people we want our kids to be and lead by example." Being physically present isn't enough; a father must be leading a life worth following.

Narrator: In the SEAL Teams, results are all that matter. Ego and the need to be right are liabilities that can get people killed. Drum asserts that this same mindset is crucial for effective parenting. He shares a story from his time as a sniper instructor to drive this point home.

An instructor named Tommy made a critical error, setting up targets at 400 yards instead of the required 300. For hours, the students struggled, unable to hit their marks. When confronted, Tommy stubbornly insisted he was right. It wasn't until another instructor proved the distance with a laser rangefinder that the mistake was confirmed. For his refusal to own the mistake, Tommy was hazed by his peers, who taped him up and gave him a "happy hat" made of riggers' tape. The lesson wasn't about the initial error; it was about his commitment to being right, which wasted time, frustrated the team, and eroded trust.

Drum applies this directly to fatherhood. Parents often get locked in battles of will with their children, determined to prove they are right. Instead, they should focus on what is effective. This requires humility, a willingness to admit mistakes, and the courage to take accountability. When Drum made a mistake by not checking the CO2 cartridges on his son's free-diving gear, he immediately owned it, telling his son he had put his life at risk. This act of vulnerability didn't make him look weak; it made him look trustworthy and taught his son a powerful lesson about accountability.

Narrator: A common saying in SEAL training is, "It's easier to keep up than catch up." Falling behind on a run doesn't just mean you're tired; it means you're sent to the "Goon Squad," where instructors push you through an agonizing series of extra exercises until you realize you had the strength to keep up all along. The pain of catching up is always greater than the pain of keeping up.

Drum argues this principle is the bedrock of consistent parenting. When parents become complacent—letting rules slide, ignoring small behavioral issues, or disengaging from their children's lives—they are falling behind. The effort required to "catch up" and correct a teenager who has gone off the rails is exponentially greater than the consistent, daily effort of staying engaged.

He uses the story of his Belgian Malinois, Indy, to illustrate this. When he shifted his focus away from her training, their bond frayed. Indy became confused and aggressive because the rules were no longer consistent. Rebuilding that trust took immense effort. Parenting, like dog training, requires constant "rudder corrections"—small, consistent adjustments that keep the relationship on course. There is no cruise control in parenting.

Narrator: In a firefight, hesitation is fatal. SEALs drill relentlessly so that in a moment of chaos, they can react decisively and effectively. They use "Immediate Action Drills" or IADs, which are pre-planned responses to common problems. This training removes hesitation and replaces it with instinct.

Drum shares a harrowing story from a boarding mission in the Persian Gulf. As his team fast-roped onto a hostile ship, they discovered the smugglers had booby-trapped their intended landing spot. With no time to think, the team leader instantly redirected them to a new insertion point. Later, when breaching the bridge, Drum and his teammate Larry Yatch faced a barricaded door. Without a word, they executed their practiced breach-and-enter drill, diving through a window to secure the bridge just as the ship was about to enter enemy waters. Any hesitation would have meant mission failure and a potential international incident.

For fathers, IADs are about preparing for likely parenting challenges. When his daughter Lea was being bullied, Drum didn't just give her advice; they practiced an IAD. They rehearsed a specific, non-confrontational question she could ask the bullies. When the moment came, Lea didn't hesitate. She acted, disarming the bullies and de-escalating the situation. By preparing for the fight, she was able to win it without throwing a punch.

Narrator: The most grueling challenges in SEAL training are often more mental than physical. Drum describes a 5.5-nautical-mile swim in the frigid Pacific, a 5.5-hour ordeal where his body was screaming to quit. What got him through was not physical strength, but mental discipline. He focused on his breathing, visualized past successes, and found a higher purpose to override the pain. This is the essence of "mind over matter."

Drum teaches that fathers can apply this same mental reframing to the monotonous or frustrating parts of parenting. Instead of seeing a chore as a burden, they can frame it as a building block toward the "end state" of raising a great human being. The purpose—the love for one's child and the legacy being built—is what gives the struggle meaning.

This mindset is encapsulated in the SEAL motto, "The only easy day was yesterday." It’s not a pessimistic complaint; it’s a forward-looking embrace of challenge. It means that growth only comes from pushing boundaries. Confidence isn't about believing you're perfect; it's about knowing you have the resilience to face tomorrow's challenges because you survived yesterday's.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from Do It on Purpose is the call for intentionality. Stephen Drum challenges fathers to stop being passive observers in their children's lives and to become active, strategic leaders. The core message is to abandon reactive, "chasing the bull" parenting and instead adopt a purposeful, mission-oriented mindset, where every action is a deliberate step toward a defined goal.

The book serves as a powerful reminder that the principles of elite performance—accountability, discipline, resilience, and leading by example—are not confined to the battlefield. They are the very tools needed to navigate the complex and vital mission of fatherhood. The ultimate challenge it leaves us with is not just for fathers, but for everyone: Are you simply moving through life, or are you acting on purpose?