He never raised a hand to us. He always said that inflicting pain, even as a last resort, was a sign that intelligence had been exhausted. He said smacking just passed on violence as an inheritance. But he was not soft with his words; when he called you to order, it pulled you up sharp. It wasn’t just a case of not teaching children to hit out. He believed the far more important lesson for the child was to realise that there are always words. However bad a child’s behaviour, there were always more words; the time to stop talking was never a point he would reach.