The Crowd Favourite Says Everything
We asked the group a simple question: "What's something your old man taught you that stuck for life?"
Not "what inspirational quote did your dad frame on the wall?" Not "what lesson belongs on a corporate LinkedIn carousel?" Real advice. The sort that gets repeated for decades because it was yelled across a shed, muttered after a mistake, delivered in the ute, or learned the hard way by watching what not to become.
The runaway crowd favourite was Tony's answer:
"Hold the fucking torch properly."
That is not just a joke. Every bloke who has ever stood beside a dad, uncle, grandfather, mechanic, tradie, farmer, or backyard fixer knows exactly what that sentence means. It means pay attention. It means be useful. It means stop shining the light in his eyes. It means if you are going to stand there, contribute.
And that was the whole thread in miniature. Under the laughs, the swearing, and the rough edges, most of the advice came back to the same few things: listen more, work properly, keep your word, don't live beyond your means, be there for your kids, and don't be useless.
What the Comments Actually Showed
The group did not reward polished motivational fluff. It rewarded advice that felt lived-in. Here are the comments that hit hardest.
| Comment | Why it hit |
|---|---|
| "Hold the fucking torch properly." | Every bloke recognised the scene instantly. It was funny because it was true. |
| "You've got 2 ears and 1 mouth, listen twice as much as you speak." | Simple, useful, and still hard for most people to follow. |
| Never shake hands sitting down, work hard for the right reasons, never be late, manners are free, trust your instincts, don't put a man down, duct tape and WD-40. | It read like an entire dad handbook in one comment. |
| "If you can't pay cash, you don't deserve it." | The thread strongly respected old-school money discipline. |
| "If something seems too good to be true, it usually is." | A classic warning that still survives because it keeps proving itself right. |
| "Society doesn't work if everyone takes out more than they put in." | This turned individual advice into a bigger rule about contribution. |
| "If you can't afford interest rate rises, you can't afford the house." | A painfully practical housing lesson many people wish they heard earlier. |
| "How not to be a husband and father…" | Some of the strongest lessons came from men deciding not to repeat what they saw. |
Lesson One: Listen Before You Open Your Mouth
Ben's comment was one of the strongest responses in the thread:
"You've got 2 ears and 1 mouth, listen twice as much as you speak."
It is the kind of line that sounds too simple until you notice how many problems it would solve. Arguments. Bad decisions. Ego. Misread situations. Talking over people. Digging a hole because you needed the last word.
A few others said the same thing in rougher language. One commenter wrote that the loudest person in the room usually knows "fuck all." Another shared the classic warning: it is better to say nothing and look like an idiot than to speak and remove all doubt.
That was one of the clearest themes. Dad advice is often not about becoming louder or tougher. Sometimes it is about shutting up long enough to learn something.
Lesson Two: Your Word Still Matters
A lot of the comments came back to old-school respect. Not performative respect. Not "respect me because I said so." More the basic social contract: shake properly, look a man in the eye, keep your word, turn up when you said you would, and don't be a flog when nobody is watching.
One of the highest-ranking comments was basically a full manual:
"Never shake a man's hand sitting down… Work hard for the right reasons. Never be late. Manners are free. Trust your instincts. Never put a man down, extend a hand."
Another commenter put it even more directly: "Do the right thing even when no one is watching."
There were repeated versions of the handshake rule too: stand up, firm grip, eye contact. The point was not really about the handshake. It was about presence. If you are meeting someone, meet them properly. If you are giving your word, mean it. If you are dealing with another person, do not be half-hearted about it.
That is probably why "manners are free" kept appearing. It is not complicated, but plenty of people still manage to stuff it up.
Lesson Three: Money Lessons Hurt Less When You Learn Them Early
The thread had a strong streak of financial advice, and none of it sounded like it came from a wealth podcast. It was blunt, cautious, and usually shaped by someone who had seen debt bite.
The biggest money line was:
"If you can't pay cash, you don't deserve it."
Whether someone agrees with it literally or not, the principle landed: don't build a life on repayments you can barely carry.
Damien shared a more specific version that feels very current: "If you can't afford interest rate rises, you can't afford the house."
There were other variations too. Spend less than you earn. Save and invest the difference. Don't go into debt for depreciating assets. Cash is king. Buy nice or buy twice. If something seems too good to be true, it usually is.
None of it was flashy. That was the point. The best dad money advice in the thread was not about getting rich quickly. It was about not being trapped by dumb decisions.
Lesson Four: Work Hard, But Not Stupid
One of the better comments drew a line between working hard and getting ahead:
"Being a hard worker with no skills or ambition will leave you broken and broke by 40. Being a skilled worker with ambition and drive will see you retire by 60."
That comment stood out because it pushed past the basic "work hard" message. Plenty of fathers teach effort. The better lesson is that effort needs a direction.
Other comments hit the same practical note. Learn skills. Be good with your hands. Turn up on time. Do the job properly. Preventative maintenance beats catastrophic repairs. Grease is cheap. Put the nut back on the bolt it came from. Cut away from yourself with a knife. There is no such thing as a five-minute job.
That is why the torch comment worked so well. Holding the torch properly is not about the torch. It is the first rung on the ladder of usefulness. Watch what is happening. Anticipate what is needed. Do not stand there like furniture.
A lot of men clearly grew up around lessons that were half trade school, half character test.
Lesson Five: Be There, or Become the Warning
Not every answer was warm. Some of the strongest comments came from blokes who said their old man taught them what not to do.
Jordan wrote: "I did the opposite of my old man. Like being present for my kids."
Daniel's comment was harsher, but it hit for a reason: "How not to be a husband and father… or hold down a job."
There were others in the same lane: don't leave your family, don't abandon your kids, don't repeat the damage, don't become the bloke everyone else has to recover from.
This is where the thread stopped being just funny. A lot of dad advice is spoken. But some of it is absorbed by watching. A father can teach by example, or he can teach by becoming the example his son refuses to follow.
That second kind of lesson is heavier, but it still sticks.
Lesson Six: The Best Advice Often Comes Wrapped in Rubbish Jokes
It would be dishonest to pretend the whole thread was noble. There were crude jokes, bad taste one-liners, relationship warnings, pub logic, and plenty of comments that were more larrikin than life-changing.
Some of it was funny. Some of it was the sort of thing you would quote at a barbecue and immediately regret if your mum walked past. Some of it does not need to be repeated or amplified.
But even the rougher comments showed something about how men pass advice around. They rarely package it neatly. They hide it inside jokes. They make it sound disposable. They swear at it. They turn pain into a line. They make lessons easier to carry by making them funny.
That is why a comment like "Tough times don't last, tough people do" sat beside jokes about torches, tools, beers, and five-minute jobs. The serious and stupid live right next to each other in real conversations.
Bottom Line
The best dad advice in the group was not polished. It was not always gentle. Some of it was rough enough to need a clean-up before you would put it in front of a wider audience.
But the reason it landed is obvious. These were not theories. They were lines men had carried for years because they came attached to a moment, a mistake, a laugh, a hard day, or a bloke they still miss.
The crowd favourite was "hold the fucking torch properly," and honestly, that might be the perfect dad lesson. It is funny on the surface, but underneath it is everything: pay attention, help properly, learn the job, and stop making life harder for the person trying to teach you.
Not every old man gets it right. Some teach wisdom. Some teach warnings. But either way, the lessons stick.