50 Prostitutes vs. 30 Judges

When you walk into a room, you carry something invisible with you.

It’s not your title.

It’s not your success.

It’s your legacy in motion, whether you’ve thought about it or not.

And if you don’t define it, someone else will. Usually, the culture will.

Let me take you back to a story that slapped me in the face years ago and still does every time I catch myself slipping into “neutral.”

The Tale of Two Men and Two Very Different Families

In the late 1800s, sociologist Richard L. Dugdale studied prison records in upstate New York and discovered something disturbing. Dozens of inmates were related, their lineage tracing back to one man: a frontiersman known as Max Juke.

Juke wasn’t evil. He was passive. Disengaged. A drifter who made his living through petty theft and tavern fights. He avoided education, dodged responsibility, drank heavily, and passed along nothing of lasting value. When faced with hard decisions, he chose the path of least resistance. When his kids needed guidance, he was absent, physically or emotionally. He modeled one thing: responsibility is optional.

Dugdale’s study traced hundreds of descendants across five generations. The pattern was devastating:

• Over 300 lived in poverty
• More than 400 lived destructive lifestyles
• 130 went to prison
• 60 were habitual thieves
• 7 were murderers
• Over 50 women became prostitutes
• Estimated cost to society: over $35 million in today’s dollars

Later research expanded to over 2,000 individuals, and the pattern held. Generation after generation learned the same lesson: When life gets hard, quit. When responsibility calls, run.

Now contrast that with Jonathan Edwards.

Born in 1703, Jonathan Edwards was a theologian, preacher, and eventually president of Princeton. Brilliant (admitted to Yale at 13), but he wasn’t just a scholar. He was a husband and father of 11 children, all raised with intentional rhythms of Scripture, prayer, conversation, and responsibility.

When one of his daughters struggled with anger, Edwards didn’t shame her. He walked with her each morning, helping her understand and master it. When his son Timothy showed business acumen, Edwards mentored him in ethical decision-making, ensuring profit never outran character.

His wife, Sarah, was equally influential. Intelligent, emotionally grounded, and fiercely present, she ran a home known for warmth, hospitality, and order. Edwards personally tutored his children daily and prioritized their spiritual formation alongside their academics.

Historian A.E. Winship studied over 1,400 of their descendants and found remarkable outcomes:

• 300 pastors, missionaries, or theological professors
• 120 college professors
• 110 attorneys
• 60 prominent authors
• 30 judges
• 13 college presidents
• 3 U.S. Senators
• 1 Vice President of the United States
• And not a single known criminal in the record

Note: While these historical accounts have been debated by modern historians, the principle they illustrate remains powerful and documented through countless other family studies.

Both men lived in early America. Both had large families. Both raised children on the frontier.

But only one led his home with intention.

Max drifted. Jonathan led.

That’s not just history. That’s a warning shot.

Every day you delay intentionality, drift gains ground.

What’s Your Version of “Max Juke” Right Now?

Most business owners I coach aren’t criminals or cowards.

They’re just exhausted.

Good men. Big hearts. Strong work ethic.

But they’re pulled in every direction by business, finances, team turnover, client pressure, and family dynamics.

And here’s the part most guys miss: You’re not just shaping your family. You’re modeling leadership for your team, your clients, your community.

Your assistant hears how you speak to your wife on the phone.

Your project manager watches how you respond when deals fall through.

Your kids observe whether you keep your word when it’s inconvenient.

And your spouse knows whether your private character matches your public reputation.

Here’s the trap: you think legacy is a someday thing. A will. A trust fund. An estate plan. Something you do when you’re 70.

It’s not.

You’re building legacy today in how you talk, how you treat your wife, how you discipline your kids, how you respond to stress, how you rest (or don’t), how you lead your team, and what you prioritize in your calendar.

And the worst part? If you don’t slow down long enough to assess it, you might be handing your kids and employees a burden you never meant to.

How Drift Starts (And Why It’s So Dangerous)

The Max Juke pattern doesn’t start with violence. It starts with seemingly small choices:

• Ignoring the little compromises (“just this once”)
• Justifying poor habits because of “stress”
• Believing success covers over character flaws
• Prioritizing profit over people consistently
• Telling yourself you’ll fix it “once things settle down”
• Outsourcing difficult conversations to avoid conflict
• Choosing efficiency over relationship-building every time

But nothing settles down.

And the longer you drift, the easier it is for that drift to compound and for those around you to normalize dysfunction.

Here’s the honest truth: You can build a profitable business while actively poisoning your home life, your marriage, and your internal peace.

You can be admired online while being avoided in your own home.

You can be praised in your church while your kids quietly detach.

You can be sought after for business advice while your own team questions your integrity.

That’s the gap you’ve got to close. Because that’s where legacy is decided.

What It Looks Like to Lead Like Jonathan Edwards

Edwards wasn’t perfect. He lived in a different era with different challenges. But his fruit didn’t lie.

He didn’t raise perfect kids. But he raised equipped ones.

So what did he do differently? Here are five key distinctions I believe business owners must reclaim if they want to leave a lasting legacy, starting now.

1. He Led With Vision, Not Just Goals

Edwards didn’t just want “well-behaved” kids or “success.” He wanted to raise a generation that feared God, served others, and thought deeply.

Most men today don’t have a vision for their family beyond “make enough money” and “don’t mess it up too bad.”

That’s not enough.

Your business has a mission, a vision, a strategy, and probably core values printed on a wall. But does your family?

Do your kids know the why behind your discipline, your priorities, your work ethic? Have you cast a vision that pulls your home forward?

Because when you don’t cast one, they’ll follow someone else’s.

Action Step: Write down three specific things you want people to say about your family in 20 years. Then identify the top two changes you need to make this month for that to become reality.

2. He Made Faith Practical, Not Theoretical

Edwards didn’t separate theology from daily life. He discipled his kids through real situations, not just Sunday school lessons.

Here’s the key: He didn’t outsource spiritual formation to church. He didn’t wait until they were teens. He built it into daily rhythms.

I’m not talking about preaching sermons at dinner. I’m talking about:

• Reading Scripture together and connecting it to real decisions
• Praying aloud for actual business challenges and family needs
• Talking openly about failure, grace, and courage
• Practicing generosity where your kids can see it
• Showing how faith and business decisions intersect

This doesn’t take an hour a day. It takes a mindset shift.

Action Step: Choose one spiritual discipline and practice it visibly with your family for the next 30 days. Let them see how your faith shapes your business decisions.

3. He Mastered Presence in the Chaos

Edwards had 11 kids, ran a church, wrote books, and led a college. He wasn’t a stay-at-home dad, but he made time to be truly present.

Presence isn’t measured in hours. It’s measured in attention.

Are you fully there when you’re home? Or still scanning your phone, half-tuned in, half-ticked off?

I’ve coached owners who are respected by thousands and unknown by their kids. When that happens, success becomes shame.

But it doesn’t have to.

Action Step: Create a specific “phone-free zone” each day (30 minutes minimum) where devices are put away and you’re fully present. No agenda except connection.

4. He Taught Through Example, Not Just Expectation

The Edwards family wasn’t built by lectures. It was built by lived values.

What do your people see in your daily habits?

Do they see a man who keeps his word when it’s costly? A man who apologizes first when he’s wrong? A man who disciplines himself so others don’t have to? A man who holds the line when culture caves?

Or do they see hustle without peace? Success without character? Expectations without modeling?

Your example doesn’t have to be flawless, but it does have to be real.

Action Step: Identify one area where your actions don’t match your stated values. Make a specific plan to close that gap this week, and do it out loud where others can see the change.

5. He Planned Beyond His Lifetime

The Edwards didn’t just pray big. They planned big.

The Jukes cost society millions. The Edwards contributed millions of hours in leadership, education, and service.

So ask yourself:

• Have you trained your successor, or just hoped one shows up?
• Does your business structure allow others to thrive without you?
• Is your estate plan collecting dust while your wealth grows?
• Are your kids ready to carry the weight of your wealth, or will it crush them?
• What systems are you building that will outlast you?

Action Step: Schedule three specific conversations this month: one with your attorney about estate planning, one with your key team members about succession, and one with your spouse about your family’s long-term vision.

This Isn’t About Perfection. It’s About Direction.

Let’s get real.

You’ve made mistakes. So have I. So did Jonathan Edwards.

But the story of legacy isn’t written in one act. It’s written in patterns. And patterns can change.

The decision you make today about your calendar, your team, your tone, your time: that decision changes your legacy’s direction.

You don’t need a perfect 10-year plan.

You need the courage to say: “Enough drift. I’m owning my role. I’m planting seeds today that my great-grandkids will thank me for.”

Because here’s the truth most men miss: Legacy isn’t someday. It’s now.

Every conversation. Every decision. Every day you choose intention over drift.

The question isn’t whether you’ll leave a legacy. You will.

The question is: What kind?