Hey Scout Leaders. I penned a little Blog post about the phrases that make a Scout Leader’s eye twitch back in 2019. Well, the world’s spun a few more times, technology has marched on (sometimes over us), and believe it or not, there are new ways to unintentionally poke the hibernating bear that is a tired Scout Leader.
Some classics remain stubbornly evergreen, like a poorly pitched tent in a gale. But the digital age and evolving societal quirks have gifted us fresh forehead-slappers. So, make a brew , find your comfiest camp chair, and let’s update the list of “Things Guaranteed to Make a Scout Leader Silently Scream Into Their Neckerchief – 2025 Edition.”
The Enduring Classics (Still Going Strong in 2025):
1. “It’s just an hour a week!”
Still? Really? Add the hours of programme planning, risk assessments that could rival a NASA launch doc, endless OSM admin, kit checks, training, shopping for 37 slightly different dietary needs, and the mental real estate it all occupies… yeah, “just an hour.” Bless.
2. “You get paid for this, don’t you?” / “Is this your full-time job?”
The eternal question. No, Brenda, this is powered by passion, Tea or coffee, and the occasional desperate need for five minutes of peace in the QM store. My “payment” is watching a Scout finally nail a Fire lighting or conquer their fear of heights are they take the mighty High Ropes 10 metres in the air at Paccar Scout Campsite.
3. “My child said they were BORED.”
Ah, yes. Because learning resilience, teamwork, or the intricate art of not setting the woods on fire is apparently less thrilling than their latest TikTok dance. Sometimes “bored” means “not being constantly entertained by a screen.”
The “New for the 2020s” Annoyances (Welcome to the Future, We Guess):
1. “I sent you a WhatsApp five minutes ago about the camp forms. Why haven’t you replied?”
Sent at 10:37 PM on a Friday evening. We have jobs, families, and a desperate need to occasionally stare blankly at a wall. We’re not on call 24/7, even if our phone feels like a phantom limb attached to the Scout Group’s nervous system.
2. “Can’t they just use their phone/AI to [look up that knot/navigate/identify that plant]?”
While we embrace tech where it helps, the point of half these activities is the doing, the learning, the disconnecting. Plus, try asking ChatGPT to put up a patrol tent in the rain. Go on, I’ll wait.
3. “Why do you need another risk assessment? We just did one for the park visit!”
Because, Kevin, assessing the risk of a rogue squirrel in the park is vastly different from assessing the risk of a teenager with an axe near a campfire, or navigating the complexities of an overnight event with 30 young people. Safeguarding isn’t a “one and done” checkbox; it’s a living, breathing (and slightly terrifying) beast.
4. “I saw this amazing activity on Instagram. Why aren’t YOU doing that with our Scouts?”
Usually followed by a description of something requiring a Hollywood budget, a team of stunt coordinators, or a casual disregard for all health and safety regulations. We’re volunteers, not miracle workers with unlimited resources and a magic wand.
5. “But [insert other group’s name] does amazing camps every month! Why can’t we do that?”
What you don’t see: their £50k equipment budget, army of parent volunteers, or the fact that their “amazing camp” was actually a disaster behind the scenes. Social media shows the highlights reel, not the leader having a quiet meltdown behind the patrol tent at 2 AM.
6. “Back in my day, we just [insert incredibly risky and unsupervised activity here] and we turned out fine!”
Yes, and “back in your day” seatbelts were optional, and we thought asbestos was a great insulator. Times change, understanding of safety evolves, and frankly, we quite like not having to explain preventable injuries.
7. “You’re so lucky, all that fresh air and running around. It must be like a holiday for you!”
Said by someone who has never tried to get 20 sugar-fuelled Beavers to walk in a vaguely straight line, or spent a wet weekend trying to keep spirits and tents up simultaneously. It’s rewarding, yes. A “holiday”? Ask me that when I’m defrosting my toes after a winter camp.
8. (After ignoring 17 emails, OSM notifications, and a note home via carrier pigeon) “Nobody TOLD me about [the deadline/kit list/change of plans]!”
The digital black hole where carefully crafted communications go to die. We try, folks. We really, really try. Check your spam, check OSM, maybe even… read the emails?
What We’d Actually Love to Hear in 2025 (and Beyond):
- “Thanks for everything you do.” (Simple, but gold.)
- “How can I help?” (The magic words!)
- “My child came home buzzing about [activity]!”
- “I’ve read the email and actioned the thing. Is there anything else I need to know?”
Look, we love Scouting. We love the chaos, the laughter, the mud, and the moments of sheer, unadulterated pride. We wouldn’t trade it. But a little understanding (and maybe a Thermos of hot coffee on a cold camp) goes a very, very long way.
What new-fangled phrases get your goat in this modern era of Scouting? Share your pain (and your wisdom) in the comments below!
Stay strong, fellow Scout Leaders!
BigManInTheWoods (Currently trialling a new badge: “Successfully Navigated a Parent WhatsApp Group Without Losing the Will to Live”)
2 Comments
Haha, the ‘just an hour a week’ comment still stings! It’s crazy how much goes into making each session run smoothly. The behind-the-scenes work is often completely overlooked, but we do it because those ‘Aha!’ moments make it all worthwhile!
Hi, I feel your pain. My grandfather was a Boy Scout Leader for many years of my life. He was in his late 60’s when he finally gave it up, but he was the best. Even when I was a teenager & was less of a scout & more of an assistant he did not stop. He was always on top of everything & had it all under control.
Behind the scenes; My grandfather had many of frustrations with parent opinions, questions & delusions of of how, what & where things should be or not be done. Loved the posts & again I understand your pain.