In the past three years, my wife and I have trained two teenage boys to drive. We’re now on No. 3.

I admit: we’ve had a few white-knuckled rides, stomping an imaginary brake while trying to calmly instruct about potential hazards ahead.

As an instructor, you must render measured, compassionate guidance because there is a disconnect between your voice and the teenage brain.

What you say: “Slow down there a bit.”

What they hear: “YOU’RE A LOUSY DRIVER!!!”

This week, the AJC ran a story that the Legislature may consider having driver education programs again in schools and even raising the driving age from 16 to 17. The latter won’t happen, said House Public Safety Chairman Rep. Alan Powell, because “at the age of 16, parents are tired of having to carry their kids around.”

Not having to cart around your precious, grumbling teenage cargo is a wonderful thing. But each kid is different and must be ready before he’s allowed to fly solo.

My youngest has been 16 for six months but is in no hurry to get his license. He’s driven dozens of hours under the nervous gaze of his parents but is a cautious kid by nature. My wife jokes we need to get him a Buick LeSabre because he drives like he’s on an errand to pick up orthopedic stockings.

That’s a good thing because newly licensed 16-year-old drivers are statistically more dangerous than unguided missiles. The rate of serious wrecks for 16-year-olds is twice that of 18-year-olds and four times that of 20-somethings, according to a British study.

“It’s a high-risk period when teens are out there on their own,” said Arthur Goodwin, a senior research associate at the University of North Carolina Highway Safety Research Center. “Mom and Dad are no longer with them. They are in full control.”

That’s a terrifying thought for every parent. Last month, I covered the funeral in Gwinnett County of Jared and Jaison Brown, two popular teens killed when Jared, 17, turned in front of a vehicle on their way to school. The event was wrenching and a sobering reminder about how suddenly it can be over.

Driving is an exercise in thinking

2,524 teens died in motor-vehicle crashes in 2013, according to the U.S. Department of Transportation, but that is down from nearly 10,000 in the late 1970s. Better training, safer cars, seatbelts and possibly a different mindset are the reasons.

There is obviously a lot to impart to young drivers, and even if it’s all done right, it might not be enough.

So, as we get closer to my youngest son’s first solo journey, I’m trying to download 40 years of driving knowledge into his brain. The odd thing about the process is trying to explain the 1,001 things — both conscious and unconscious — that one does while undertaking a “routine” drive.

Goodwin and his safety investigators hooked up cameras to 50 families teaching their teens to drive. They found that parents mostly remain calm and are good about teaching the mechanics of driving. They aren’t necessarily keen at teaching the thinking of driving.

Part of the exercise to is say what you are seeing, what you are thinking, why you are thinking it and enumerating the myriad choices that others might make that could suddenly affect you.

Often, it’s a case of “OK, you see that yo-yo up there? I think that guy is getting ready to veer into our lane.” How do you know this? Maybe you’ve seen their tires kiss the lane dividers. Or the driver glanced back. Or he sped up after driving slowly.

Always remember, the world is filled with idiots, people who for no apparent reason make sudden and dramatic moves that threaten your life and property. You can only control so much, and you must control what you can and anticipate what others might do.

“You have to read the body language of other cars,” said my reporting colleague Russell Grantham, who learned to drive while dodging steers and tumbleweeds in west Texas.

Do as I say, not as I do

That’s the key, that is exactly what gets new drivers in trouble, said Goodwin.

“A beginning teen driver assumes everyone will do what is right,” he said. “Experienced drivers have a gut instinct. It’s a feeling you get of ‘I don’t trust this guy’ or ‘Watch out for this guy.’”

“A lot of it is instinctive,” he said. And by instinct, he means skill derived through rote repetition — trial and error, with the hope that the errors are not catastrophic.

You look through the windows of cars in front of you to see whether the vehicles ahead of them are stopping. Glance into the rear-view mirror frequently to see who is coming up on you. Always assume there’s someone in the blind spot. Always assume that the knucklehead coming out of the mall will not stop and will barge blindly into traffic. Always know that the line of traffic slowing in the lane next to you means that somebody is going to dart into your path. Know that a red light never actually stopped anyone.

And don't touch that phone! But say it nicely.

One might say it’s an exercise in faith to head out onto I-285 sitting next to a driver you taught to read not that long ago. The state of Georgia says that 40 hours of driving with parents are needed before one is road-ready, although that seems a bit light. Experts say it should be more and under varied road conditions, although they are not sure as to what is the right amount of time. Swedish investigators say 120 hours is good, although the Swedes are a fussy, safety-conscious lot.

Part of teaching is to avoid passing on your bad habits — you know, the things they’ve seen you do for the past 16 years. At some point, you must let your students know that it’s not necessarily good to:

  • "punish" tail-gaters by tapping your brakes.
  • gesture to others when they cut you off.
  • speed up to catch green lights because catching a red light is, after all, a personal defeat.

That is the hope, that the next generation is better than you. And safer.