When I was growing up, there was no such thing as time-out. Whenever I acted out of line, my parents smacked me in the jaw with a sandal, a ladle, or whatever else was at hand. Depending on what theories you adhere to, I turned out all right because of, or in spite of, timely application of corporal discipline.
After getting smacked enough times (I'm a slow learner), two truths dawned on me: (1) getting smacked in the mouth really hurts, and (2) behavior that results in my getting smacked in the mouth should be avoided.
Eventually, it came to be that force was no longer necessary, because the threat of getting smacked was enough. I'd get "The Look," that halting stare that my mother would level at me whenever I drew dangerously close to trying her patience.
This one's for you, mom.