My guess is that so many young captains now have never had a real thrashing in a storm. Try spending a couple of hours in a line of CBs--thinking the wings can't possibly stay on, and it gives one a healthy respect for thunder-bumps.
I wrote something about rational v irrational fear a couple of years ago, in which I described one particular flight. (Viscount to Barcelona.) The horizon bar frequently disappeared off the scene and the controls were occasionally hard against the stops in all possible directions. We were thrown out of the tops, and dropped below MSA over the mountains. We were 45 mins on one twenty min leg...not that we could hear the beacons anyway. (No, we didn't have radar for some time)
Having cleared the CBs, a bolt then blew a 4" hole through the wing. It went round the fuel bags? and out the other side--dead in line. Odd that.
That was actually quite funny. My captain had just struck his Zippo for the first fag of the night, the exact second that the biggest bang I have ever heard happened. His face, illuminated by the shaking flame, was priceless.
Bad old days the 60s, but a lot of lessons learnt.