The Fallacy of the Modern, Involved Father
Per every metric Iāve come across, men who live with their children today are more involved than the fathers of fifty years ago. Co-residential dads have tripled the amount of time they spend with their kids since 1965.1 Thirty-two percent of fathers in the most recent census reported being a regular source of care for their children, which is up from 26 percent a decade before.2 The National At-Home Dad Network estimates that there are 1.4 million stay-at-home fathers in the U.S., and that this is twice the number there were ten years ago.3 Roughly the same percentage of fathers as mothers report that parenting is extremely important to their identity.4 Mothers spent four times as many hours on child care as fathers in 1965, and only twice as many hours in 2010.5 Cross-nationally, between 1965 and 2003, menās portion of unpaid family work went from under 20 percent to almost 35 percent,6 where of course it has remained ever since.7
Historians have documented significant changes in fatherhood in the last five hundred years. In colonial times (~1600ā1800) work took place on family farms, and men were responsible for their childrenās education and moral upbringing. During industrialization (~1800ā1950), waged work moved outside the home, bifurcating the lives of Western men and women into separate spheres, the public and the private. Women were tasked with unpaid domestic duty even when they also brought in wages with home-based or other often marginalized efforts. Men went to work in factories and stores. Fathers became distant and uninvolved. Finally, with urbanization in the last half-century-plus, there was an increase in maternal employment and earnings, creating the conditions that spawned the modern, involved father.8 He takes his kids to school. He knows where they keep their socks. Heās responsive to nightmares and to vomit. He does not refer to being alone with his children as babysitting. He attends parent-teacher conferences. He makes dinner some of the time.
The arc of the moral universe is long, and it has bent toward justice, and now women have it better than their mothers and than theirs. You donāt have to be a history major to have absorbed this merciful fact. It wasnāt so long ago that married women had no legal rights at all because they were their husbandās property.9 (Single women belonged to their fathers: The honorifics āMissā and āMrs.ā serve to clarify whether a woman is beholden to a father or a spouse.)10 Until the passage of the Civil Rights Act in 1964, it was legal for certain classes of employers to fire or refuse to employ a married woman because she already had a jobāas the physical and emotional laborer of her family.11 Only in 1980 did the U.S. Census officially stop calling every husband āthe head of household.ā12 I came of age in a time of equal opportunities in education and entry-level employment for young women, and I assumed this trajectory to have a boundless run. In podcasts, Iād hear women like Sheila Nevins, the longtime president of documentary films at HBO, born in 1939, explaining the difficulty of beginning a career in theater after finishing her MFA at the Yale School of Drama: ā[My husband] wanted me home evenings. And he wanted me home weekends. So like theater is evenings and weekends so that nixed any chance of theater.ā (This was her first husband, whom she ālong ago divorced.ā13) But that was marriage in the 1960s. A man could assert his desires and expect his wife to cede to them, no matter the cost to her personhood. It sounded just so very long ago.
Or did it? When George and I moved into our first one-bedroom walk-up a few years before we got married, he soon after volunteered that he would do the vacuuming and the dusting. He liked those things, he told me, and heād do them every week. What I didnāt say in response, because I was a woman and he was a man, was that being left to clean the bathroom and the kitchen did not float my boat. He could have dusting, which Iād never bothered with anyway, but I wanted vacuuming. If I was going to scrub the bathtub, he needed to do the kitchen floor. I thought to say these things, but time froze, and instead, I didnāt speak because wasnāt I lucky that he wanted to do anything at all. We silently agreed upon the last part. This was in the year 2005.
Itās easier to feel grateful for all that has changed than to acknowledge all that has yet to. Gratitude is the precursor to less conflict rather than more. For women raising children with the modern, involved father, there is some pressureāself-imposed and otherwiseāto land on the side of appreciation, of sugar and spice and everything nice. (āWhen a dad comes, we clap,ā reports Jay Miranda, a mother and blogger from Los Angeles, describing her weekly mommy-and-me class.14)
How lucky to share egalitarian ideals about marriage, even if they donāt always manifest in behavior. After all, those ideals are still not universal. Molly, twenty-seven, a foster care worker and mother to a toddler in Tennessee, tells me, āItās unusual to see equal partnership around here. Even my friends without kids yet will say, āIām working late, so I have to make sure I have dinner prepared for my husband.ā I would die if my husband ever threw a fit because I was working late and he had to feed himself. So when I say Iām grateful to be married to him, I mean it, even though Iām really spent from doing most all the work for our son.ā
Shannon, forty-two, an Oklahoma City mother who works as a court liaison, explains to me, āWhere I live, itās still very backwards and old-school. My husband thinks he is supposed to bring home a check and do nothing else. He makes no bones about it. Itās not that bad. He doesnāt beat me. He doesnāt drink excessively. Iāve learned how to manage things to where I can keep everything done. Thereās no point in fighting about it now, itās not going to change.ā Though she adds, āIn all honesty, life would be easier if I were single. I wouldnāt be expecting anyone to help me, and I wouldnāt be upset if they didnāt.ā Oklahoma, itās worth noting, is among the U.S. states with the highest divorce rates.15
Given that there is always a nameless, faceless partner in the background whose laziness or inattentiveness is worse than your husbandās, women who appreciate their lives and their relationships feel reluctant to acknowledge their displeasure. Sociology explains this with relative-deprivation theory: Only when one feels more deprived than other members of her reference group will she feel entitled to adamant protest. Michelle, forty-four, a Portland, Oregon, marketer and mother of a nine-year-old, says, āI donāt know how equitable we are. But I do feel really lucky when I hear about other peopleās husbands. I have so many friends whose husbands have never put their child to bed because itās her job, because sheās the mom.ā
Laura, thirty-eight, a New York City business owner and mother of a four-year-old, tells me she feels like a single parent but agrees with her husband that things could be a lot worse. Indeed, her partnerās standard response whenever she tries to address their imbalance is āI do a lot more than other men,ā a sentence much easier to utter than āYes, our arrangements are unfair to you, but that is the lot of women, so suck it up.ā
Erica, thirty-eight, a project manager in Portland, Oregon, and the mother of two kids under seven, expresses her mixed feelings like this: āHeās great with the kids when heās here, and from friends I talk to, my husband does a lot more.ā She interrupts her thought to make sure Iāll be changing her name (I am changing all parentsā names). Theyāve just started couples therapy, and she feels guilty talking about this. āHeās on his phone or computer while Iām running around like a crazy person getting the kidsā stuff, doing the laundry. He has his coffee in the morning, reading his phone, while Iām packing lunches, getting our daughterās clothes out, helping our son with his homework. He just sits there. He doesnāt do it on purpose. He has no awareness of whatās happening around him. I ask him about it, and he gets defensive. Itās the same in the evening. He helps with dinner, but then Iām off to doing toothbrushing and bedtime, and heāll be sitting there on his phone.ā
Why do men act this way? Why do women tolerate it?
āConventions embodying male dominance have changed much less in āthe personalā than in the job world,ā New York University sociologist Paula England, author of The Gender Revolution, Uneven and Stalled, tells me from behind the desk in her wide-windowed office overlooking Greenwich Village. āIf you get down to it, we talk about equality, but the part people grasped on to was women changing. Women can have careers, be in the military, become clergy. But the fact is that all of that doesnāt work if household stuff doesnāt shift. And some things are more impervious to change than others. The implicit assumption that change is continuous is probably unrealistic.ā
Indeed, many of the women I spoke withāthe partners of the modern, involved fathersāremain in what journalist Jill Filipovic, in her book The H-Spot: The Feminist Pursuit of Happiness, refers to as āa strange limbo where menās actions havenāt totally caught up to womenās expectations.ā16 Or, as Berkeley psychologists and pioneering family researchers Carolyn and Philip Cowan have put it, the ideology of the new egalitarian couple is way ahead of its time.17 Monique, thirty-two, the mother of a toddler in Queens, New York, explains how her husband sees the problem: āHe notices the unfairness, but he just accepts it as something we have a disagreement about. I think he feels like thereās nothing he can do. In fact, heās told me this before. Thereās nothing he can do, so it would be helpful if I wasnāt so bothered by it.ā
Iāll take the time to state hereāand then, because it is obvious, I will not repeat it again in the course of this bookāthat the vast majority of modern, involved fathers are well-intentioned, reasonable human beings. Today fewer men are in touch with their childr...