This blog comes with a new challenge. I have a very small puppy on my lap. Animals now outnumber humans in this house!
I watched Mumsnet last week giving David Cameron a hard time. It was all over the news. I suddenly saw something I had not seen so clearly before. Mothers, through their massive national networking on Mumsnet and Netmums, have become powerful. So powerful they are a force that the political parties are truly engaging with as they enter a general election. It is magnificent to behold - what a turnaround in 100 years!
And then it was clear to me: fathers, in contrast, are weak.
I don’t buy into the popular belief in the uselessness of individual men in the home, a flourishing topic of debate in both national and local networks of mothers, and something that some men proclaim as a virtue (and the media give them a megaphone each time they do). If you take account of the burden of being a main earner in uncertain employment, and the numerous cultural and economic pressures on both mothers and fathers to live in different domains, I think what comes out is the strength of many fathers who step up despite the pressures and the lack of social support. (What comes through also is the strength of the mothers who share their territory with them.) I think a lot of the finger pointing arises because the system puts heavy burdens on mothers in the domestic domain and they are often angry and unhappy. Pointing the finger at fathers is easy because there is a readily available narrative to explain things - men grunt and hunt like cavemen (why do we always think so little of cavemen?), they cannot multi-task, they lack the ‘maternal instinct’, and so on.
No, what I am talking about is an overwhelming collective weakness. In the public debate about parenting and about family and children services, particularly relating to young children, fathers are extraordinarily invisible.
Fathers just don’t talk to each other; usually the only person whom a father confides in is the mother of his children. Whilst the social networks for mothers are bursting at the seams, every attempt at a social network for fathers has resulted in an embarrassing absence of any reaction at all. Men gathering together in order to talk about parenting is regarded as downright weird. (Men are in fact just as adept at talking to each other when the opportunity is socially normative - e.g. workplace discussions about parenting - but there are almost no such opportunities.)
Men’s public silence as fathers is reinforced by women who manage the media debate about parenting and equality issues. I loved the debate recently about the young men in universities setting up men’s groups. Jenni Murray’s article in The Daily Mail was a tour de force. But see what happened: some men made a stand, and the female editors of the women’s pages of the newspapers commissioned women to write about these men. Why not actually talk to the men and let them have their say?
I am a man who has stepped up to the mark in public on these issues. In theory this is what women have been waiting for and indeed, some women have embraced this initiative. But that is not the dominant response, sad to say. Men who do step up to this mark also meet hostility. Some years ago a Minister (a woman) used to go round privately describing me as a “wolf in sheep’s clothing” - a man asserting himself in this domain and professing to be in favour of gender equality just must have a hidden, self-centred agenda. More common, though, is condescension - women who realise that men stepping up is what is needed in theory, but who are unwilling really to share the family/equality agenda with them.
Does it matter if men are silent and let women lead on these issues? I think yes.
- Improvements in public services for families and children need fathers to join the lobby. Yes, mothers are now powerful, but in many cases not powerful enough. Take continued investment in adequate maternity services. I was saddened when the Royal College of Midwives recently only asked mothers about their opinion of maternity services - if they had asked fathers too, they would have marshaled more strength.
- The division of mothers and fathers into different roles by cultural, social and economic factors makes many parents miserable. Only 20% of couples say their relationship gets better after a baby. Two thirds say it gets worse. Couples with babies are much more likely to split up than those without. The key reason is division of roles. In an EHRC survey this year, 34% of mothers and 23% of fathers said the mother should be in charge of caring. But 86% of mothers and 69% of fathers say the mother is actually in charge. That is a very big gap between aspiration and reality.
- Fathers say they want to be more available to their children than their fathers were to them. They are. But not enough - too many children still say they feel their father is too distant.
- When fathers separate from the mother of their children, they often become disconnected from their only channel of access to the world of their children - the mother. This is a situation of absolute misery and fear. Not surprisingly, in this position of extreme weakness with such enormous cost, men do join together, just like women have done since the beginning of the last century.
- A serious myth has emerged and is informing a series of policies - that things can be fixed for women without the involvement of men. Most spectacular was the extension of maternity leave to a year with only two weeks for fathers - this immediately reversed progress in tackling the pay gap, as women were made an even more risky employment prospect compared to men. Similarly, we have among the lowest breastfeeding rates in Europe, and the evidence shows that fathers are the main influence on mothers; but our breastfeeding strategies don’t want to go there. An articulate fathers’ lobby working closely with women would result in more balanced approaches with better outcomes for everyone, including for women.
- The absence of a strong fathers’ lobby gives an easy ride to those men who shirk domestic responsibilities and those women who control the domestic domain and exclude men from it.
The trouble with all of this is that the idea of women being strong and men being weak goes right against the doctrine of gender equality that is predicated on the opposite. Men are terrified of appearing weak and women do not like weak men: opting for silent isolation in the garden shed is a good protection for men. When weak men organise themselves in protest, they are reviled - they are seen as powerful individuals wanting to reimpose patriarchy.
Nor can we handle the idea of the complexities of role - that one can be powerful and weak at the same time. A rich man can be bankrupt when it comes to the relationship he has with his children. A man who is violent in the home is usually simultaneously disempowered. We panic when these ideas are put forward because we think it means excusing the abuse.
So, along with Jenni Murray, I celebrated when I heard the news of young men in universities talking to each other. (See Mancollective at Oxford University.) Is this a tip of an iceberg of men admitting their vulnerabilities to each other? And we see them being embraced by young women who are outraged at shortcomings in our efforts to address equality, particularly how we have divided parental leave (see Jennie Agg in the Guardian).
Can we dare to hope that this social networking generation will cast aside our hang-ups about male weakness? Will this generation have the strength to withstand the pressures that parenthood puts on mothers and fathers to live different lives? Will we finally get a generation of children who don’t complain about the lack of intimacy with their fathers?
I am now off to find the men starting these groups to talk to them.
Fatherhood
Fatherhood, gender equality
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