Contribution
I fully agree, and I am setting out the evidence base for that.
In 2018, Tracy et al found that higher levels of father involvement in children aged nine to 10 were associated with lower self-reported “violent perpetration” by both boys and girls when they reach 18 to 20. In 2010, Keung and Rees found that the frequency with which young people talked to their father about the things that mattered to them was positively associated with higher wellbeing and self-esteem. On the other hand, the Centre for Social Justice has warned:
“The disappearance of male role models is creating a generation of unhappy young boys.”
Its report “Lost Boys” found that fatherlessness and a lack of mentorship is deeply harming young men’s mental health, education and life paths.
Those are all things that I know from my own personal experience. We have this culture in politics—particularly those of us in the Labour party—of everyone needing a backstory to prove how working class they are, but while there are probably not many Members in this place whose family struggled financially like mine did, I want to be honest about how absolutely privileged I am. I grew up in a stable, loving home with a mum and dad who made raising us children their world.
Early memories of my dad include being taken on hikes through the countryside, and being dragged around old cathedrals and art galleries, if they were free—he was from Yorkshire—and taught to appreciate history and culture. We did not have a car in my early childhood, but mum and dad insisted I was a member of the “strong legs brigade” as I learned to walk everywhere. Rain was no problem; we had cagoules. Most of my clothes were hand-me-downs, but dad insisted on buying me Clarks shoes because he thought they were better for my growing feet, even though I noticed that his own shoes were often falling apart—he always gave us the best. As a lay church leader, dad would take me to visit older people and do acts of service for them. At Christmas we would spend our pocket money on gifts from B&M Bargains for kids less fortunate than us and drop them off on their doorsteps on Christmas eve.
Dad taught me to think of others. Sometimes that was explicit. We had a programme encouraged by our church, which we called family home evening, where one night a week was set aside for family time. It would include some sort of instruction—I remember being taught words like “integrity” and “kindness”—some fun game or activity, and always a home-made dessert.
As a junior civil servant in the auditing department, dad used to travel away from home, and when others were at the bar, he would always phone home to talk to us all. Wherever he went, he would get us a postcard with information about the place, expressions of love and some bad attempt at humour. I have kept them in a folder to this day. Another thing my dad taught me, and still teaches me today, is that the kindest thing I can do for my children is to love their mother. He taught me respect for women and womanhood.
Active fatherhood is not only good for children and youth; it is good for dads too. The Fatherhood Institute found that more active and involved fathers report lower levels of depression and higher relationship satisfaction than less involved fathers. That is certainly true for me; I am never happier than when spending time with Siobhain and the kids at home. Whenever I have faced disappointments or setbacks in my career, financial setbacks or times of stress and anxiety, and whenever I have questioned my worth, I have always known that I can walk through my front door and find my biggest fan club to welcome me back. They put my life in perspective.
I think my dad jokes are rubbing off on them, too. The other day, my 16-year-old daughter Jesse said to me, “Dad, you know you shouldn’t brush your teeth with your right hand?” I said, “No? Why’s that?” She said, “You’re supposed to use a toothbrush.”
But we have to be honest and recognise, too, that fatherhood is tough. The men’s health report commissioned by the former Health Secretary, my right hon. Friend the Member for Ilford North (Wes Streeting), notes that
“the transition to fatherhood can be a stressful and isolating experience. Men may turn towards unhealthy coping mechanisms, such as alcohol and drugs, or neglect their own health and wellbeing by prioritising supporting their family…
Estimates suggest 5 to 15% of fathers experience anxiety during the perinatal period and 5 to 10% of fathers experience depression. The mental health of fathers during this period is not routinely assessed, which can result in fathers missing out on opportunities for diagnosis, support and interventions. Fathers frequently report feeling ignored or considered unimportant by healthcare professionals during the perinatal period. Additionally, fathers often question the legitimacy of their own mental health challenges and entitlement to support, emphasising their partner’s needs over their own.”
That brings me to my final point: good public policy can be pivotal in making fatherhood a positive experience for dads and children, while bad policy or the absence of support can limit fathers’ potential positive impacts. I will quickly highlight two ways in which I think that matters. I will not go into great detail, because I imagine that other people will do so in their speeches.