Contribution
I want to start by asking all of us to think of a positive male role model from our youth. If you are lucky, you now have a face in your mind and a smile in your heart. If you do not, we as a society owe you our apologies and a promise to do better for those who will come next.
I have been very lucky in the positive male role models I have had throughout my life. My dad was the first; he ran his own electrical business in Stirling. Back then, he was not—and he still is not—particularly good at talking about emotional connection. He taught mainly by example: work hard, treat people properly and earn their trust. I helped out in his shop from a young age, alongside characters such as Colin, Keith, Andy and Bill. I doubt any of them ever went to work thinking that they were going to be positive male role models, but I was watching.
Of course, when we talk about positive male role models, there is one relationship at the heart of this debate: fathers and their children. When my wife and I brought our daughter home from the hospital, we unclipped the car seat and carried it into the house. We sat on the couch, with the car seat on the carpet in front of us, and we stared at this tiny baby. I looked at my wife and said, “What the hell do we do now?” We both burst out laughing—well, I think it was laughter; it may have been hyperventilating. But we worked it out, as parents do.
I can look back now and admit that I was not as supportive in those first weeks as Anne would have wanted. I felt huge pressure to get back to work—I was self-employed at the time—so when I read that financial pressure is the biggest barrier that fathers identify to taking more leave, I recognise something of my own experience.
When our children were young, I presented a radio show from Monday to Friday, and Anne worked as a radio journalist on Saturday and Sunday. That is how we kept two careers going while raising a family and paying the bills. For my parents’ generation, many families could be supported by one salary. For my generation, that could perhaps be managed at a stretch. For my children’s generation, two salaries are not a choice but a necessity. If we are content with this economic model, we have to make it easier for fathers to take their share of the parenting responsibility. That means looking seriously at paternity leave, including the financial barriers to taking it and the position of self-employed fathers.
This is not simply about fathers. If we want mothers and fathers to have equal opportunities in the workplace, we need to make it possible for them to take a more equal share at home. The two go together. The connection between fathers taking on more care and us tackling the motherhood penalty is important.
I would go further: we need to look at the wider economics of family life, and that means housing. Building more council houses and reducing the cost of putting a roof over a family’s head is a key family policy. The less pressure there is on the family budget, the more choices parents have about work, childcare and that most precious commodity: their time.
There is something else we should say in this debate to those thinking about not just positive role models but doing something a little more formal, such as volunteering with a charity of a group: it is hugely rewarding. We all want a sense of belonging, and to feel that we are getting something from and giving something to our families and communities. There is something profoundly rewarding about watching a child develop, find their confidence, form their own views and gradually become the next generation. Perhaps we should get better at asking men to step forward, and make it easier for them to do so.
I hope my children would say that I have been a present, approachable and loving dad—I have not asked them today, just in case—although I do know my place in the family hierarchy. When my daughter was about four, she asked me who my favourite child was—her or her younger brother. I said, “I love you both equally. That is like me asking who your favourite parent is.” She went very quiet, and I asked what was wrong. She said, “I can’t tell you, Dad. I don’t want to make you sad.”
If I could give my 30-year-old self, starting out as a father, one piece of advice about fatherhood, it would be this. Do your best. Accept that you are human—I am going to start crying here—and that you will get things wrong. Try again, and try to do better. That approach in itself is a valuable lesson to show all children.