What really defines a father? Almost all species have parents, yet very few animals show any real care for the males. In fact, humans invest significantly in child-rearing compared to other species, and even among our closest primate relatives, the differences are stark.
The origins of this aspect of human identity remain elusive. We might never pinpoint when the first man identified as a father. For a significant part of human history, the concept of reproduction didn’t exist in a way that supported our current understanding of “biological paternity.” It wasn’t until the 1980s, with advances in genetic testing, that we could establish paternity with complete certainty.
There’s a consistent narrative throughout the history of fatherhood. For millennia, men have expressed their views on fatherhood, often framing it around their claims to power and authority. Our unique talent for storytelling illustrates how fathers hold significance in families and society.
The parallels in these narratives are striking. Historical records often depict paternalism as a divine mission, rooted in early legal codes and religious texts—suggesting a sense of knowing what’s best for others.
This leads to a different challenge. Throughout history, men have often framed paternity with the sentiment that “only God can provide,” leaving them somewhat unfulfilled. Perhaps this need to elevate oneself above women arises from the clear visibility of their role in life creation and maintenance.
Many men have encountered crises regarding masculinity and paternal responsibility, particularly during times of upheaval. These men often attempt to reaffirm their father’s influence by reshaping the old promises of fatherhood—this cycle feels like an ancient tale that persists today.
Bob Dylan embodies the struggles of countless fathers. As a youth, he distanced himself from his father, Abe Zimmerman. In his 1964 song “The Times They Are A-Changin’,” he urged his parents not to obstruct him. Yet, despite writing a song that critiqued male authority, Dylan increasingly sought the stability of a traditional family life.
By the time he had five (later six) children, he craved to embody a more conventional “man.” His song “Forever Young” from 1973, while sounding like a rallying cry, is, at its core, a heartfelt prayer.
Every father seems to share a common desire, but perhaps that goal is ultimately unattainable. In the parent-child dynamic, especially regarding fatherhood, the concept of “eternity” is unrealistic. Fatherhood implies a commitment to protection and provision, yet we must reconcile this with the paradox of infinite love against our finite capabilities. Our aspirations for our children can be boundless, but the means to fulfill them are often limited.
Reflecting on this central theme of fatherhood has influenced me in two significant ways. First, it allows me to view my own father as a flawed human being, helping me to forgive him for shortcomings and to let go of unrealistic expectations. Second, it pushes me to embrace my own role as a father with a more genuine, humane perspective. I acknowledge my profound love for my son, while also recognizing the real constraints on what I can achieve for him.
There’s an important takeaway here. As we celebrate Father’s Day this year, perhaps we should focus on the complexities of fatherhood rather than idealizing it. The struggles in protection and provision arise not out of personal failings but from the human condition itself.
If we can shift our narratives around fatherhood away from unrealistic expectations inherited from previous generations, we may find that forgiving ourselves—and each other—becomes easier. By accepting our limitations as men, fathers, and sons, we can celebrate the honest challenges and true triumphs that come with caring for loved ones.
This essay draws inspiration from Augustine Sedgwick’s “Paternalism: A History of Love and Power.” Copyright©2025 by Augustine Sedgewick, published by Scribner, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
