
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


Let’s get something straight.
If you are uncomfortable kissing your son, that discomfort did not come from biology. It came from culture. And culture is wrong.
This is not about turning boys soft.. This is not about turning fathers into therapists. This is not about politics, ideology, or whatever team you think you’re on this week.
This is about raising boys who do not grow into brittle men. Strong men can give affection. Fragile cultures pretend they can’t.
Read full post here
We meet Tony Soprano joyfully playing with a family of ducks, quite a robust, balding, middle aged man in his trademark bathrobe and boxers, submerged in his own backyard pool, feeding them like somone briefly convinced he has achieved domestic harmony.
His own family observes, perplexed. Then the ducks leave. And Tony has a panic attack. Later, in therapy with Dr. Jennifer Melfi he admits he’s terrified of losing his family. The ducks were never just ducks.
It is incumbent upon us, as fathers, to celebrate the arrival of a newborn properly. with intent, noise, and at least a vague sense that something ancient has been satisfied. The gods must be notified.
Chief among them are Odin and Thor, custodians of wisdom, violence, strength, storms, and extremely poor anger management. They demand brute strength, fire, smoke and preferably a meat-based sacrifice. Lightning ⚡ is often a clue that you have either succeeded or failed spectacularly.
What follows is a practical guide for the modern man attempting an ancient rite, possibly in a suburban environment, likely while sleep-deprived.
Read full post here
In the days following the arrival of my newest family member and future hunting partner, my son Viktor, I was reminded of something both obvious and strangely under-appreciated: experience matters enormously when raising a child.
This should surprise no one. And yet, every first-time parent behaves as though the universe has unveiled a never-before-seen creature, operating by occult rules, requiring fresh panic for every noise.
What experience gives you is confidence. The kind that lives in your hands. The kind your spouse feels without you saying a word, simply by watching you move without hesitation.
Read full post here
Stealing Bread for Starving Children
When asked, almost any father will confirm they would rather steal bread than allow his children to starve. and who can blame them?
And if compared to Breaking Bad’s fundamental stated premise: What if Mr. Chips turned into Scarface - and the method was producing high quality Crystal Meth?
Full post here
We now know that modern digital platforms are engineered systems designed to capture attention through dopaminergic feedback loops, optimized relentlessly to keep us engaged, scrolling, and mildly dissatisfied.
I highly recommend the documentary The Social Dilemma, which was my first eye-opening gut punch on just how effective these systems are at watching us, learning us, and gently herding us into endless loops with no natural stopping point. (Did you know that Instagram actually follows your eye-movements to better measure how you like each portion of the endless scroll? yes, it’s creepy.)
Full post here
When you ask people what makes a good father, opinions are like a******s: everyone has one.
Patient. Kind. Present. Strong. Helpful. Wealthy. Smart.
They’re not wrong. But they are incomplete. Like listing tools without asking what they are used for. easy to say.
A man can be patient. Patiently apathetic, not caring one bit what actually happens to his son. Perhaps he’s too self-involved. Too worried about his own work, his own problems.
Full post here.
It’s five o’clock on a Friday. Supermarket is full. People buying dinner. Beer. Nachos. With dip. Maybe some avocados and lime for that nice guac.
Blonde hair bounces past me. A boy, about six. Short legs, explosive energy, a chocolate smear on the front of his shirt. It’s a sunny day. Probably the remains of a previous chocolate ice cream. First impression: a cute kid.
He’s clutching a box of Ben & Jerry’s - the raw cookie dough one, that people love with a warlike passion.
Full post here
If you wish to ruin your son, begin by making him comfortable. Smoothen out his days, lessen his frustrations. Explain away his disappointments before they have time to settle. This will reduce conflict and preserve harmony.
Protect him from discomfort. Step in early, and often. When he fails, clarify that it wasn’t really his fault. It was the world’s. And when he struggles, remove the struggle. This will feel like love.
Teach him that effort is admirable, even when it produces nothing. Results are optional. After all, he’s special. This will feel like you’re teaching him confidence.
And whatever you do, never let any responsibility rest on his shoulders. He might think it’s uncomfortable. He might drop it. This might make him unhappy. Better you hold on to it for him.
Eventually, he will meet the world. It will not negotiate. It will not be especially interested in his feelings. This might come as a shock to him. It might even ruin his life.
There is, of course, another approach. It is less soothing, a bit more inconvenient. It involves a lot of work, responsibility and discomfort. It is not always fun, nor is it easy.
It does, however, tend to work.
Friend of mine told me about his son the other day. He’s four and doing Jiu Jitsu. Pretty cool, exercise, coordination, learning how to move around other kids without hurting them. Maybe also hurting them. A little. All in good fun.
Anyway. He’s four, which means he’d rather be climbing the wall and exploring the ceiling than listen to the instructor.
So before the class my friend tells him: “I’ve bought you this candy. If you behave, listen to the instructor and make me proud, you’ll get it afterwards”.
And the kid did it. And got his reward, a pat on his head, a “good job”. And quite a bit of a father’s pride.
That little phrase, “make me proud”, matters. It’s got weight. It’s a weapon and a gift, depending on how it’s use
From the publisher's feed