Fatherhood, Rewritten

There was a time when fathers in popular culture existed in fragments.

He was the silhouette leaving for work before sunrise, briefcase in hand. The deep voice heard from the next room asking if homework was finished. The stern disciplinarian whose approval was rationed more carefully than pocket money. If mothers were cast as warm embraces, fathers were often written as distant figures — providers first, parents second.

Generations grew up on versions of the same archetype. In literature, cinema and television, the father was frequently emotionally unavailable, his love measured in school fees paid, roofs repaired and family holidays reluctantly funded. He may not have said, “I love you”, but he showed it by ensuring the electricity bill was paid on time. Vulnerability belonged to mothers. Authority belonged to fathers.

That image, however, is quietly disappearing, if not completely.

In the urban space, the modern father is just as likely to be found learning how to braid his daughter’s hair from YouTube, carrying a baby in a front sling through an airport, crying at a school graduation, or attending a parent-teacher meeting with a calendar full of reminders. Increasingly, fatherhood is no longer defined by absence but by presence.

The shift has been gradual rather than revolutionary. It has unfolded alongside changing ideas about masculinity, women’s participation in the workforce, evolving family structures, LGBTQIA+ parenting rights and a growing understanding that children do not simply need financial security — they need emotional security too.

The father who once stood quietly in the background of family photographs is increasingly stepping into the frame — not as a reluctant babysitter or an occasional helper, but as an equal parent.

More than a breadwinner

The changing expectations placed on fathers are no longer just cultural observations — they are backed by research.

Patrick Ishizuka, an assistant professor of sociology at Washington University, analysed data from the Future of Families and Child Wellbeing Study for research published in Social Science Research in 2025. His findings suggest that modern fathers increasingly measure themselves against two equally demanding standards: being able to provide financially while also being actively involved in raising their children.

Playing with children, talking to them, showing affection and participating in everyday caregiving all contributed to how positively fathers viewed themselves as parents.

As Ishizuka put it, fathers are no longer moving from one model of parenting to another. Instead, they are trying to live up to both. The traditional expectation of being a provider has not disappeared — it now exists alongside the expectation of being emotionally present.

That dual identity marks one of the biggest shifts in modern fatherhood. Paying the bills is still part of the job. So is remembering sports day, reading bedtime stories, knowing your child’s favourite dinosaur, and being the parent they instinctively reach for when they’ve had a bad day.

Today’s dads are expected to succeed in two worlds that often compete with one another. Workplaces still reward long hours, uninterrupted availability and career ambition. At home, society increasingly celebrates fathers who are present for school concerts, football matches, sleepless nights and everyday moments in between.

Research suggests that many fathers experience pride when they participate in caregiving, but they also experience guilt when work prevents them from doing so. The challenge, experts argue, is not simply asking men to become more involved parents, but creating workplaces and policies that make that involvement possible.

Because if fatherhood has evolved, the systems surrounding fatherhood must evolve too.

The psychology of modern fatherhood

If sociology explains what has changed, psychology helps explain why it matters.

Professor Darby Saxbe, a psychologist at the University of Southern California and author of Dad Brain: The New Science of Fatherhood and How It Shapes Men’s Lives, argues that fatherhood has undergone one of the most dramatic social transformations of the past half-century.

Some estimates suggest fathers today spend nearly four times as much time caring for their children as they did 50 years ago. Around 85 per cent of fathers now describe parenthood as one of the most important parts of their identity, illustrating how caregiving has become central to modern masculinity rather than peripheral to it.

Yet Saxbe also cautions that today’s fathers are parenting under very different circumstances from previous generations. The old proverb that “it takes a village to raise a child” has become a lesser reality. Grandparents often live in different cities, neighbours know each other less well, and extended families no longer provide the daily support they once did.

In many ways, fathers have stepped further into childcare because there are simply fewer people to share the responsibility.

The emotional father

The evolution of fatherhood isn’t simply about spending more time with children — it’s about spending that time differently.

For decades, masculinity rewarded emotional restraint. Fathers were expected to be dependable rather than expressive, stoic rather than vulnerable, strict rather than warm. Love was demonstrated through sacrifice or reprimanding in terms of occasional violence and loud warnings instead of genuine conversation.

Developmental psychologists have increasingly challenged that idea.

Clinical psychologist Dr John Gottman, whose research has transformed modern parenting science, has consistently found that children thrive when fathers are emotionally responsive. Fathers who talk openly about feelings, encourage emotional expression and remain consistently involved help children develop stronger emotional regulation, greater confidence and healthier relationships later in life.

The rise of single fathers

For decades, single parenthood was almost synonymous with single motherhood. Fathers were often portrayed as visitors rather than primary caregivers. That assumption has steadily changed.

Across many countries, the number of single-father households has risen over the past few decades, driven by divorce, widowhood, adoption, changing custody arrangements and personal choice. In India, while single fathers remain statistically fewer than single mothers, they have become increasingly visible, whether raising children after bereavement, through adoption or shared custody.

One of the most visible examples is filmmaker and television personality Karan Johar, who became a single father to twins Yash Johar and Roohi Johar through surrogacy in 2017. Speaking repeatedly on Koffee with Karan and in interviews while promoting his memoir The Big Thoughts of Little Luv, Johar has described parenthood as the most transformative experience of his life. “My children are my world,” he has often said, explaining that every professional decision is now filtered through one question: Will this take me away from them for too long?

Gay fathers and the expanding idea of family

Perhaps no group has challenged traditional ideas of fatherhood more visibly than gay fathers.

Whether through adoption, foster care or surrogacy, same-sex couples have broadened public understanding of what families can look like. In doing so, they have shifted the conversation away from biology and towards caregiving, reminding the world that what children need most is love, stability and consistency.

Singer Elton John and filmmaker David Furnish, who are raising sons Zachary and Elijah, have consistently kept their children away from excessive public attention. Yet Elton has often spoken about how fatherhood completely reordered his priorities. “Our sons are our primary concern. They’re the things that come first and foremost,” he said, explaining that every decision now begins with their well-being.

Actor Neil Patrick Harris and chef David Burtka, parents to twins Harper Grace and Gideon Scott, have similarly helped normalise same-sex parenting. Through interviews and social media, they rarely frame themselves as exceptional fathers, instead sharing the wonderfully ordinary realities of raising children, from school concerts and Halloween costumes to bedtime routines and family holidays.

The American Psychological Association, along with decades of longitudinal research, has consistently found that children raised by same-sex parents fare just as well as those raised by heterosexual parents on measures of emotional well-being, academic achievement, cognitive development and social adjustment. The quality of parenting, not the gender or sexuality of the parents, is what matters most.

In India, however, the conversation is still finding its voice. Despite the growing visibility of LGBTQIA+ individuals in public life, openly gay fatherhood remains rare in the public eye. Following the Supreme Court’s 2023 verdict declining to legalise same-sex marriage, queer couples continue to face legal barriers to joint adoption and many forms of parenthood. As a result, there are few visible examples of openly gay fathers raising children in India today.

While India may not yet have many publicly visible gay fathers, conversations around chosen families, surrogacy, adoption and queer parenting are becoming increasingly prominent. Representation remains limited, but the definition of family continues to expand.

The question has quietly shifted from ‘who are the parents?’ to ‘how are they parenting?’

The changing face of masculinity

The evolution of fatherhood cannot be separated from the evolution of masculinity itself.

For generations, men were taught that strength meant silence. Today’s fathers increasingly see vulnerability as part of parenting.

Jason Momoa, while promoting the Netflix film Sweet Girl, in which he plays a father protecting his daughter, said: “When I became a father, it changed my life because it really made me learn to take care of myself. Prior to that, I didn’t give too much thought to that. Everything’s to live for after you have babies. I’ve never learned more in my life by having children. I really don’t know what I was doing beforehand. By having children, I felt like my life was then born from that moment on.”

Hollywood actor Ryan Reynolds, who has four children with Blake Lively — often wraps fatherhood in humour. Yet beneath the jokes lies a recurring theme of presence. “Being a father is the single greatest feeling on earth,” he has said, while also noting in interviews that parenting has made him “super present” in ways he never expected.

Former footballer David Beckham, father to Brooklyn, Romeo, Cruz and Harper, has consistently emphasised time over material gifts. “Being present with your child — that’s the greatest gift that you can give any child, your attention,” he said while reflecting on balancing football with family life.

For Lionel Messi, father to Thiago, Mateo and Ciro, children transformed not just his priorities but his temperament. Speaking to Marca and Argentine television, Messi admitted becoming a father made him calmer. “My children changed my life completely,” he said. “Now everything revolves around them.”

After becoming father to five kids, Christiano Ronaldo said: “Fatherhood has taught me things of love that I never knew existed. It has softened me up and given me a new perspective on what really matters in life. Seeing my family grow is, honestly, the greatest privilege I have had. I enjoy every second.”

Even someone as famously stoic as MS Dhoni admitted that fatherhood softened him. Speaking about daughter Ziva, he confessed, “I don’t know whether it has changed me as a cricketer. As a person, yes, of course,” later adding that it was the first time in his life he found himself missing someone enough to want to FaceTime just to see what she was doing.

Virat Kohli, father to Vamika and Akaay, has perhaps been among India’s most vocal advocates for emotionally present fatherhood. Kohli has said that becoming a father completely altered his priorities. “The way I look at things has changed.” He has also spoken openly about reducing unnecessary travel and taking extended breaks from cricket to spend time with his family — choices that, a decade ago, may have been interpreted as lacking commitment to sport.

The comments are striking because they would have been almost unimaginable from sporting icons a generation ago, when vulnerability rarely accompanied athletic greatness.

The Indian father is changing too

Bollywood has quietly mirrored this shift. When Shahid Kapoor became a father to Misha in 2016 (followed later by son Zain), he described fatherhood to GQ India in unexpectedly spiritual terms. “Fatherhood is like taking a bath. It’s cleansing. It’s to love something so pure and so devoid of baggage that it feels like a new start,” he said.

If Prince Harry has spoken about “breaking the cycle”, Ranbir Kapoor has echoed a similar sentiment in the Indian context. Reflecting on his relationship with his late father Rishi Kapoor, Ranbir admitted there had always been “a glass wall” between them. “My father’s relationship with me had a little bit of distance... I want to break that glass wall. I want to be a friend to Raha, give her the wings to fly in whichever direction she wants,” he said while discussing how fatherhood has reshaped his understanding of parenting. In fact, Rishi Kapoor had admitted having distance with his father Raj Kapoor too. He said, “There are times when I feel I’ve missed out on being a friend to my son. I was a strict father because I was brought up to believe that’s how a father should be,” he said.

Shah Rukh Khan, father to Aryan, Suhana and AbRam, has long rejected the stereotype of the distant father despite having one of the busiest careers in Indian cinema. In earlier interviews, he described structuring his shooting schedules around time with his children. “I play with him till he falls asleep,” he once said while speaking about eldest son Aryan as a toddler. Those close to the family, including filmmaker Karan Johar, have frequently remarked that Shah Rukh’s children “adore him” because of how involved he has always been in their everyday lives.

Whether they are global superstars or ordinary fathers rushing home before bedtime, the message is increasingly similar. Success is no longer measured solely by what fathers build for their children. It is measured by whether they are there to watch them grow.

Breaking the cycle

Perhaps the most significant evolution in fatherhood is not that fathers spend more time with their children. It is that many are consciously trying to parent differently from how they themselves were parented, choosing to interrupt cycles of fear, emotional distance and violence rather than pass them on.

Prince Harry, father to Prince Archie and Princess Lilibet, has become one of the most recognisable voices of this movement. During the Apple TV series The Me You Can’t See and later in his memoir Spare, he spoke about what he called “genetic pain” — emotional wounds inherited across generations. “When it comes to parenting, if I’ve experienced some form of pain or suffering because of the pain or suffering my father or my parents suffered, I’m going to make sure I break that cycle,” he said. His words resonated far beyond the royal family, becoming shorthand for a generation of parents determined not to repeat the mistakes they grew up with.

Hollywood actor Will Smith has expressed a similar resolve. In his memoir Will, he reflected on the violence he experienced at home, writing, “I swore there would never be violence in my family. Ever.” Speaking later to Oprah Winfrey, he explained that his greatest wish as a father to Trey, Jaden and Willow was simple: “My children never felt afraid of me.” It was less about rejecting his father entirely than rejecting the fear that had defined much of their relationship.

For Ryan Reynolds, the cycle he wanted to break was one of emotional unpredictability. Describing his father, he once said, “My dad was never an easy person to be around. He was like a skin-covered landmine. You just never knew when you were going to step on the wrong spot, and he was just going to explode.” Today, the father of James, Inez, Betty and Olin often speaks about creating a home built on openness, humour and emotional safety — the kind of environment he wished he had growing up in.

Cristiano Ronaldo has spoken just as candidly about wanting to give his children what he himself missed. Reflecting on his late father’s alcoholism, he admitted, “I never really knew my father 100 per cent. He was drunk most of the time. I never had a normal conversation with him. It was hard.” For Ronaldo, raising Cristiano Jr., Eva, Mateo, Alana Martina and Bella Esmeralda has become an opportunity to offer the emotional presence he longed for as a child.

The idea of breaking the cycle is perhaps most stark in Terry Crews’ story. Growing up in a home scarred by domestic violence, the father of five — Azriel, Tera, Wynfrey, Isaiah and Naomi — wrote in his memoir Manhood, “My father taught me exactly what I didn’t want to become.” Years later, he reflected on redefining masculinity itself, telling Esquire, “I realised strength wasn’t about intimidation. Real strength is being vulnerable enough to love your family well.”

Different childhoods. Different wounds. Yet the same promise runs through each story: my children will inherit something different. Modern fatherhood, increasingly, is becoming an act of interruption — replacing silence with conversation, fear with safety, and inherited pain with intentional love. For many fathers today, raising a child also means re-raising themselves.

The rise of the ‘girl dad’

Few phrases have captured modern fatherhood quite like “girl dad”. The expression gained worldwide recognition after the death of basketball legend Kobe Bryant and his daughter Gianna in 2020. Bryant, who was father to Natalia, Gianna, Bianka and Capri, proudly embraced the label, famously brushing aside suggestions that he wished for a son. As his wife Vanessa Bryant later recalled, he would simply say, “I don’t need a boy. I’ve got this.” Since then, “girl dad” has come to symbolise fathers who celebrate raising daughters with tenderness, pride and emotional openness.

Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, father to Simone, Jasmine and Tiana, called fatherhood “the greatest job I have ever had and the greatest job I will ever have”. Johnson has often credited his daughters for changing him. Speaking on The Drew Barrymore Show, he said, “Being a girl dad has been the greatest thing ever.... They have taught me to be more tender, more patient and more gentle.” Perhaps his most quoted line sums it up best: “Every man wants a son, but every man needs a daughter.”

The sentiment is echoed across Hollywood. Ryan Reynolds has proudly declared, “I’m 100 per cent a girl dad. I love it. I absolutely love it.” Hugh Jackman, father to Ava and Oscar, once reflected, “When I come home, my daughter will run to the door and give me a big hug, and everything that’s happened that day just melts away.”

Telugu star Allu Arjun, father to Ayaan and Arha, has similarly admitted, “When I come home and she runs towards me, all my stress disappears.” Meanwhile, Mahesh Babu frequently celebrates daughter Sitara’s individuality, and Saif Ali Khan, father to Sara, Ibrahim, Taimur and Jeh, has reflected that becoming a father again later in life made him far more patient than he had been in his 20s.

The rise of the “girl dad” is ultimately about more than daughters. It reflects a generation of fathers increasingly comfortable expressing affection, vulnerability and pride in public — qualities that previous generations often kept hidden.

When fame becomes secondary

Perhaps the clearest sign that fatherhood has evolved is how many celebrities now describe it as their defining role.

Justin Timberlake, father to sons Silas and Phineas, recently reflected on parenting during an appearance discussing Father’s Day. “The real winning at parenthood is to wake up every morning and fail over and over again — and still keep trying,” he said, adding that fatherhood had taught him humility more than success ever could.

Oscar-nominated actor Benedict Cumberbatch, father to Christopher, Hal and Finn, said in 2025 that fatherhood had made his emotions “paper thin”. “I cry more easily,” he admitted, explaining that becoming a parent fundamentally changed how he experiences both joy and grief.

Rapper A$AP Rocky, who shares sons RZA and Riot Rose with Rihanna, similarly admitted in an interview with W Magazine that becoming a father made him “less cold” and far more emotionally expressive.

Closer home, Nick Jonas, father to Malti Marie Chopra Jonas, has repeatedly described parenthood as “a beautiful journey” during interviews with People magazine, while Priyanka Chopra Jonas has often spoken about watching him embrace fatherhood with remarkable ease.

These comments share a common thread. Previous generations of famous fathers often spoke proudly about providing opportunities. Today’s celebrity fathers speak just as often about bedtime stories, missed school concerts, emotional vulnerability and wanting to get home before their children fall asleep.

Their language has changed. And in many ways, so has ours. The ideal father is no longer the man who simply gives his children the world. He is the one who chooses to share it with them.

What children remember

Perhaps the biggest change in fatherhood isn’t who fathers are. It’s what we expect them to leave behind.

For generations, a father’s legacy was measured in tangible things — a secure home, financial stability, a good education, an inheritance. Love was often expressed through sacrifice rather than conversation. Many fathers carried the weight of their families, but not always their children’s inner worlds.

Today, that definition is quietly expanding.

Ask most adults about their childhood and few begin with salaries. They remember who taught them to ride a bicycle. Who waited outside the examination hall. Who stayed awake through a fever. Who answered the phone after their first heartbreak. Developmental psychologists have long argued that secure attachment is built not through grand gestures but through countless ordinary moments repeated over time.

Yet this evolution is far from universal. Much of the conversation around emotionally present fatherhood remains centred on urban, educated and financially privileged families. In many parts of rural and semi-urban India, fathers continue to grapple with long working hours, migration for employment, rigid gender roles and limited access to paternity leave or childcare support. For LGBTQIA+ families, too, the journey remains incomplete. While public figures such as Karan Johar have broadened conversations around non-traditional parenting, gay fathers in India continue to face limited legal recognition, social visibility and structural support.

Perhaps that is the quiet revolution of fatherhood. The expectation that fathers should provide has not disappeared — it has simply expanded. Today’s fathers are still expected to earn, protect and guide, but they are also expected to listen, comfort, apologise and grow alongside their children. They are no longer remembered only for what they built for their families, but for the relationship they built with them.

Because long after the school fees have been paid, the toys have been donated and the house has changed hands, children rarely remember the things their fathers bought them. They remember how their fathers made them feel. Safe enough to speak. Brave enough to fail. Loved enough to believe they were worthy exactly as they were.

And perhaps that has always been the inheritance that mattered most.