I’ve spent much of the past year reading about the nexus of motherhood and economics (or what I call mamanomics). I’ve found writers happy to highlight the extent to which society runs on unpaid and very underpaid labour; how the lion’s share of that labour, in every place where records exist to check, has been and continues to be done by women; and the many ways this is detrimental to the wellbeing of women, families and communities. But I’ve found surprisingly few authors offering well-considered, practicable ideas as to how the situation might be improved.
David Goodhart has lessened the dearth of constructive voices in this area. His latest book, The Care Dilemma: Caring Enough in the Age of Sex Equality, attempts to consider the full range of problems society faces in providing suitable care for its members, from youngest to oldest. That is a gargantuan task to take on, yet he manages to do so in a text that is wonderfully readable and useful. I would certainly recommend it.
What I’m less certain of is who I should recommend it to. Because it will ruffle many feathers, and probably put off a lot of the people who ought to find it most interesting. Namely, mothers.
Goodhart is somewhat aware of this hazard. As he acknowledges in the introduction, a man trying to write about “the traditionally female realms of care”, and the many care-related problems that have remained or indeed arisen through the past 50 years of intense societal change the world over, is going to be met with suspicion by those who fear that anyone valuing family and caring labour must want to devalue female liberty and ambition.
The Care Dilemma by David Goodhart: A book about the vital unpaid care work that makes society tick will antagonise many readers
Motivations of the Irish who served in the first World War were complicated
Mary Poppins comes to Dublin: Behind the scenes of the all-singing, all-dancing Christmas show
New poetry: Drypoint; The Shark Nursery; Veld Fires; Goodlord
Indeed, the book has received defensive reviews already. One accuses Goodhart of putting all the “blame” for the crisis in social care on women – which is absolutely not the case. Another rolls out the common but absurd suggestion that taking interest in the world’s plummeting birth rates is the preserve of the political far right – as though a large global shift with many long-term implications shouldn’t be of interest to anyone with a lick of curiosity about society and its future. Which, indeed, is Goodhart’s case: “I don’t want anybody to go back anywhere,” he asserts. “This is a forward-looking book.”
The real stretch is the idea that those with the means to push for change will embrace care as the truly urgent ethical and economic priority that it is
Despite these best of intentions, however, Goodhart seems to underestimate the extent to which he pushes readers’ buttons. He has a tendency to toss in his own personal hunches about correlations between social phenomena, often without sufficient reasoning or data to support them. As the mother of “only” one child, one example that particularly jumps out at me is his theory that the increasing number of families having only one child has caused a rise in narcissism in high-income countries.
Goodhart is very staunchly in favour of large families, and I don’t doubt that there are benefits to having a lot of kin. But if you’re going to suggest that your readers’ reproductive choices are bad for their children and the fabric of society, you really ought to broach such subjects with great tact, and back your “is it a coincidence?” speculating with some seriously sound evidence. Goodhart’s failure to do so can’t help but antagonise readers, which does an unfortunate disservice to this book and his cause. And I am surprised that no editor flagged it.
It would be a shame to let this feature put readers off the rest of the book, which brings a lot to the conversation around care as both a public and private good. The sections where Goodhart digs into specific policy problems are particularly strong. He demonstrates an impressive familiarity with the many, many issues that fall under the wide umbrella of care, and offers a broad selection of actionable, often quite granular changes that could be made across the board. Changes to things such as tax allowances, care allowances, parental leave, pension contributions, town planning, training schemes and incentives for care workers.
Reading them all in one place confirms the feeling that yes, society really could be arranged far better to enable us to look after each other. And it makes you realise that we already hold dozens of ways to change it for the better that wouldn’t even be that much of a stretch from the status quo. The real stretch is the idea that those with the means to push for change will embrace care as the truly urgent ethical and economic priority that it is. I suppose they are the ones then to whom I would most emphatically recommend The Care Dilemma. Though I do think anyone with affection for so much as one child, or one parent, ought to give it a go.
Solana Joy is a critic
