FATHERHOOD - The Father I Watched Television With
What McCain's The Dad Joke Effect Campaign Made Me Think About Fathers, Presence and Connection
I was recently watching television, which remains one of my favourite activities that doesn't involve leaving the house. In fairness, leaving the house doesn't always make my top five either.
I happened to be watching a channel that wouldn't let me fast forward through the adverts, which is usually the point where I start wondering whether I actually need a cup of tea after all.
Then a McCain advert appeared.
Firstly, it made me wonder when I last had chips.
Secondly, and rather unexpectedly, it made me stop and pay attention.
The advert forms part of McCain's recent The Dad Joke Effect campaign, developed in partnership with Beyond Equality. It explores the changing relationship between fathers and sons as boys move towards adolescence and asks an important question: how do we stay emotionally connected as our children grow older?
The campaign is supported by research suggesting that many fathers worry about drifting apart from their sons during the teenage years whilst often feeling unsure how to stay emotionally connected. Alongside a beautifully understated film directed by Jim Archer, photography by Rankin, and contributions from Professor Anna Tarrant, Dr Robert Lawson and Elliott Rae, the campaign reminds us that meaningful relationships are rarely built through grand gestures.
They're built through ordinary moments.
Connection matters.
Humour helps.
Presence matters.
Sometimes the smallest moments become the ones we remember most.
All sensible things.
Yet whilst reading about the campaign, I found myself thinking about my own dad.
To be completely honest, it also made me think about another advert entirely.
Will it be chips or jacket spuds?
Will it be salad or frozen peas?
Will there be mushrooms?
Fried onion rings?
You'll have to wait and see...
We hope it's chips, it's chips...
I'll give you a moment for the ending.
...
Right, I'm back.
Because once I'd stopped thinking about chips, I found myself thinking about television.
Or more accurately, I found myself realising that I don't actually remember watching much television with my dad.
Not because we didn't get on.
Not because he wasn't around.
But because he always seemed to be doing something.
Working.
Fixing.
Building.
Repairing.
Providing.
Being useful.
Looking back, I realise that many fathers of his generation expressed love through action rather than conversation.
You didn't necessarily sit down and talk about your feelings.
You made sure the roof didn't leak.
You went to work.
You paid the bills.
You fixed the fence.
You demonstrated care through responsibility.
The difficulty is that children don't always experience responsibility as connection.
They experience presence as connection.
And those two things are not always the same.
As a therapist working with men and fathers, I often notice an unspoken belief that being a good father means doing more.
Providing more.
Working harder.
Fixing more.
Being stronger.
Yet when adult sons talk about their fathers, the memories that stay with them are rarely about provision.
They're about presence.
The walk you took together.
The conversation in the car.
Watching football on a Saturday afternoon.
Doing very little in particular.
Being noticed.
Being known.
Being understood.
Reading through McCain's The Dad Joke Effect campaign, the work undertaken by Beyond Equality, and the reflections shared by Professor Anna Tarrant, Dr Robert Lawson and Elliott Rae, I was struck by how often they returned to that same simple idea.
Not grand gestures.
Not expensive experiences.
Not becoming the perfect father.
Just intentional moments of connection.
A conversation after school.
A shared hobby.
A dad joke that makes your son roll his eyes whilst secretly enjoying it.
An interest in how he experiences the world.
Connection isn't necessarily about creating more time.
It's about becoming more present within the time you already have.
Simple.
Obvious.
And surprisingly difficult.
What makes this particularly complicated is that many fathers are carrying things of their own.
Grief that was never spoken about.
Losses that were never processed.
Pressures they never felt able to share.
For some men there is also the experience of neurodivergence that has only been recognised later in life.
Years spent masking.
Years spent trying to fit expectations.
Years spent learning the rules of connection whilst quietly feeling slightly outside them.
When those experiences sit beneath the surface, connection can become more complicated than it first appears.
Not because love isn't present.
But because expressing it can become harder.
A father may care deeply.
A son may know that.
Yet both can still experience a distance neither quite knows how to bridge.
Which is why I found myself drawn to one phrase throughout McCain's campaign.
Intentional presence.
Not perfect presence.
Not constant presence.
Not social-media-worthy presence.
Just intentional presence.
The decision to stop doing for a moment and simply be with.
A conversation.
A shared activity.
A walk.
A cup of tea.
A football match.
A moment that quietly says,
"I'm here."
Not because it solves everything.
But because relationships are often built through hundreds of moments that seem insignificant at the time.
The older I get, the more I suspect that very few people remember the perfectly repaired fence.
They remember who was standing beside them while it was being repaired.
Perhaps that's the quiet challenge running through McCain's The Dad Joke Effect campaign and the work of Beyond Equality. Whether expressed through the research of Professor Anna Tarrant, the observations of Dr Robert Lawson, the advocacy of Elliott Rae, or simply through the stories shared by fathers themselves, the message feels remarkably consistent.
Not whether fathers love their children.
Most do.
But whether we create enough moments for that love to be experienced as connection.
Because there is a difference.
And sometimes that difference shapes a lifetime.
