Will You Be My Daddy?

I'm obliquely talking about Joe Biden, but mostly talking about Western Civilization

What the West has been looking for all this time.

It All Sounds So “Pat” (These Headlines Are Gonna Be Dad Jokes)

It’s no secret that if you base your tribe around who can best protect you from the violent monsters that want to eat you, you’ll end up with a patriarchy 99.9% of the time. The next question is, who protects the men? Who makes the decisions that give them the best chance of not being violently killed or eaten by the monsters—both animal and human—that lie outside their borders?

The answer is in the system’s name, “patriarchy” as in “pater”, which is Latin for “father”. Everyone remembers the best parts of their own fathers and then follows the guy who is closest to that ideal as possible. This is partly why we still prefer that our politicians be parents. If you think it’s lame that all our presidents were dads and don’t believe parenthood should have anything to do with leadership, all the parental figures in your life likely failed you. If your dad was running for president and you can’t tell the press about even one time when he did something as your dad that would make him a great president, then you probably had a terrible dad. Even Donald Trump’s kids told FOX he was a great dad.

The Ancient World’s Greatest Dads

The Romans knew the importance of dad-ness consciously. They made a big show of it, put it in all their major rituals, ran it through every aspect of their society, religion, and military. And that’s how they came to rule most of Europe for over 1000 years. The head of the household was the Paterfamilias. The men of august lineage and special training were known as patricians. The powerful men to whom lesser ones groveled and did favors were known as patrons (interestingly, “client” was the name given to those lower in status, perhaps the relationship flipped when we started worshipping youth). The whole, “father knows best” ethos went right up to Mount Olympus, with Jupiter being the only god in the pantheon who was both omnipotent and omniscient.

At first, the Romans tried to keep all the father figures who ran things in their society separate. There was a dad who ran their religion (the Pontifex Maximus or head priest, who later became the pope). And there were two dads who ran the government and lead the armies (the consuls, who were usually from opposite parties or factions). During times of crisis, they would put full state control in the hands of one big temporary daddy, the dictator.

Too Big For Dad’s Breeches

Then, as Rome expanded they found that they needed the big daddy more and more. With more at stake than ever, the fathers who ran the empire began to squabble with one another like children, and the entire republic descended into civil war thrice. Julius Caesar, who was already the high priest Pontifex Maximus going into the second one, emerged as dictator for life and united church and state. Augustus, who inherited Caesar’s name, priesthood, and most of his legions, emerged from the third one a living god. From that moment forward, Augustus Caesar and every Caesar after him became father to the entire empire, with everyone in it effectively a client.

Even with his statue on every corner, his face on every coin, and his legions all over the empire, people still felt this global daddy was going to let them down. The state can only do so much, even with all the decisions being made at the speed of one man. What would a real perfect dad look like?

Meanwhile, in a distant corner of the empire, Jewish radicals were looking for a Caesar of their own. The Messiah was supposed to be a king on the order of David. A great miracle-performing warrior who would overthrow the empire. Not to say their myths didn’t contain a father figure, but He was largely absent in everyday affairs. He’d tried to help in the past, giving them nice things when they were good and punishing them when they grew spoiled, but the Jews were constantly disappointing Him so He stopped talking to them. But there was always the hope that He’d pick a new number one son, as He did with Moses, or David, or Solomon. And that guy would pass on Dad’s wishes and free everyone. Problem was, God had a habit of picking the guy you’d never think was much of a savior. In the past, the chosen boy had been a geezer with no kids, an orphan in Pharaoh’s house, a common shepherd, and even a bug-eating schizophrenic.

My Dad Died So You Could Live

So it didn’t seem totally crazy that the Messiah might be a carpenter who said, “Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s.” Jesus was kind to slaves and whores, but stern with money-lenders and priests. He fed and healed folks (free healthcare!), and even gave out free booze. For many, that was their kind of dad. But it was only after Jesus was crucified that the religion really took off.

Why? The state can’t be a good dad to everyone. Actually, the state is crummier than most dads. Back when Rome was just an ethnically homogenous bunch of farmers contained in one city, you could see how the whole “dad of dads” system could work. You knew the city elders. Saw them looking all trustworthy and honorable in their togas while working the grill at social gatherings. But when Rome became an empire, the closest most people got to Caesar was the marble statue in their city square or the portrait on their coins. And because there was always a flesh-and-blood Caesar so long as the empire was running, there was a person to blame, a guy whose policy shortcomings would drive you secretly into the arms of the dead holy man who would come back any day now to punish him. Sort of like the fantasy kids have when they hate their dads. “He’s not my real dad, my real dad is a Navy Seal/Superhero/King of Kings!”

Dad, the Chthonic Embodiment of State Power

In the eyes of Christians, Caesar and Rome might be the same, but he wasn’t a god, he was The Beast. People today think 5G and microchips are “The Mark of the Beast” but that conception is too narrow. The Beast is the system of human wants and the goods that satisfy them which everyone depends on for survival. That giant all-consuming, life-sustaining monster looked a lot like Rome when John had his fever dreams of armageddon, but it never really went away. Revelation happened and is still happening and will always happen so long as we require the economy to function.

Want more proof? Look at early coins. Before they became the perfectly rounded discs we know today, they were little more than bits of precious metal stamped with a seal, aka a “mark”. For a long time, only those with documents bearing Caesar’s seal could practice a trade, while those without coins bearing Caesar’s seal couldn’t buy anything. To do any business inside the belly of the beast, you needed the beast’s mark. Why did the Book of Revelation say that the mark was on everyone’s head or hands? Because ancient people used to foil pickpockets by holding loose change in their mouths and buy things with coins in hand. Whose mark was on those coins? Caesar’s.

Mark of the Beast, also redeemable for flatbread at your local Forum Romanum

So if you couldn’t get a license to practice your trade, didn’t have the money to buy what you needed, or were mistreated by the empire in any way big or small, you knew exactly who to blame. And the Caesars were far from blameless. If historians like Suetonius are to be believed, rulers like Nero or Caligula were monstrous babies. Either way, enough grievances piled up that more than half the empire lost faith in Caesar as a good dad. They longed for the day when Jesus would come back from the dead and replace him. So Caesar converted to Christianity, effectively passing the buck skyward. Not long after, church and state separated again.

Because God Said So

By the Middle Ages, it was widely recognized that God The Father was the one who let the king be king. They called it the Divine Right of Kings. If your king sucked at being state dad, you could always pray to The Holy Father above him to make things right.

After centuries of those prayers not working out so well for the king’s subjects, people found they could objectively improve their lives with science, which was almost as good as divine intervention. Even though the Enlightenment supposedly birthed nations “founded on reason”, they were really founded by fathers and ruled by dads.

“Dads! We get the job done.”

Every single US president was a dad. From Washington through Nixon to Obama and Trump, all dads letting us down every four to eight years with campaign promises they can’t keep and behaviors unbecoming of a good father. No wonder why record numbers of young people are feeling apathetic and voter turnout continues to trend downward. Western religion ain’t doing much better: the horrors perpetrated by thousands in the Roman Catholic clergy have permanently disillusioned an entire generation, with fewer people attending service than ever before.

Outside of religion and politics, dad is a buffoon. Homer Simpson… Peter Griffin… Jerry from Rick & Morty… It’s safe to say the West has pretty much given up the search for the perfect dad to lead us. But that doesn’t mean we’ve given up handing over our agency to some greater outside force. Instead, that trust has shifted to the feminine.

From Sky Father to Skynet

The internet and A.I., with its promise of soothing discourse and instant gratification, has been called a digital mom. A maternal technology anticipating your every need before you are barely conscious of it. As perfect a recreation of life in the womb as we can muster.

A cartoon that works better than “They Live” glasses.

But it can only lead to disapppointment. Sooner or later, discourse breaks down. When it does, we will be left more childish than ever. While there is no machine or algorithm that can satisfy endless wanting, they can be built to indulge us more than any human possibly can. How has that transformed us? Aristotle conceived of what a person might be like with no reasoning abilities left whatsoever. Such a person would be more terrifying than an animal, because animals have at least some logic to them. They’d be more like an enormous baby—all unsatisfied wanting, irrational resentment, and unpredictable aggression. They’d be Nero. They’d be a beast.

To Be Your Own Man, Start By Being Your Own Dad

Here’s what we’re left with: nearly every true description of adulthood starts with the child becoming able to parent themselves. And yet we continue to look to governments, corporations, and non-profits to solve our problems. We blame “them” for our situation while also demanding that “they” do something to fix what we don’t want to deal with.

There will always be plenty of companies and politicians who will tell us they can fix the world’s inadequacies and protect us from the monsters. But it’s been nearly 3,000 years since the founding of Rome, and how many of them actually have?

Instead, we need to think like decent parents, which involves so much more than just having children. It starts with recognizing that there is no end to want. Understanding that growing up isn’t about getting all we need to be comfortable, but becoming comfortable with not having all we need. It’s taking ownership over what happens to us, even if we didn’t instigate it. Do something about “it”, whatever “it” is that’s bothering you the most. Help others deal with their problems like grown-ups while letting them think they did it all themselves. In short: become someone capable not only of taking responsibility for themselves, but those around them.

The ultimate answer to the whole question of how to make a difference in politics comes back to setting an example in your community, just like when Rome was little more than a cluster of homes and a marketplace spread out across seven hills. Don’t blindly put your faith in the founding fathers, become the person the founding fathers wanted you to believe they were.

Only then can we care for our ailing government.

We must become our own parents.

This is the look of a man who desperately needs your help.