Dads' Dilemma

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Fifty years ago, parenting was so much simpler for Asian men. As the sole breadwinner, a dad's responsibilities typically ceased the moment he crossed the threshold of his home and flopped into his favorite chair, while mom dealt with the dinner and the children. "The father in the previous generation was more aloof, removed from the family and emotionally more detached," says Daniel Wong, a University of Hong Kong professor of social welfare and author of a 2003 study on the stresses faced by dads. Says Benjamin Naden, a client manager at Microsoft in Singapore who sometimes snatches an hour or two from work to watch his kids in sports events: "We understood that our father was the breadwinner and had to work, but kids today have different expectations. They require more of your time."

Yet many fathers find there's less of it to give. Asian men are becoming fathers later in life, when they tend to have less time for their children. "Career responsibilities increase with age," says Raphael Chan, a director of a fast-food chain in Singapore who became a first-time father at age 41. "But this was the point at which I had a child, and it was hard." Multitasking and an accelerated workflow present other challenges for the single-task-oriented male brain. And technological advances—from vibrating Blackberries to the addictive allure of high-speed Internet access at home—have made it all the harder to detach from work. Finally, when you consider the retrenchments and economic wipeouts that have set the temper of their working lives over the past decade—the financial crisis of 1997, the dotcom implosion of 2000, the downturn in the wake of SARS in 2003—it's easy to see why Asian men have prioritized work. "Since 1997, it's not been possible to get a bonus," says Wong, the Hong Kong buyer and father of four. Spurred by the fear that their incomes will dry up or their jobs will be cut, many men work longer hours in a bid to prove their indispensability.

But unlike their fathers, Asian men today face an epoch-shifting change: the entry of women into the workforce. Having two incomes has brought economic benefits to countless families, and given women rich opportunities for fulfillment, but it has left men scrambling to become the fully fledged co-parents their wives now need them to be. In fact, many men are experiencing, for the first time, the conflicting pulls of career and home that have long bedeviled working women. These overstretched fathers are still getting used to the idea that they're no longer excused from taking on a wider family role. Increasingly, they are "sharing more housework with their spouses, such as buying groceries, picking up the kids from school, changing diapers and feeding the babies," says Zhang Liang, a researcher on fatherhood at the Shanghai Academy of Social Sciences. Chan, the fast-food executive, is one of the legion of fathers who has had to adapt accordingly. "My wife picks our son up from playschool and brings him to her workplace, and cooks him something to eat in the pantry there," he says. "I come and pick them up a couple of hours later and bring them home at around 9 p.m."

And it isn't just chauffeuring that's required. Fathers need to stimulate their children intellectually and emotionally just as much as mothers do, whether that means helping with homework or listening to a child's problems. In cultural terms, this is a seismic shift. Bear in mind that half a century ago, as men moved from villages to cities—or overseas—to find work, they had very little contact with their sons. Those sons, with educations paid for by their fathers' remittances, were able to advance up the socioeconomic ladder. But the jobs they took—many of them white-collar jobs at the heart of the Asian economic boom—robbed them of a family life, too. Today, their sons—the third generation and the present crop of fathers—are the product of two previous generations of absent dads. "The pattern of fatherlessness can be passed down," says Wong Suen Kwong, who says he started the Centre for Fathering because he was having trouble relating to his teenage daughters.

Recognizing that fathers need encouragement if they are to change, society bombards them with helpful (or guilt-inducing) messages every time they pick up a remote control. Viewers of China Central TV wake up each day to the sight of pop star and actor Lin Yilun hosting a cooking show produced by the government in the hope that men will learn to effortlessly relieve their wives at the wok. In 2006, Japanese men were invited to benchmark themselves against the central character of Love Mum More Than Anyone—a TV drama series about an exemplary stay-at-home dad. Japan's print media has also decided that men need to be educated in a style of fathering hitherto unknown. Not long ago, the idea of a Japanese magazine about fathering might have been dismissed with a derisory snort. But last year saw the launch of two upscale glossies now duking it out for market share—Oceans and FQ. "The most frequent comment fathers make is, 'I've been waiting for a magazine like this,'" says FQ's advertising manager, Masashi Nakatomi. "Wives will say, 'My husband has become more aware after reading it.'" Both magazines feature celebrity fathers. FQ has even had Johnny Depp on its cover—all part of an unlikely effort to equate dads with cool.

Media images like this may be contrived, but behind them lies the truth that's the salvation of many overworked fathers: namely, men who play a fuller role at home often find it energizing and cheering rather than an additional cause of exhaustion. For his children's sake, Masato Yamada took a year off from his job at Japan's Ministry of the Economy, Trade and Industry (METI), and was so delighted with the experience that he wrote a book: METI Assistant Manager Yamada is Currently on Paternity Leave. "Many people take their jobs very seriously—to the degree that they think Japan will collapse without them—and work 24/7," says Yamada. "But from a long-term perspective, getting involved in parenting is a plus."