Father’s Day Is the Gift: Why We Need More Dads, Not More Gadgets

Fatherhood isn’t a performance. It’s daily work, and it’s the gift we need.

Hey there y’all, hope you all had a happy Father’s Day - may your handmade mugs runneth over. In recognition of the holiday, we’re getting back to basics today and exploring some of the first principles of fatherhood.

In the last few days of May, my wife asked me the classic question: “What do you want for Father’s Day?” Apparently, I’m “hard to buy for.” Last year was easy - my first Father’s Day. Slap “First Father’s Day” on a t-shirt or coffee mug, and I was set. This year? I had no clue. So I did what anyone does when faced with an existential crisis: I scrolled. Gift guides, online articles, Amazon best-sellers… none of it sparked joy. Grilling gadgets? Don’t grill that much. Golf gear? Don’t golf. Whiskey accessories? I’ll pass on the Viking ship decanter. At one point, I caught myself staring at a “20 Must-Have Father’s Day Gifts” list and muttering, “Am I out of touch?”

Eventually, I gave up on the big stuff and sent my wife a long list of kitchen gadgets: apple corers, berry slicers, veggie choppers, you get the idea. Because honestly? In the stage of fatherhood I’m in, any tool that makes snack time easier is a luxury. With a toddler who could live on fruit alone, anything that speeds up slicing blueberries - or peeling a mango - is a small victory. There’s something about these little, practical tools that makes the daily grind just a bit smoother, and at this point, that feels like a gift worth asking for.

But as I spiraled deeper into the world of fruit prep, I kept circling back to a bigger question: What’s the greatest Father’s Day gift? Not just for me, but for all of us?

It’s not a gadget or a grill. It’s not a new wallet or a fancy bottle of bourbon. The greatest Father’s Day gift is more fathers. Men willing to step into the hard, vital work of raising the next generation. The ugly truth is that fewer kids now means fewer fathers tomorrow. That’s not just a hypothetical - U.S. birth rates have been falling for years, hitting their lowest level in over a century in 2023. It’s the reason playgrounds feel a little quieter, why fewer teams are forming on the field, and why we might look around in the future and wonder where all the kids have gone.

It also means our social safety nets - Social Security, Medicare, and the broader systems that depend on a strong, working-age population - are at risk. I’ve written about it previously, so I won’t dwell on it too long, but fewer kids today means fewer people tomorrow to sustain the structures that support retirees, care for the vulnerable, and keep communities running. This isn’t just a “family” issue; it’s a societal one.

But the need for more fathers is about more than just birth rates. It’s about the kind of men we’re raising, the kind of men we’re becoming, and the kind of men our culture encourages us to be. Every child deserves a father - someone to model love, patience, and strength; someone who knows how to lead with empathy, how to hold the line when necessary, and how to say, “I’m proud of you” without reservation. When we have fewer fathers, we lose out on men learning how to love and serve their families in a way that stretches and transforms them. Fewer fathers means fewer men growing into the kind of steady, reliable presence a child can count on when the world feels shaky.

To be clear, we don’t just need more fathers, we also need better fathers. Not perfect fathers - those don’t exist - but fathers who show up, who stay in the game, and who choose the long, sometimes thankless road of daily presence over the shiny distractions of status or success. Too often in the era of social media, we’re sold shallow ideas about what fatherhood should be.

There’s the influencer dad - perfectly bearded, holding a baby in one arm while arranging a charcuterie board with the other - who makes it look like fatherhood is just an accessory to a lifestyle brand. Then there’s the alpha dad, spouting off about real masculinity in his garage while his wife changes a diaper in the other room, who treats fatherhood as a status badge rather than a calling of service. Both of these narratives push narrow, unhelpful visions of what it means to be a man and a father. They tell dads to focus on the image we project - whether it’s curated perfection or chest-thumping authority - rather than the real, daily work of love, sacrifice, and presence. And in doing so, they distract men from the far more important task of showing up when it’s hard, staying humble when it’s messy, and building something bigger than themselves.

None of this is glamorous, and it’s not always fun. But it matters, more than we often realize. Fatherhood is the quiet, consistent work of shaping a life, and in that shaping, it also reshapes the man himself. It calls men to set aside ego, to choose family over self, to sacrifice and to grow. And that’s why we need more men willing to say yes to fatherhood, not just the ones who always knew they wanted kids, but the ones who never really pictured themselves as dads, the ones waiting for the “right time” or wondering if they’re ready. There’s no perfect moment, and there’s no perfect man. There’s just the daily decision to show up, to care, and to love, even when you feel in over your head.

Of course, not everyone can have kids. That’s real, and that’s okay. But for those who can - and who are on the fence - maybe the best gift you could give your family, your community, and the future isn’t another gadget or a bigger house. It’s a child to raise, a future to build, and a heart to shape. And for all of us, whether we have kids or not, we can still be fathers in the broader sense: men who invest in the next generation, who mentor, who guide, who stand in the gap when needed.

So what do I want for Father’s Day? Not a new grill. Not a golf club. Not a whiskey decanter. I want a future with more fathers—more men stepping into the essential, ordinary, and extraordinary work of raising children with love, patience, and presence. I want a culture that sees fatherhood not as a hobby or an afterthought, but as a calling worth honoring. And hey, if someone wants to toss in a mango peeler, I’ll take that too.

That’s a Father’s Day gift worth unwrapping.