Fathers have been much in the news this week. I gave a reading in public which my sister declared to be 'up to Hudson standards'. Our father was the Hudson in question. A man of impeccable manners and high expectations of himself and others. He might be a cold man but could anguish for hours over the merits of one or two vents in a sports jacket. So hers was high praise indeed.

The head of the Catholic Church, the ultimate Father, though not a father, has been visiting Britain. Elsewhere Gavin Henson has allegedly been pondering over the relationship between his children and Charlotte Church's new boyfriend. Wayne Rooney should wonder at the implications of his behaviour on his relationship with his son. Madonna, briefly eclipsed by the Pope, eyes up Guy Ritchie's young girlfriend being hugged by her children and, perhaps like me, she wonders about the function of fathers in children's lives. Jamie Oliver and David Cameron had no such doubts.

A recent report concludes that women who have a sister are likely to be happier than those without and I cannot argue with that, though my sister might. But no-one is tackling the vexing question of the role of fathers in children's lives. When female contestants arrive on stage at the X factor they invariably describe themselves as 'single mums' and the audience erupts into enthusiastic applause. There is nothing unusual now in a woman having, indeed choosing to have, a child on her own. Except she hasn't. Had a child on her own, I mean. There is a man, a father, however briefly connected, out there somewhere. No-one suggests that children don't need mothers but dads are often side-lined and marginalised. The very masculinity that men brought to the family has inevitably been eroded by female emancipation. Modern woman sees herself as omni competent. She may well argue that children don't need dads, especially bad dads, and that it is more important that she is happy.

All I can say is that twenty years after his death my sister and I still value what my father would think, seeing him as half our genetic equation, and who else is there to tell us about the perfect vent in a sports jacket? Let's hear it for fathers.