In republican Rome, to address the problem of falling birth rates, marriages were frequently arranged between men and women already pregnant by other men. Today, to remedy male infertility, we often turn to heterologous fertilization—becoming fathers through another man's seed. Between these two scenarios, separated by more than two thousand years but not so different in their results, lie the radical transformations investigated in Giulia Galeotti's latest book: In Search of the Father: A History of Paternal Identity in the Modern Age (Laterza, 2009). By asking—and asking us—"who is a father" and "what makes a man a father," the author traces the crucial developments of a story that, for more than a century since the discovery of blood groups, has hung in the balance between science and law. Her account begins with Napoleon's decree against illegitimate children, when the legal system—which had "no interest whatever in bastards being acknowledged," as the French commander plainly stated—forbade the search for paternity. A child born outside wedlock had no hope of ever bearing his father's name, a fate that, though somewhat softened, also befell illegitimates born in unified Italy. For them, without the law seeing any contradiction, the father at best could become only a debtor—compelled by law to pay support but not to acknowledge the child. This principle rested on the ancient formula mater sempre certa est, pater numquam (the mother is always certain, the father never is) and on the social need to compensate for that uncertainty by protecting the family born of marriage. The consequence, Galeotti explains, is the necessity of male consent: "one is a father only if one declares oneself to be," regardless of any biological bond.
Science, however, fundamentally reversed the situation. Today, through DNA, it reveals paternity without hesitation. Italy's legal response to this revolution—a response that in some ways anticipated scientific discoveries still to come—was the 1975 family law reform. It abolished the term "illegitimate" from the civil code while authorizing genetic analysis to determine paternity. An end to paternal flight. The beginning of a new era of responsibility for male parents. But not an end to searching. In a fascinating postscript, the author sketches future scenarios far different from those imagined only a few years ago, when science seemed to have finally torn away the veil of uncertainty that had surrounded fatherhood for centuries. The explosive growth of so-called blended families—the result of separations, divorces, and subsequent unions—combined with the increasing use of in vitro fertilization and heterologous techniques, now poses new and painful questions: who is truly the father? The man who passed on his genes? Or the man who raised the child? There is no single answer, and Galeotti does not presume to provide one. Her merit lies in offering readers not only a rigorous historical reconstruction but also a valuable invitation to reflect on a theme of profound importance to current public debate. The book's richness lies equally in her skillful weaving of examples—drawn from history and literature, from gossip columns and political chronicles, from film and television—that give visual substance to her arguments. Among the most compelling figures is Saint Joseph, "social father of Jesus," the prototype of a fatherhood rooted in love and devotion before any biological bond and, from the Catholic Reformation onward, "the father par excellence, perfectly balancing love for his son and concern for his welfare with faithfulness to his heavenly Father."
Silvia Gusmano, 2009