Daddy Cool: Eddie Barnes

JUST before Christmas, an e-mail dropped into my inbox from a lady at the charity Children in Scotland. On the basis of my having written a few pieces in this space about my two small children, I was being asked to speak at a conference taking place next week, entitled Making the Gender Equality Duty Real for Children, Young People and their Fathers.

Come again? I asked.

The conference was being organised by the Scottish Government's equality unit, which is responsible for the Equality Act 2006. This, it emerged, has given birth to the aforementioned Gender Equality Duty. The conference is being held to discuss it. Fathers, you may want to read on, for the Gender Equality Duty has us in its sights.

In essence, as a result of the GED, councils and schools must now "identify specific gender equality issues", and "promote gender equality". The GED will compel the public sector to "challenge assumptions" about "gender stereotyping" in parenting. Here's where we come in: someone has decided that many of us fathers feel "marginalised, undervalued, or even excluded" from the services that we encounter. Apparently, nurseries and schools only talk to our wives and partners. The GED isn't having that. We must be treated equally. So they want a "real dad" to talk to them at the conference. I'm to discuss how we "break down stereotypes" and "engage fathers in services for children and families".

I agreed to appear but now haven't a clue what to think or say. Do I feel "marginalised, undervalued or excluded"? Well, yes, but doesn't everyone? Furthermore, one man's marginalisation is another's peace and quiet with a nice cup of tea. I'm wondering whether this is part of a big plot, in which the equality industry is trying to make dads feel like victims, cut off by cruel stereotypes from our vocation, with the ulterior end of ensuring that we have to do all of the nappy-changing. I'm thinking of standing up on behalf of all the old dads, who have always quite enjoyed being excluded – on the grounds that it means they can go down the pub. But then I'm quite a new dad, and enjoy getting stuck in, so that would just be false. I suppose I could ask my children about gender stereotyping, but they're only two and four, so what do they know. Plus, one of them's a girl (a joke!).

So I'm beginning to regret having said yes. The truth is, I'm reluctant to draw any wider lessons from my own experience. Partly because there aren't any that come to mind. But mostly because it's nice to think it's unique.

• This article was first published in Scotland on Sunday, January 31, 2010