Rankin’s easy-going manner changed. He sat up and frowned. “There you step on one of my corns, Doctor”—he did not apologize for the rustic metaphor—“I don’t believe a single, solitary identical word of that. It’s my most hotly held conviction that women are so much like humans that you can’t tell the difference with a microscope. I mean, if they’re interested in petty, personal things it’s because they’re not given a fair chance at big, impersonal things. Everybody’s jumping on the American woman because she knows more about bridge-whist than about her husband’s business. Why does she? Because he’s satisfied to have her—you can take my word for it! He likes her to be absorbed in clubs and bridge and idiotic little dabblings in near-culture and pseudo-art, just for the reason that a busy mother gives her baby a sticky feather to play with. It keeps the baby busy. It keeps his wife’s attention off him. It’s the American man just as much as the woman who’s mortally afraid of a sure-enough marriage with sure-enough shared interests. He doesn’t want to bother with children, or with the servant problem or the questions of family life, and he doesn’t want his wife bothering him in his business any more than she wants him interfering with hers. That idea of the matter is common to them both.”
“That’s a fine, chivalric view of the situation,” said the doctor sardonically. “Maybe if you’d practiced as long in as many American families as I have, you might have a less idealistic view of your female compatriots.”
“I don’t idealize ’em,” cried Rankin. “Good Lord! Don’t I say they’re just like men? They amount to something if they’re given something worth while to do—not otherwise.”
“Don’t you call bringing up children worth while?”
“You bet I do. So much so that I’d have the fathers take their full half of it. I’d have men do more inside the house and less outside, and the women the other way ’round.”
The doctor recoiled at this. “Oh, you’re a visionary. It couldn’t be done.”
“It couldn’t be done in a minute,” admitted Rankin.
The doctor mused. “It’s an interesting thought. But it’s not for our generation. A new idea is like a wedge. You have to introduce it by the thin edge. The only way to get it started is by beginning with the children. Adults are hopeless. There’s never any use trying to change them.”
“Oh, you can’t fool children,” said Rankin. “It’s no use teaching them something you’re not willing to make a try at yourself. They see through that quick enough! What you’re really after, is what they see and learn to go after themselves. If anything’s to be done, the adults must take the first step.”
“But, as society is organized, the idea is preposterous.”