I vividly remember the first time I was introduced to the phrase “Family Values.” It was the early 1990’s and I was driving in my car. I looked out of the window and saw the strange verbiage promoting a new subdivision on a towering billboard above the highway.

The sign didn’t perturb me, but I was puzzled by the slogan. Having grown up in a series of subdivisions, it went without saying that the existing cul-de-sacs were always brimming with families.

So, what made this development so different? Did they forbid singles from living behind the gates? What if a divorce occurred, did the broken family have to move? Did offspring have to eventually leave if they had not married by a certain age? Were gay people forbidden from living there?

What I found most bewildering was the idea of promoting family, as if it were a prefab product that could be marketed, packaged and came with 2 ½ bathrooms. That seemed as forced and unnatural as the wax fruit placed on the coffee tables of model homes in such developments.

At that time, my parents had been together for more than 20 years (They celebrate their 40 year anniversary in August). Their lifetime together was just an organic experience that didn’t need to be trumpeted. They never had to say, “look at us, aren’t we just the healthiest, happiest family you’ve ever seen? Check out our wonderful morals and values. Aren’t we special? And, by the way, vote for a specific political party to keep us together.”

Aside from politicians kissing babies and posing with their brood, I always imagined the value of family to be a private affair. It was an intimate bond between two people and their children. The ostentatious commercial worship of this unit seemed jarring and exploitative. Indeed, it seemed anathema to actual healthy families. If one’s family were so wonderful, after all, why would it need a special subdivision?

Shortly after I saw this billboard, President George Bush and his vacuous Vice President, Dan Quayle, brought the “family values” mantra into the political arena. Religious scolds, who worked to transform marriage from a private institution to a very public one, championed this moral marketing campaign. The GOP soon recast itself as the great defender of family and assiduously catered to this crowd, who eventually took over the party.

In reality, of course, strong families don’t need to be defended. If a husband and wife are busy cuddling, they don’t need candidate crusaders. If parents are taking their children to soccer practice, they don’t need James Dobson socking imagined enemies. (Read More)