Understanding Boris Johnson’s Family Dynamics: A Parent’s Perspective

The expressions of sympathy from fellow dads are unmistakable. When they inquire about how many children I have and I reply with a cheerful “four,” there’s often a hearty, almost exaggerated reaction followed by a wince as they grasp the reality. With four children, you’re not merely outnumbered; you’re facing a veritable onslaught. Parenting transforms from a task into an all-out battle for survival.

My eldest is nearing university graduation while my youngest has just entered their teenage years, so we’ve passed some of the most challenging phases. However, the financial responsibilities remain daunting. Hearing that Boris and Carrie Johnson recently welcomed their fourth child, Poppy, struck a chord with my experiences as a parent.

Many question why Johnson opts for pursuits that seem beyond his expertise, from writing a Shakespeare biography to navigating politics. A poignant truth emerges: he has a large family to support.

His family isn’t limited to the four children he shares with Carrie; his previous marriage added four more, along with at least one child from an affair. With nine children total, he joins the ranks of historical figures like the Duke of Portland, who also had many offspring. Back in the 18th century, large families were practical in the face of high infant mortality rates.

In today’s world, a big family could be seen as a statement of success, a display of dominance, akin to figures like Gordon Ramsay or Elon Musk, or it can become a fiscal nightmare.

As for me, I have my four kids due to a heartfelt — and somewhat tearful — agreement with my wife.

Coming from a large Catholic family, she cherished the energy and companionship that filled her childhood home. She made it clear early in our relationship that she envisioned “at least” four children. Apparently, I nodded in agreement during our vows. Looking back, I acquiesced on many fronts.

After our third child, I grasped her serious intentions. “I want a big gang,” she would insist, leading to intense discussions and ultimately, my reluctant acceptance. Had I been open to it, we might have had five, a notion that filled me with dread.

When the kids were all under nine, managing their needs felt like herding cats — PE kits, lost shoes, and travel gear cluttered our lives. Over time, however, the challenge shifted to upgrading our living space, vehicles, and even kitchen appliances. The realization that a standard car won’t hold four kids became starkly clear, necessitating a hefty, multifunctional vehicle. Equally important was ensuring our toaster could keep up with requests for hot cross buns by four hungry kids.

Though I acknowledge my privilege in having four healthy kids, the financial strain is undeniable.

All of my children — Alexander, 22; Felix, 19; Celia, 17; and Arthur, 13 — share a passion for the Olympics, compelling us to plan a family trip to the Games in Paris. However, to secure seats, the organizers mandated that each spectator attend a minimum of three events. This translated to a staggering cost of €1,881 for 18 tickets.

While singles rightfully voice concerns over costs, a simple family outing to a restaurant quickly balloons to around £140, equivalent to an extravagant meal for one. Our trips to the cinema often involve buying snacks in advance from the supermarket to avoid inflated prices. Despite my past tendencies toward thriftiness, my household responsibilities have only intensified. I’ve found myself frequently declaring, “Do you think I’m made of money!?” in response to the demands of my children.

Now that my two oldest are in university, expenses continue to rise, as student loans scarcely cover rent in most areas, let alone day-to-day living. They’re now depending on me for contributions to their grocery bills and outings. The kids can munch through a bulk pack of biscuits in seconds while groceries barely make it inside before they’re depleted. To top it off, my 19-year-old’s latest fitness obsession means he’s clearing out our fridge fruit stocks, seemingly without regard for cost.

While I wouldn’t change my circumstances, including the financial challenges, it might just be the right moment for Johnson to dive into that Shakespeare manuscript—his family’s future likely depends on it.