«Being a parent is the last great adventure of our time»

Time: 16 min
A conversation with Nik Niethammer, editor-in-chief of *Fritz+Fränzi*, about love, good fathers, and the advice he gives his children when they become parents themselves.
Interview: Mikael Krogerus

Photographs: Maurice Haas / ​13 Photo

Mr Niethammer, when one reads your editorials, in which you occasionally reveal a little about yourself, one feels as though one knows you a little. But one doesn't really know who you are.

That's perfectly fine by me.

Let's change that a little today. Firstly, secondly, thirdly: what does the editor-in-chief of *Fritz+Fränzi* spend most of his time doing?

By talking, by reflecting. And by reading texts. I absolutely love talking to my team, especially to Evelin Hartmann, my deputy. We talk about family, about bringing up children, about the children, and about the next issue. And I read lots of texts that are sent to us, including those by authors we've commissioned. And then I reflect on it all.

The pressure that parents put on themselves, but also the pressure that comes from outside, has certainly increased.

You have your finger on the pulse of Swiss parents. What are families most concerned about at the moment?

I believe that parenthood in itself is incredibly challenging. It is perhaps the last great adventure of our time. You have to embrace it. Parenthood brings with it extreme feelings of connection and affection. But parenthood also means failing, it means making mistakes time and again, and realising that many things are different from how you might have imagined or hoped they would be.

Is being a parent harder these days than it used to be?

The pressure we put on ourselves, but also the pressure that comes from outside, has certainly increased. We live in complicated, challenging, even threatening times. When I think back to my own childhood, the most important question was: «Can we go out again after our evening snack?» Today, I discuss cyberbullying and problematic content on social media with my children; they ask questions about climate change, wars and threats, and an uncertain future.

Nik Niethammer on parents and parenthood
Nik Niethammer has been a journalist for over 40 years, having worked for TeleZüri, *Schweizer Illustrierte* and Sat.1 in Berlin, amongst others. He has been editor-in-chief of *Fritz+Fränzi* since 2014 . Niethammer is married to the travel journalist and presenter Tamina Kallert. The couple have two teenage children – a son and a daughter.

From a parent's perspective, three issues seem to dominate: work-life balance, screen time and ADHD. Let's go through these three together. Issue number one: How do you balance family and work?

I think the most important thing is for parents to discuss this issue at length and look for solutions together. In other words, it shouldn't be a case of one parent dictating how they'd like things to be, whilst the other simply has to go along with it. My mum decided back then – partly under pressure from my dad – to give up her job when the children came along. And she sometimes let us – I have an older brother and a younger sister – know later on that she actually regretted it. I've always told myself that if I ever have a family of my own, I'll definitely make sure that doesn't happen.

How exactly does that work for you?

I work 80 per cent of full time and play my part in family and child-rearing responsibilities. That said, I've learnt that a man is better off not saying, «I support my wife.» It's much more effective for the man to take on entire areas of responsibility himself and make sure he sees them through to a successful conclusion.

What are your areas of expertise?

Whenever I have time, I take care of the washing and the shopping, liaise with the school, coordinate the family calendar and our holidays, and do odd jobs around the house.

What advice would you give to others when it comes to balancing work and family life?

Ideally, the division would be 50:50, and we know families who do it that way, but often it's simply not possible given the nature of their jobs. And there are, of course, other models besides the nuclear family. I, for example, live in a multi-generational household. My mother-in-law, who's turning 80 this year and is still very sprightly, plays a big part in bringing up the children. That's a real blessing. My wife is a travel journalist and is away a lot – without my mother-in-law, our family setup simply wouldn't work.

I'm impressed by how much more involved fathers are in family life these days.

Topic number two: screen time.

A tricky subject. It's a burden. And it's probably the issue that causes the most arguments in families today, including my own. Basically, I think that parenting means setting an example, and that applies particularly to media literacy. So my wife and I always take a look at our own media use when we turn to the children and say, «Put your mobiles away.» And I have to admit, unfortunately, that we're not the very best role models in that respect.

Topic number three: ADHD. The diagnosis is so widespread – wouldn't it make more sense to put all children on medication first and then test to see who doesn't have it?

We recently had an interview with the sociologist Pascal Rudin, who, conversely, said that diagnoses are made and conditions medicalised too quickly these days. It caused quite a bit of a furore. I am anything but an expert, but what I do not believe is that ADHD is some sort of superpower. The psychological strain associated with this neurological condition is considerable for those affected and those around them.

Nik Niethammer in conversation with Mikael Krogerus about work-life balance and parenthood
On the veranda of the Fischerstube in Zurich: «Without my mother-in-law, our family dynamic wouldn't work,» says Nik Niethammer.

Now let's get to know you a little better. What was your upbringing like?

We lived in modest circumstances. My father was a typesetter, a profession that no longer exists today. The five of us lived in a four-room flat; I shared a room with my brother until I was 18. I had to do my homework at the kitchen table because there wasn't enough room in the children's bedrooms. We could never really invite friends round either; there simply wasn't enough room. My father sat at the head of the table, and we children only spoke when we were asked. And yet we felt safe and loved; I had a fairly carefree childhood.

What do you mean by «carefree»?

Behind our block of flats there was an adventure playground. A construction company was using the site as a storage area, and we used to climb all over an old crane and climb into rusty tanks barefoot. I used to skate along the road on roller skates, and no cars ever came along because there were hardly any cars at all. That's what I mean by «carefree», and I'm afraid those days won't come back. I wish more children today could experience that sense of carefreeness the way I was lucky enough to.

Would you say things used to be better?

Yes.

And which was worse?

Parents used to have far less knowledge. When, for example, Fabian Grolimund writes a column today setting out possible reasons and causes as to why a child might be resistant or unhappy in certain situations, this information helps parents to respond more effectively to their child in their day-to-day parenting. In the past, this kind of insight didn't exist. Or it wasn't passed on to parents. Back then, the response was: «Don't be silly» or «Pull yourself together».

You can't plan, control or safeguard everything; you can only hope that things turn out well.

When you read *Fritz+Fränzi*, you gain an incredible wealth of knowledge, yet at the end of the day you're still left on your own with the enormous task of bringing up children. Does knowing more actually help?

I am far from claiming that only those who read «Fritz+Fränzi» are good fathers or mothers. We are guides, sometimes companions; we offer suggestions and put things into perspective. We highlight things that may not have been widely known, but we have no intention of overwhelming our readers, let alone patronising them. We are extremely self-critical here in the editorial team. That's why we're all the more delighted when people thank us for our work and write: «You help us to be good parents.» That is, of course, the greatest thing a journalist could imagine… I've just thought of something else that seems better to me today.

Please, tell us!

I'm struck by how much more involved fathers are in family life these days. They attend parents’ evenings, read parenting guides and take part in further learning. Although 80 per cent of those attending our «Kosmos Kind» lecture series are still women, I find that the men who do come are extremely interested and motivated.

Nik Niethammer in conversation with Mikael Krogerus about parenthood
«Good parents make twenty mistakes a day. That's become my motto,» says Nik Niethammer (left) in conversation with Mikael Krogerus.

What actually makes a good father?

Someone who loves their children, no matter what path they take, no matter what they achieve or what sort of life they lead. And who doesn't make that love conditional. And yes, who keeps trying, even when they make mistakes. Jesper Juul said: «Good parents make twenty mistakes a day.» That has become my motto. I'm very happy to stick to it. I reckon I make at least twenty mistakes a day. But I don't give up; I keep trying, and a lot of things are going well too.

Modern parents want to do everything right, but they end up driving themselves crazy in the process. How do you strike a balance?

Research now shows that parents have far less influence over their children than they realise. On the one hand, I find this reassuring; it takes the pressure off parents. On the other hand, it's a little sobering. You think: all that matters is setting a good example and loving your child. And then you're told: «You can't really influence your child's life that much.»

What sort of child were you?

I was more of a timid boy who sought closeness to his mother and grew up very sheltered. Today I'd say I was almost a bit overprotected. My mother put the family under a sort of glass dome and kept the difficult and dark things at bay. Later on, I suffered as a result because, when I suddenly had to cope on my own, I had absolutely no idea how to go about it.

In a recent editorial, you wrote that you suffered from an anxiety disorder as a child. You were afraid of the wind.

I stayed at home for almost a year back then and didn't go to nursery. That was a turning point in my life, and it was an enormous ordeal for my parents when their child suddenly developed this disorder. Fortunately, with the help of a therapist, things turned out well.

Don't worry so much. Things rarely turn out exactly as you imagine them.

What are you afraid of today?

That misfortune might befall our family. Interestingly, I worry less about myself; it's more a concern that my loved ones might not be all right.

Most parents share this fear. How do you deal with it?

The answer to this must not be control, but trust. You cannot plan, control or safeguard everything; you can only hope that things will turn out well. That I can rely on my children and they can rely on me. And, as a father, I can try to set an example by being reliable, committed and trustworthy.

You said earlier that you were a timid child. What sort of adult are you?

I'm the sort of person who usually starts the day in a good mood and looks forward to going to work every morning. But I'm also someone who feels a sense of humility, and who keeps reminding my family: «Hey, we're doing incredibly well; we need to be grateful that we have a roof over our heads that keeps the rain out, that we're all in good health, and that we have each other.»

You have experienced first-hand the two major parenting trends of the last 60 years. As a child, you experienced the «parent-centred» approach, where people would say: «Quiet down, the parents are talking!» And as a father, you've experienced the «child-centred» approach, where the wishes and needs of the children take centre stage. What is your conclusion?

It's a huge source of tension. People do sometimes talk these days about a longing for a new form of parental authority. And I do sometimes wish there was a button I could press and say: «Right, now it's the parents» turn.’ When I come back from a cycle ride and have to sit at the kitchen table in my sweaty clothes, waiting my turn to use the bathroom – where first my daughter and then my son take long showers and get ready to go out – I say, just for a laugh: «Something has gone seriously wrong with our parenting.» The children have a good laugh, but of course their behaviour doesn't change a bit.

Would you like your children to be more obedient?

No, not that, but perhaps a little more visible gratitude, precisely because we fulfil many of their wishes relatively quickly. At the same time, I know that the children owe me nothing. Not making one's love conditional – that is a great art, but of course the most important thing.

And at the same time: can you really love unconditionally? Even «super-parents» sometimes have negative feelings towards their own children. Shouldn't we take these feelings seriously too?

To me, unconditional love doesn't mean that I always think my children are brilliant. When negative feelings arise, I try to take them seriously rather than suppressing them. They don't make me a bad father, but a human one.

If, for whatever reason, you were only allowed to give your children one piece of advice that they should follow when they become parents themselves, what would it be?

Don't worry so much. Things rarely turn out exactly as you imagine them.

We've produced a good issue if the reaction from our readers is: «Wow, that's really helped me.»

Let's talk a little more about your work. Under your leadership, «Fritz+Fränzi» has grown steadily. What is the secret to its success?

We put a great deal of love and care into every single issue. We go to tremendous lengths; we agonise over the topics, the right articles and the best photographs. Perhaps, as a reader, you can sense this and enjoy picking up the magazine.

How do you personally measure success?

We've produced a good issue when the reaction from our readership is: «Gosh, that's really helped me.» In other words, when we manage to tackle topics that are close to our readers’ hearts. We recently ran a piece by an author who wrote about how difficult she finds it with her stepchildren – in fact, that she doesn't really like them. It sparked an incredible number of reactions. Many wrote to say they felt the same way, whilst others sharply criticised the author.

Nik Niethammer in conversation with Mikael Krogerus about parenthood and self-help books.
What is it like to suddenly find yourself out of work at the age of 53? Nik Niethammer wrote a very personal article about this, and people still ask him about it to this day.

Is there a story you've never done but would like to do?

One of the topics we discuss regularly but never actually cover is vaccination. It is undoubtedly an important issue – and yet, inevitably, a section of our readership is immediately and vehemently opposed to it.

How do you explain that?

This is such a highly charged topic. We recently published an article centred on the question of whether parents should give their children a booster jab against chickenpox. The article generated just under 1,000 comments on Facebook, 100 of which we had to delete because they were written in a tone that simply wouldn't do. Another important topic that we've long avoided and which we're finally venturing to tackle in the December issue is faith and religion. I'm really looking forward to that.

In his last interview, Remo Largo said he hadn't achieved nearly enough. That frustrated him. It really made me think.

You've come across a number of memorable characters in *Fritz+Fränzi*. Who has left the biggest impression on you?

We were able to have one of the last conversations with the paediatrician Remo Largo, who has since passed away. He was already very ill at the time. And, sadly, he struck us as being a little embittered.

Why was he bitter?

He told us that he had tried to show how schools ought to be organised today. And that he had achieved far too little in that regard. That frustrated him. And it really gave me food for thought. I think he is an icon when it comes to educational issues; his works can be found on every Swiss bookshelf, and yet he felt that his work had fallen short.

Many journalists have a story that haunts them, one they just can't shake off. What's yours?

In November 1989, as a reporter for *Schweizer Illustrierte*, I covered the opening of the inner-German border in Berlin and stood on the Wall at the Brandenburg Gate that night. To this day, I am proud that I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time.

In 2015, you wrote about your unemployment.

Back then, I described what it means to become unemployed at the age of 53 , to have to apply for jobs , to be turned down, and what it's like to feel as though you're no longer worth anything.

I think that was the most important story you've ever written.

In fact, people still often ask me about it today.

Help yourself, but also make sure that those around you support you.

The text concludes by setting out your four guiding principles. Firstly: Stay hungry, well-informed and connected. Secondly: Be honest with others and with yourself. Thirdly: Try to laugh once a day. Fourthly: Help yourself, otherwise nobody will help you.

That really touches me right now. It was perhaps the most difficult time of my life.

Do these beliefs still ring true for you?

Today I would say: «Help yourself, but also make sure those around you support you.» As for everything else – especially the idea that you should laugh at least once a day and that you should be honest with others, but also with yourself – I still feel exactly the same way.

This text was originally published in German and was automatically translated using artificial intelligence. Please let us know if the text is incorrect or misleading: feedback@fritzundfraenzi.ch