In earlier days, in a simpler world, Dr. Spock was enough. Parents without resident grannies could look up chickenpox and colic, and no one bothered about self-esteem analysis and attention-deficit disorder medication. As societal norms diverge, the industry of parenting books is burgeoning – modern titles are frequently written by parents instead of pediatricians, and have less to do with colic than with redefining parenting roles in a changing world.

Paul Kropp’s I’ll Be the Parent, You Be the Kid is an attempt to give parents a firmer job description. The theme is similar to other recent guilt-reduction titles such as Elizabeth Fishel’s I Swore I’d Never Do That, which Kropp recommends. He discusses five “hot button” topics: discipline and spanking, sibling rivalry, daycare, television, and “the myth of quality time,” and techniques to handle these problems, such as the family conference. The format interlaces anecdotes about his own family and friends with advice from Penelope Leach, Burton White, and other gurus. The small bibliography is supplemented with a useful discussion of Canadian and American research on each theme. The book is a quick read with lots of mnemonic lists: “Five important things dads provide besides cash,” “How to spot a praise-junkie kid,” “Five ways to improve kids’ attention span without Ritalin.”

The tone is positive, calming, and reassuring. It’s okay to make rules, but listen to your kids and be fair. There are no ideal parents “but most of us do a pretty-darn-good job.” The families described are clearly nuclear, muddling along in middle class conundrums, and the advice reflects this population: “Watch the computer. If you have a teenage boy, he will be downloading pornography when you’re not around.” There is a substantial analysis of parenting models from 1950s television, but no treatment of today’s evolution from The Simpsons to South Park.

The book succeeds in reducing controversial topics to soothing homilies, but reductionism inevitably produces conflicting advice. Though raising bright children means “talking to them as intelligent beings and enjoying their uniqueness,” children also need parents who are as “intentionally” dull as Ward Cleaver. “When parents become too interesting we can overwhelm our kids and really interfere with their growing up…intense artistic folks…tend to produce unhappy and maladjusted children.” Kropp acknowledges group daycare may have great benefits, but feels “runny noses, various infections and persistent flus are [the kids’] way of voting two small thumbs down.” Concerned about mother-led single parent families, he asserts: “there are aspects of caring, love and protection that a father feels for a daughter that a mother will never know.” If you agree with the opinions, you’ll enjoy the stories.

Non-standard family life is of great interest to another journalist parent. At 45, Marlene Webber adopted a mixed-race Hispanic/ African-American boy. Caught up in bureaucracy, she had no time to examine “the philosophy or modus operandi” of the adoption process. As If Kids Mattered resulted from her attempt to create the resource she wished had been available when she entered the world of adoption.

Prospective adoptive parents will bless her research and dedication. An afterword by Sandra Scarth, founder and former executive director of Child Welfare League of Canada, suggests her book should be read by all social workers, politicians, and bureaucrats responsible for child welfare planning.

Webber interviewed 37 families in 10 cities about their adoption experiences, including “traditional” as well as “newfangled” households consisting of single parents, gays and lesbians, disabled parents, and those with marginal incomes. She discovered, as expected, that the system reflects a built-in bias against “A-Okay newborns” going to any but young, affluent, traditional households.

The most difficult section of Webber’s study involves transracial adoption. Wading into this explosive topic on both sides of the border, she examines the American concern about black children in white families, and the uniquely Canadian topic of native adoptions. There is a discussion of open adoptions (when birth parents participate), foster care, and the “myth” of hard-to-place or problem kids. Webber examines the involvement of both government and organized crime in baby-brokering. The importance of international adoption to Third World economies is significant (estimated at $5-million in Guatemala, $20-million in Korea), and the author gives a fair assessment of the political ramifications of international adoption fuelled by economic disparity, where “the world is my market” means “the world is my womb.” The book is so packed with research, interviews, trend analysis, and a call to arms there is little room for an examination of the motivations of prospective adoptive parents, who are clearly assumed to be solely interested in the child’s welfare.

Webber’s goal is to change the realities behind the “moral-minded dustcollectors” such as the UN Declaration on Children’s Rights, so every child has “the basic toolbox of life: a loving family for keeps.” This is an important book, from a passionate and eloquent author. It will generate discussion and controversy. Let’s hope it also moves the topic higher up on the political agenda, where the systemic changes so clearly articulated may finally occur.