FAFO Parenting and the American Soul: Natural Consequences, Narcissism, and the Myth of the Infallible Parent

Saturday, April 5, 2025

Somewhere in the ruins of the post-pandemic American culture, a phrase emerged with the blunt force of a barstool blurt:

“F* Around and Find Out.”

FAFO. It’s not a method. It’s a vibe. A shrug.

A quiet rebellion against the modern religion of child-proofed perfection.

At first glance, FAFO parenting looks like laissez-faire parenting in a trucker hat.

But beneath the meme is something older and stranger: a raw, uncoddled invitation to let reality take the wheel.

The truth is, FAFO parenting is more than just a trend.

It’s a cultural counterweight.

A quiet philosophical swerve away from the narcissistic distortions of modern American child-rearing—and, perhaps, toward something more ancient and sane.

American Parenting and the Cult of Control

Let’s start here: American parenting has a control problem. More specifically, it has a narcissism of control problem.

Ever since the rise of attachment parenting in the 1990s (remember The Baby Book?), there’s been a steady cultural drift toward parental omnipotence. Parents were told, subtly and not-so-subtly, that their children's emotional outcomes rested entirely on their ability to anticipate, soothe, structure, enrich, and narrate everything.

A skinned knee was no longer a normal part of life—it was a failure of foresight. A tantrum in Target? A reflection of your unresolved trauma.

The result? A generation of parents obsessed with optimization—and a generation of children slowly suffocating under the weight of parental self-image.

FAFO Parenting as Narcissism Detox

FAFO parenting, in contrast, is an antidote to this inflated parental ego. It begins with a deeply un-American idea:

“I am not the center of my child’s universe. Reality is.”

This idea is radical in a culture where children are often treated as brand extensions, lifestyle accessories, or psychological barometers for adult wellness. FAFO parenting says: “Let them fail. Let them learn. Let me not be the hero in every story.”

It’s a philosophical pivot from mirroring (i.e., “My child is a reflection of me”) to modeling (“My child is their own being; Hopefully, I’ll show them how to live with courage”).

This shift challenges the narcissistic undercurrent of American parenting—the fantasy that perfect parenting produces perfect children, and that our children’s choices are personal validations or indictments of our worth. It’s a trend worth defending in the therapeutic office.

Narcissism, Fragility, and the Overprotected Child

Let’s not mince words: the overparented child is often the emotionally fragile child.

Jean Twenge’s work on narcissism and generational trends notes that overpraise, inflated self-esteem, and a lack of real-world consequence contribute to the fragile egos of emerging adults (Twenge & Campbell, 2009).

FAFO parenting, by contrast, reintroduces “anti-fragility”—the notion that systems (and psyches) grow stronger through manageable stress (2018). The scraped knee, the forgotten lunch, the botched science project—these are the grit vitamins of childhood.

In this light, FAFO is not just practical—it’s moral.

It prepares children to enter a world that does not revolve around their feelings. A world that doesn’t say “good job” for breathing.

A world where the stove is still hot, even if your mom has a doctorate in gentle parenting.

The American Myth of the Perfect Parent

The rise of FAFO also exposes the dark mythology behind “intensive parenting”—the belief that we must engineer ideal children through curated environments, organic snacks, and emotional coaching worthy of a licensed therapist.

This myth is fed by a consumer culture that profits from parental anxiety (see: sleep consultants, toddler life coaches, and $400 Montessori toys). But it’s also spiritual. It feeds the American illusion that with enough effort, failure is avoidable.

FAFO laughs at that. FAFO says: “Oh, you’re sure as sh*t gonna fail. You’re supposed to. That’s how you grow.” It replaces the gospel of control with a messier, more ancient faith: reality is a better teacher than we are.

The Political Undercurrent: Freedom vs. Safety

FAFO parenting also rides the wave of a broader cultural tension in America: the eternal tug-of-war between freedom and safety.

Since Columbine, since 9/11, since Sandy Hook—American childhood has been wrapped in bubble wrap and surveillance.

We lock playgrounds. We ban monkey bars. We arrest moms who let their kids walk to the park alone. All in the name of “safety.”

But as a survivor of serious childhood trauma I can assure you that pursuit of safety, like sugar, can be compellingly addictive.

And when overused, it rots the very thing it claims to protect.

FAFO parents—often derided as “neglectful” by their critics—are actually restoring the balance.

They say: “Some risk is essential. Some suffering is sacred. Let your kid forget their water bottle. Let them climb the fu*king tree.”

In doing so, they are not anti-safety.

They are pro-agency.

They are reviving the ancient idea that humans, even small ones, learn through risk, consequence, and reflection—not just reminders and regulations.

What FAFO Reveals About the Future of Parenting

Here’s the strange truth: FAFO parenting is both new and old. It’s postmodern grit wrapped in ancient stoicism.

It’s Seneca with a diaper bag. It is not indifferent. It is not cruel. It is simply unafraid of discomfort.

And that, gentle reader, is its cultural power.

In a country where parenting has become performance, where childhood is curated, and where selfhood is often mistaken for spotlight—FAFO is refreshingly ordinary. It refuses to inflate children into gods or parents into saviors.

It simply says: Go ahead. Try it. Let’s see what happens.

A Quiet Return to Limits, Humility, and Human Scale

In the final analysis, FAFO parenting is less about punishment and more about proportion.

It is a return to limits. It’s an acknowledgment that we are not all-powerful, that our children are not fragile glass, and that reality is not the enemy.

It invites humility: we do not know everything.

It invites trust: our children are not helpless.

And it invites humor: they’re going to screw up—and so are we.

But that’s life. And as any seasoned FAFO parent knows, it’s best to find that out early.

Be Well, Stay Kind, and Godspeed.

REFERENCES:

Haidt, J., & Lukianoff, G. (2018). The Coddling of the American Mind: How Good Intentions and Bad Ideas Are Setting Up a Generation for Failure. Penguin Press.

Twenge, J. M., & Campbell, W. K. (2009). The Narcissism Epidemic: Living in the Age of Entitlement. Atria Books.

Bowlby, J. (1969). Attachment and Loss: Vol. 1. Attachment. Basic Books.

Kolb, D. A. (1984). Experiential learning: Experience as the source of learning and development. Prentice Hall.

Baumrind, D. (1971). Current patterns of parental authority. Developmental Psychology Monograph, 4(1, Pt.2), 1–103.