You may have seen the new John Lewis Christmas advert on one of your screens recently. Frankly, it’s been hard to avoid it, but that’s not a bad thing as it’s rather touching especially if, like me, you’re a father to a son.

In the ad, we see dad opening up a Christmas present from his teenage son, a vinyl copy of Where Love Lives, the 90s dance hit by Alison Limerick. As the stylus hits the record, our ears are treated to that nostalgic crackle followed by the distinctive opening piano riff. 

Through dad’s eyes, we’re transported to a 90s club dancefloor where he does some embarrassing dad dancing, only to see his son watching him from across the room. And then we’re back in the living room where his son has joined him, and dad has a flashback to holding this big hunk of a teen when he was a baby, having fun with him as a toddler, bonding with him, most likely in a way he hasn’t been able to for a while. Until now. 

Suddenly, he pulls his son towards him for an embrace, as if to thank him for this genuinely thoughtful gift that transported him back to a different time of his life.

It's a beautiful moment.

“If you can’t find the words, find the gift,” we’re then told as those clever ad folk go in for the kill, right when we’re feeling at our most vulnerable.

Personally, I can’t watch the end of the ad without getting a bit teary, possibly because I’m a bit soppy, but also because it bears an uncanny resemblance to something that happened just a few months ago – not in a John Lewis ad, but in my actual life.

On Father’s Day, my son bought me a vinyl copy of The Joshua Tree by U2, one of my favourite albums. He knew I’d love it, and (I think) he wanted to express his love for me with this thoughtful gift. He was way ahead of the John Lewis Christmas ad, and I’ve got half a mind to sue on his behalf.

Unlike the commercial, I didn’t need to play the record to feel the powerful communication behind the gift. I was blown away by the idea and the way he’d connected with me, before it got anywhere near my record player.

And unlike the ad, in which after the embrace between father and son there’s an awkward moment during which the father does some more dad dancing and turns the whole thing into a bit of a joke, I was able to articulate to him what the gift meant to me. And hug my son as well, of course.

One night, admittedly quite a while after Father’s Day, I found the time to sit down with my son and listen to the record together. I talked to him about how much I loved this album, what I was doing when I first heard it, my experiences of seeing it performed live since then. It didn't really matter what I said, but what mattered more was that we (hopefully) shared something beyond just a hug to say thanks for the gift.

I shared some experiences and maybe, in the process, managed to put another building block in place so that we’re able to continue talking to each other openly like that, even if there is a huge generational gap between us.

So when I saw the John Lewis ad, my question to them, and to all of us fathers and sons is: why can't we find the words and the gift? It doesn’t have to just be the gift!

I think it’s particularly important right now for us all to try to find the words. Earlier this year, the entire world (well, my entire world) seemed to be talking about the Netflix global smash hit Adolescence, a drama about the extreme dangers of toxic masculinity and the manosphere.

One of the many agreed-upon learnings from this very tough watch was the importance of dialogue between adolescent boys and their parents, particularly with their fathers. Male role models have seemingly never been more important.

At an age where teens typically avoid spending time or talking with mum and dad, it's very hard to establish this kind of communication, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try.

Psychotherapy is so often about mums. Freud was absolutely obsessed with them. But times have changed, and dads have changed. We need to step up to the plate because, most worryingly, sons have also changed.

If the answer to losing our sons to the dangers of the manosphere and goodness knows what else, is for fathers to connect with them and show them an alternative role model, then let's not just have a heartwarming hug, let's also engage. 

Let's find the words.