So how much is Wendi going to get?

Ex-Murdoch files.

News arrived yesterday afternoon that the marriage between an 82-year old billionaire media tycoon and his 44-year old employee-wife (younger than two of his children) has, surprisingly, not worked out. Yes, Rupert Murdoch has filed for divorce from Wendi Deng, who bravely threw herself between her hubbie and a shaving-foam pie, citing "irretrievable breakdown".

Murdoch is worth a mere $12 bn - so how much of that does Deng stand to get? As Murdoch has filed in New York, we may never know - they are tight on the privacy of settlements. If Deng stars wearing diamond-studded solid-gold skirts, you can guess it's quite a lot.

But was he wise to file in New York? As Spear's reported late last year, "The courts of London and New York share reputations as being receptive to large divorce claims." If you look at the five legal cases which have shaped modern English divorce (the fifth of which was only delivered this week), English law definitely favours the poorer party, from using a 50/50 starting point to "piercing the corporate veil". English courts also take all assets into account.

By contrast, Suzanne Kingston and Michael Gouriet of Withers wrote, 'New York courts follow a different approach, identifying property of the parties as being either "marital property" (which generally includes assets earned during marriage) or "separate property." New York courts will "equitably distribute" the "marital property," but not the "separate property" (which generally includes pre-marital assets and inherited assets).

Always innovative, however, New York courts have expanded the traditional notion of "marital property" to include (and have placed very significant values on) various "intangible assets" such as educational degrees and professional licences, as well as business "enterprise value", and certain types of appreciation on "separate property".

So a New York settlement looks like it will have many more boxes to tick, rather than a "simple" pile-up of assets.

Finally, prenups are much longer established in America than in England, where they weren't given legal weight until the case of Radmacher v Granatino in 2010. In fact, they are not binding in England if their terms are felt too unfair (however a judge construes that), so their recent validity is susceptible to undermining.

Their two children will have to be taken into account, too: courts will ensure that they are provided for, even if (as is highly unlikely) they were ignored in a prenup.

It is probably easy to predict that Deng's settlement will be more than sufficient for most, but within that great range of millions-to-billions, there are an awful lot of points a judge might choose to stop at.

Update: Reuters reports on another billionaire tycoon divorce, of Harold Hamm (money from Continental Resources oil co) from Sue Ann. They do not, say Reuters, have a pre-nup, which means his $11 bn fortune is up for grabs. The piece is worth a read to see how things might have looked for the Murdochs.

This story first appeared on Spears magazine

In happier times. Photograph: Getty Images

Josh Spero is the editor of Spear's magazine.

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Just face it, being a parent will never be cool

Traditional parenting terms are being rejected in favour of trendier versions, but it doesn't change the grunt-like nature of the work.

My children call me various things. Mummy. Mum. Poo-Head. One thing they have never called me is mama. This is only to be expected, for I am not cool.

Last year Elisa Strauss reported on the rise of white, middle-class mothers in the US using the term “mama” as “an identity marker, a phrase of distinction, and a way to label the self and designate the group.” Mamas aren’t like mummies or mums (or indeed poo-heads). They’re hip. They’re modern. They’re out there “widen[ing] the horizons of ‘mother,’ without giving up on a mother identity altogether.” And now it’s the turn of the dads.

According to the Daily Beast, the hipster fathers of Brooklyn are asking their children to refer to them as papa. According to one of those interviewed, Justin Underwood, the word “dad” is simply too “bland and drab”:

“There’s no excitement to it, and I feel like the word papa nowadays has so many meanings. We live in an age when fathers are more in touch with their feminine sides and are all right with playing dress-up and putting on makeup with their daughters.”

Underwood describes “dad” as antiquated, whereas “papa” is an “open-minded, liberal term, like dad with a twist” (but evidently not a twist so far that one might consider putting on makeup with one’s sons).

Each to their own, I suppose. Personally I always associate the word “papa” with “Smurf” or “Lazarou.” It does not sound particularly hip to me. Similarly “mama” is a word I cannot hear without thinking of “Bohemian Rhapsody”, hence never without a follow-up “ooo-oo-oo-ooh!” Then again, as a mummy I probably have no idea what I am talking about. If other people think these words are trendy, no doubt they are.

Nonetheless, I am dubious about the potential of such words to transform parenting relationships and identities. In 1975’s Of Woman Born, Adrienne Rich describes how she used to look at her own mother and think “I too shall marry, have children – but not like her. I shall find a way of doing it all differently.” It is, I think, a common sentiment. Rejecting mummy or daddy as an identity, if not as an individual, can feel much the same as rejecting the politics that surrounds gender and parenting. The papas interviewed by The Daily Beast are self-styled feminists, whose hands-on parenting style they wish to differentiate from that of their own fathers. But does a change of title really do that? And even if it does, isn’t this a rather individualistic approach to social change?

There is a part of me that can’t help wondering whether the growing popularity of mama and papa amongst privileged social groups reflects a current preference for changing titles rather than social realities, especially as far as gendered labour is concerned. When I’m changing a nappy, it doesn’t matter at all whether I’m known as Mummy, Mama or God Almighty. I’m still up to my elbows in shit (yes, my baby son is that prolific).

The desire to be known as Papa or Mama lays bare the delusions of new parents. It doesn’t even matter if these titles are cool now. They won’t be soon enough because they’ll be associated with people who do parenting. Because like it or not, parenting is not an identity. It is not something you are, but a position you occupy and a job you do.

I once considered not being called mummy. My partner and I did, briefly, look at the “just get your children to call you by your actual name” approach. On paper it seemed to make sense. If to my sons I am Victoria rather than mummy, then surely they’ll see me as an individual, right? Ha. In practice it felt cold, as though I was trying to set some kind of arbitrary distance between us. And perhaps, as far as my sons are concerned, I shouldn’t be just another person. It is my fault they came into this vale of tears. I owe them, if not anyone else, some degree of non-personhood, a willingness to do things for them that I would not do for others. What I am to them – mummy, mum, mama, whatever one calls it – is not a thing that can be rebranded. It will never be cool because the grunt work of caring never is.

It is not that I do not think we need to change the way in which we parent, but this cannot be achieved by hipster trendsetting alone. Changing how we parent involves changing our most fundamental assumptions about what care work is and how we value the people who do it. And this is change that needs to include all people, even those who go by the old-fashioned titles of mum and dad.

Ultimately, any attempt to remarket parenting as a cool identity smacks of that desperate craving for reinvention that having children instils in a person. The moment you have children you have bumped yourself up the generational ladder. You are no longer the end of your family line. You are – god forbid – at risk of turning into your own parents, the ones who fuck you up, no matter what they do. But you, too, will fuck them up, regardless of whether you do it under the name of daddy, dad or papa. Accept it. Move on (also, you are mortal. Get over it).

Parenting will never be cool. Indeed, humanity will never be cool. We’re all going to get older, more decrepit, closer to death. This is true regardless of whether you do or don’t have kids – but if you do you will always have younger people on hand to remind you of this miserable fact.

Your children might, if you are lucky, grow to respect you, but as far as they are concerned you are the past.  No amount of rebranding is going to solve that. This doesn’t mean we can’t change the way we parent. But as with so much else where gender is concerned, it’s a matter for boring old deeds, not fashionable words.

 

 

 

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.