Broken Homes: A Study of Family Desertion and its Social Treatment

In Short

This book is a pioneering study of "family desertion"—the abandonment of wives and children—written from the perspective of early 20th-century social work. It examines the myriad reasons why men leave, ranging from industrial failures and financial mismanagement to temperamental incompatibility and community influences. By blending diagnostic insight with practical case studies, the book advocates for moving beyond simple legal punishment toward a more nuanced, individualized approach to family reconstruction. It remains a vital document for understanding the evolution of modern case work and the persistent challenges of family stability.

The Story

The narrative of the book follows the progression of a social worker’s evolving philosophy. It begins by acknowledging a "muddling along" period of the past, characterized by charity workers who provided relief only to watch husbands return to squander it. This initial, often frustrating stage gave way to a "disciplinary" era, where the primary response to desertion was the rigid application of law—punishment, extradition, and court mandates. The book argues that neither of these extremes is sufficient.

As the argument deepens, the focus shifts to the "broken man" who hides behind the act of leaving. The reader is introduced to a wide spectrum of deserters: the man who lacks the strength to handle domestic burdens; the man suffering from alcohol-induced derangement; and the man who simply finds himself in a "broken home" created by his own lack of competence and his wife’s inability to maintain a home. The book systematically dismantles the myth that desertion is a simple choice, revealing it instead as the culmination of long-term industrial, emotional, and social friction.

The arc of the investigation then turns to the delicate business of intervention. The author guides the reader through the difficult process of locating the missing, which often involves the co-operation of neighbors, relatives, and even newspaper advertisements. Crucially, the focus remains on the quality of the potential reunion. The author warns that forcing a man back into a home through court orders or empty threats of imprisonment often results in failure. Instead, the "art" of the social worker is found in careful character building—encouraging the husband toward steady work, new hobbies, and church attendance—while simultaneously assessing whether the wife is truly prepared to have him return.

The book concludes by examining the "home-staying non-supporter"—the man who remains physically present but fails to fulfill his duties. Here, the challenge is different; familiarity has bred contempt, and the social worker must fight the urge to write the man off as a lost cause. Through various case histories, the book illustrates that even seemingly hopeless cases can be salvaged with persistent, individualized effort. The goal is never merely to patch over a fracture, but to resolve the underlying lack of support and communication that invited the desertion in the first place. The final message is one of cautious optimism: with the right mix of legal support and patient social guidance, many families can be restored, though the process is arduous, iterative, and never governed by simple, universal rules.

How It Unfolds

The shift in philosophy The book begins by tracing the transition from early, ineffective attempts at charity to a more rigorous, though sometimes overly punitive, reliance on the law. It establishes that legal action alone, while necessary, often fails to address the underlying human instability of the deserter.

The anatomy of a departure The middle chapters offer a detailed typology of the deserter, analyzing factors like personal competence, community standards, and even the influence of "bedroom farces" or popular media on the perception of marriage. This section serves as a diagnostic tool, teaching the reader how to spot the "danger signals" of an impending breakup.

The search and the interview The text moves into the practical logistics of tracing missing men, utilizing everything from the National Desertion Bureau’s "Gallery of Missing Husbands" to private correspondence. It highlights the importance of the initial interview, where the social worker must set aside judgment to truly understand the man’s perspective.

The delicate process of reunion The final section addresses the complex, often messy reality of reconciling a couple. By examining successes and failures in court-mandated reunions, the book emphasizes that "the kind of reconciliation that lasts is the one that is effected with some difficulty to the man."

The People

The book features a cast of archetypes that bring its clinical focus to life. The Deserter is often a man "bankrupt for the time being in health, hopes, or prospects," who lacks the willpower to manage his life and chooses to cut his way out of difficulties at a single stroke. He is rarely a villain in the traditional sense, but rather an inarticulate, overwhelmed figure. The Wife is examined as a participant in the failure; the book notes that her own lack of skill, laziness, or "morbid nature" can create the very environment that encourages her husband to leave. The Social Worker acts as the central mediator. She is the one who must remain "patient, intelligent, and resourceful," navigating the moods of both spouses while resisting the urge to simply force them together. She is the observer who learns when to be persistent and, just as importantly, when to do nothing at all. These figures are not static; they change through the process of intervention, with the most successful cases showing a "slow and careful character rebuilding" where both parties are gradually steered toward more stable, wholesome activities.

In Its Own Voice

"Before the deserter there was a broken man," said a district secretary who has had conspicuous success in dealing with such men.

This is the author’s central thesis on the nature of the husband who chooses to leave his family.

"I made good money and I never opened my pay envelope on her," said he, "but the week's wages was always gone by Thursday."

This quote captures the recurring conflict over family finances that often precedes the final, desperate act of desertion.

"The kind of reconciliation that lasts is the one that is effected with some difficulty to the man," its secretary remarked.

The author uses this observation to argue against the idea that a quick or easy return is ever a true, lasting solution for a broken marriage.

What It's Really About

At its heart, this book is an argument for the primacy of individual character over systemic punishment. It asks: how much can a community reasonably expect from a broken individual, and how can society provide the scaffolding necessary to hold a crumbling family together? The author questions the efficacy of the law when it acts without understanding, suggesting that true social progress in the home is found in the slow, painstaking work of changing habits and expectations. It is a meditation on the fragility of the domestic bond and the thin line between a functioning household and one that, under enough pressure, simply dissolves. It treats marriage as a fragile social construct that requires constant, intentional maintenance rather than a static legal status.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of social services, sociology, or the evolution of domestic law will find this an essential, if period-bound, primary source. The prose is warm and remarkably precise, avoiding the coldness often found in modern administrative texts. You will encounter the sincere, if occasionally dated, prejudices of 1919 regarding nationality and class, which provides a fascinating window into the moral landscape of the era.

The book is rewarding because it refuses to offer easy answers. While its focus on 1910s-era methods—such as newspaper advertisements for missing husbands or the specific cultural dynamics of immigration—may feel distant, the psychological profiles of the "deserter" and the "non-supporter" remain startlingly recognizable. It is not a quick read; the detailed indexing and the dry, meticulous reporting of court cases demand patience. However, the experience of reading it is akin to walking through an old, well-maintained archive; you come away with a profound sense of the effort required to mend the smallest, most private human failures. What stays with you is the author's unwavering belief that, even in the most "hopeless" cases of non-support, there is always the potential for a quiet, steady awakening.