How times change

There is so much more to being a godparent than just turning up to the christening

This week, Prince Louis’s christening has got us thinking about what it means to be a godparent in 2018, which is now total dedication to the special relationship.

Our own godparents knew exactly what was required of them: turn up to the christening. Be amusing friends (to the parents). Send Christmas presents, maybe a birthday present, until the child turns 18 or 21 (whereas now you’re expected to cough up a Tiffany bracelet or a hip flask).

Being a godparent was all about awarding your best mates the gold star of friendship. It was a bonus if the godparent knew what the godchild looked like, and vice versa, but it wasn’t essential.

The point of godparents was making sure your parents had fun people to hang out with at your christening and confirmation, or just at their parties. Sometimes, apparently, there was an element of This Person Could Be Useful for Jobs and Contacts in the Future, but not in my experience. Really it was a circle of trust award for parents’ mates, some of whom were about as qualified for the job as Rasputin, and that worked just fine for everyone.

Now, godparenting has gone the way of parenting. On top of the basic requirements, you are expected to form a close bond with your godchild and have a lasting impact on their life. You’re rated on the quality of your interactions, their frequency (six times a year minimum), and whether or not your relationship involves enough effort, and original input. It’s a test. If they are not showing off about you at school, and asking for you at bath time, you are failing.

Not only are you expected to know that Ludo plays the guitar, and loves Neil Young, but you are taking him to his first gig, and if you’re doing your job right by 2018 standards, that’ll be a Neil Young concert. In Canada.

The modern godparent knows their godchild is running a mini-marathon (because you are sponsoring them). Are you aware that god-daughter Ellie is vegan and gluten intolerant? Yes you most certainly are, because Ellie is staying with you for a month while she does work experience at a publishing house (arranged by you) and you’re preparing her a lunch every day, and driving her there … and sometimes back.

Your own children (or stepchildren) may be lucky to get five minutes face time in a week. You have no idea what they are up to, or what they’re doing about their spot outbreak (they won’t discuss it) but your godchildren – quite a different matter.

You were texting congratulations on their GCSE results. You’re sending them money for travelling. And one on one, over cocktails or burgers, you’ve covered the cons of downstairs hair removal, the importance of the HPV vaccine, the value of a law conversion, and how to make a Negroni.

That’s the idea anyway. That is what is expected, no less, and the reality is a lot of godparents are stepping up in the manner of Elton John meets JK Rowling. Meanwhile the rest of us are very much falling short – and doing as our own godparents did – the bare minimum. We are in the category of godparent now known as “We should have asked Mary” – absolutely useless, and guaranteed not to remember how old they are, never mind seeing them in Bugsy Malone.

But then again we didn’t know what was expected of us. School plays? Birthday parties? Art exhibitions? Graduations? It turns out godchildren are like your own children, only you have to be there for all the important events and never shout at them. Don’t say you weren’t warned, van Cutsem.

If they are not showing off about you at school and asking for you at bath time, you are failing