Hear, hear Windows. My mother, now in her 70s, grew up in a deeply religious, patriarchal society, left school at 12 and worked essentially as a live-in servant until she married my father at 21, an extremely timid, conformist woman with no education, independent life experience, from the bottom of the class ladder, who married into a household of men (my father lived with his father, brother and great uncle) for whom she housekept through seven pregnancies on a shoestring.
It is hardly surprising that it never occurred to her not to take her husband’s name, just as it never occurred to her to protest about the marriage bar, being churched, the lack of availability of a means to prevent pregnancy etc.
I, on the other hand, have had a very different life. It would be far less excusable if I witlessly took DH’s name, or gave it to our child, who has both.