Is it wrong to bring a child into our warming world?

I have always loved babies and children. I babysat in high school and college, and continue to do so even now as a full-time engineer. My fiancé was attracted to me because of how much he appreciated my talent and love for children. We have many nieces, nephews and nieces that we love but don’t see very often. We’ve also always been clear to each other that we would try to have biological children shortly after getting married.

That said, my fiancée and I, who are both Generation Z, care deeply about the planet and watch with pain as scientists predict that the Earth will warm 1.5 degrees Celsius by 2030. Is it selfish to have children who know full well that they will face a lower quality of life due to the climate crisis and its many consequences, such as increased natural disasters, food shortages, greater social inequality and unrest?

We realize that having a child adds to our carbon footprint, but as parents, we would do our best to foster an eco-friendly household and teach our children how to navigate life sustainably. My fiancé says that because we are privileged as two working engineers in the United States, we can provide enough financial support to prevent our children from bearing the brunt of climate change damage. Is it OK to use this privilege? — April

From the ethicist:

Here are two questions we often ask about an action. First, what difference would it make? Second, what would happen if everyone did it? Both raise important considerations, but they can point in opposite directions. The first question asks us to assess the specific consequences of an action. The second question asks us (as Kant would say) to “generalize the maxim” – to determine whether the rule that guides your action is one that everyone should follow. (I will not enter into the debates of philosophers on how to specify these maxims.) Suppose someone puts a Walgreens ChapStick in his pocket and asks, What difference does it make? One answer is that if everyone shoplifted at will, the shopping system would collapse.

There is no such clash in answering those questions when it comes to having at least one child. The marginal effect of adding a few people to a planet of about eight billion people is negligible. (A recent paper, by a group of environmental and economic researchers, projects that by the end of the century, the world’s population could be smaller than it is today – though that’s just one model.) And if everyone stopped having babies, the effect wouldn’t be to help humanity, but to put an end to it.

I’m not one of those people who will encourage you to imagine giving birth to a child who invents a solution to the climate crisis. (What are the odds?) Still, it’s realistic to think that children raised with a sense of responsibility—in personal and collective ways—could be part of the solution that will ensure human survival on a livable planet. guaranteed by adjustment, resilience and softening.

The key question is probably whether you can give your offspring a good prospect of a decent life. The climate crisis is at play here not because your children are contributing to it, but because they may be bearing the brunt of it. It sounds like you have already formed the judgment that your children would be fine, provided with the necessary resources. That, as you acknowledge, is a privilege in our world. But the right response is not to reduce the number of children who have that privilege, but to work – together – towards a situation where every other child on the planet does too.

Readers respond

Last week’s question came from a reader who had cut off contact with his father after having a horrible relationship with him for years. They asked: “I wonder what I will do and feel when my elderly father dies. I don’t even know who would arrange his funeral, etc. What do I ethically owe to a parent I don’t interact with, don’t respect, and never want to see again?”

In his response, the ethicist noted, “Some people feel that just because someone was your biological parent means you owe them something. After all, you owe them your existence. … I admit there is an argument for arranging your father’s funeral, perhaps in recognition of the part he played in your life, and perhaps as a minimal act of gratitude for your existence. Other than that he doesn’t have much to do with you.’ (Reread the full question and answer here.)

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Yes, there is an argument that hosting an estranged parent’s funeral is a minimal act of gratitude for one’s existence. This can even cause some closure. However, this can be detrimental to one’s mental health, especially in cases of PTSD. A child’s needs far outweigh gratitude for being born. — Kathy K

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I have paid and arranged my estranged mother’s funeral. It was painful, but it provided a closure I didn’t know I needed. It also made me proud that I could be better than them and do something nice. Funerals are for the living. What can you live with? — Ashley

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As a certified funeral director for the past 28 years in my state (Wisconsin) you are the immediate family and therefore the person the funeral home will work with to arrange your father’s funeral. If you don’t want to do that – and I can empathize with your feelings that you don’t want to – do your father the favor of explaining that to him so he can fill out the necessary paperwork to have someone else perform those duties . — David

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We owe no gratitude because they were born to parents who failed to meet our emotional and other needs—needs they had an ethical obligation to meet. Adult children should stop feeling guilty about something they had no control over. Kudos to the letter writer for moving on and seeing her father for who he was. — Jul

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To ask the question “What should I do?” recognizes in this case the existence of a persistent sense of some kind of obligation. See it’s a chance to close these painful memories. Any benefit of attending or planning a funeral for an abusive, absent, or downright awful parent accrues to you and not the deceased. Simply put, you do it for yourself. —Richard