having children – An advice column tackles the hardest question many adults face—whether to have children—pushing back on the idea that you can “find the answer” by endless self-examination. The piece argues that parenthood isn’t something you can predict in advance; it’s a cho
When you’re sitting with parenthood ambivalence, the hardest part isn’t just the decision. It’s the feeling that you’re supposed to know something stable and certain—about a future you can’t actually experience.
The columnist begins with a reader at an age where the question feels unavoidable: “I don’t want children. I do want children.” The reader says they don’t dream of parenthood or spending their days caregiving for a young child. yet they keep returning to the fear that life could become “sad and depressing” if. decades from now. they and their partner are both 70 and childless. They also admit the comfort of the idea that well-adjusted adult children could be part of their old age—while calling that reason misguided and selfish.
Other reasons pull the question in different directions. The reader says they and their partner share good values and want to “bring more people into the world” who might embody them. but that also feels selfish because there’s “no guarantee” a child will embrace those values—and because a parent’s duty is to let the child “flourish as whoever they want to be.”.
They worry about how they would handle a child who rebels against their beliefs. while also recognizing that you “just can’t know what you would be like in that situation until you’re in it.” And they point out the ethical knot at the heart of the problem: how do you decide that a life-altering decision is right—when the person who would be born doesn’t exist yet?.
That tension, the columnist says, is part of a broader cultural pattern. So much advice tells people to look inward for the “answer. ” to audit their souls and excavate childhood trauma. trying to predict whether kids will make them happier or more miserable later. Even the language of certainty can creep in: the answer is treated like something you can discover. like a hidden treasure.
The column then challenges that approach directly, and not gently. It points to an online class called the “Motherhood Clarity™ Course. ” which is described as based on a mantra—“The answers will come because they never left … It’s all within me.”—along with the promise that introspection will eventually yield clarity.
But the columnist sees three problems. First, introspection is an “unbounded search process,” with no way to know when you’ve searched enough. Second. it centers the decision too tightly on the person making it. when bringing a child into the world can’t be only about the chooser’s costs and benefits. Third, it argues that no one is well-positioned to predict what parenthood will do to their happiness. The piece cites philosopher L.A. Paul’s point that you can’t know what it’ll be like until you have a kid—and that the “you” who ends up existing as a parent may be transformed so completely that what makes you happy now won’t be the same as what makes you happy later.
So instead of asking. “Do I know I want this?” the columnist suggests a more outward question: What do you find “awesome. thrilling. and intrinsically valuable about being in the world?” The idea isn’t to pick which values you want to transmit to your child. There’s no guarantee a child will accept them, the columnist says. The point is to make a decision—an existential choice—about whether to have children at all.
The framing shifts from knowledge to meaning. The columnist writes that existentialist philosophers argued life doesn’t come with predefined meaning or fixed answers and that each human chooses how to create meaning. They reference Spanish existentialist Jose Ortega y Gasset. who described the central task of being human as “autofabrication. ” literally self-making: you come up with your own answer. and in doing so. you make yourself.
From there, the column moves into a personal example meant to show how values can become usable rather than theoretical. A decade ago. the columnist says. a friend named Emily sat them down in a park and had them take what turned out to be an “extremely impactful” online quiz. It listed dozens of values—such as friendship. creativity. and growth—and instructed participants to select their top 10. then narrow to top five. The columnist says it felt brutally hard. but revealing. because the number one value that came out was “delight of being. joy.”.
They say they return to that phrasing again and again when making tough decisions. describing it as a core fact about them: they love being alive in the world. The columnist ties that feeling to specific moments—snorkeling with colorful fish. experiencing deep connection with another human being. and staring up at galaxies we’ve barely begun to understand. Choosing to have a child. they write. feels like one of the biggest ways to say “YES to life. ” particularly at a time when many doubt the worthiness of “perpetuating human life” on the planet.
Then comes the columnist’s practical invitation. They ask readers to imagine being their own “Emily” by creating an inventory of values—one of many such inventories available online—selecting their top five. and asking whether having a kid is a compelling way to enact those values or whether another path fits better given a person’s talents and their “physical and psychological needs.”.
The column emphasizes that this can lead to different outcomes even when people share the same top value. It presents a hypothetical set of three women who all rank “personal growth” as their top value. but reach different conclusions: one might see childrearing as a growth path and want to guide a new person’s development; the second might want growth through art-making while being an active auntie; the third might feel the most promising path is to become a nun. All three are described as “completely valid.”.
It also tackles a fear that often sits underneath ambivalence: that without children. someone will miss a singular love—something unlike anything else. The reader’s fear of a “sad and depressing” life at 70 and childless is treated as part of that FOMO. But the columnist argues that parents themselves often report the parent-child bond isn’t magically more meaningful than other kinds of love.
To make that point, the column quotes Anastasia Berg from her and Rachel Wiseman’s book What Are Children For?. Berg writes that while the parent-child relationship is unique. “phenomenologically speaking” it isn’t grand and tremendous or even particularly extraordinary. She continues that loving a child isn’t like nothing you’ve known before. and that what is special about the love isn’t that it’s exotic or mysterious. but that it’s simple and familiar.
From there. the columnist offers a suggestion that lands with a particular kind of realism: if the idea of children is rooted in wanting lovely people to spend time with when you’re old. try meeting that need in other ways first. They mention Rhaina Cohen’s The Other Significant Others. saying some people find deep friendships meet their need for connection without leaving a “child-shaped hole” or a “partner-shaped hole.”.
The underlying argument stays consistent: even if a child is a uniquely good experience. other things can be uniquely good too. The column includes examples—an artist who says nothing compares to painting. someone in political work who says nothing matches the feeling of fighting for justice and winning—and uses them to argue against being pushed around by societal narratives about what the “ultimate good” looks like.
The columnist closes in a way that makes the decision feel less like a gamble and more like a commitment. Instead of trying to control every possible outcome, the goal is to live in line with your values. Values can shift slightly over decades. the column says. but choosing based on them means you’ll at least know you had a solid reason for what you did—no matter how your feelings evolve later.
The piece ends with reading and thinking prompted by this question. The columnist says they revisited an idea from Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard. often called the “father of existentialism”: life can only be understood backward. but it must be lived forward. They also describe rereading a New Yorker article by Joshua Rothman about how people make major decisions. connecting it to philosopher Agnes Callard’s idea that we “aspire” to self-transformation by trying on values we hope one day to possess. The columnist says the idea felt interesting but too complicated. and they raise a direct question: why ground the decision in values they hope to have one day instead of values they already hold dear?.
They add a final note about climate change and having children. saying many people cite it as a reason not to have kids. and that they think that’s misguided. In their view, having a kid can push someone to take “heroic action” on climate change. They point to a piece in Noema Magazine that argues for evoking heroism. not hope. and says the example comes from JRR Tolkien.
The column. originally published on November 3. 2024. and republished as part of an “Your Mileage May Vary” run while Sigal Samuel is on parental leave. leaves readers with one central shift in the question. Not “Can I predict what I’ll feel later?” but “What do I actually value about being alive—and does having a child fit the kind of life I’m trying to live?”.
parenthood ambivalence having children values existentialism decision-making