(Kurt Vonnegut)

I'd been intending to get a vasectomy for perhaps ten years, and known I didn't want to procreate for a lot longer. And a month ago I finally got it done.

Back when I was eighteen (or younger) and thinking about this, I figured that I might change my mind. But it's been sixteen years and that has not happened. At this point, I'd be somewhat untrusting of myself if my opinion did change.

Why not?

My motivation was simple - I have no positive desire to have children. There are all sorts of practical and ethical reasons which follow, but that one is primary and decisive.

I assume most people's motivation to procreate, or not, isn't really the result of much sincere thought. For the most part our desires just pop into our heads, and then our minds will serve up, or compel us to seek out, some appropriate justification of them. I can't otherwise explain how people who are very much aware of the state of the world generate enough cognitive dissonance to go through with childbearing. Though I'd do well to remember that I may well have gone through an inverted experience of that same process, and that I'm autistic, when considering this.

But beyond that...

Is it ethical to procreate, at all?

Antinatalism feels like a cringe philosophy, in the same way that nihilism does. But it does seem harder to refute.

While it's interesting stuff, I don't agree with Zapffe. I'm tempted to contend that the spectrum of human experience is the point. In the struggle and pain lies the point of it ^[1]. My refutation is principally spiritual - in particular, the Dharma recognises (and addresses) this condition with remarkable incisiveness.

And there's certainly an emotional response - this feels like an unnecessarily miserable manner in which to respond to the void. For me it's a parallel of nihilism (life is meaningless 🥺) vs. absurdism (life is meaningless 😎).

Happily I don't actually need to arrive at a position on this. It can remain an intellectual curiousity for me.

Is it ethical to procreate now?

The state of the climate is very fucked. Realistically, we've already blasted through the 1.5c Paris Agreement threshold^[2]. Things are truly going wild lately, outside of the realm of predictability by politically-acceptable models^[3], perhaps due to their poor accounting for feedback loops. While we have stopped tracking RCP 8.5, the IPCC's "worst case" scenario, in terms of emissions and atmospheric CO₂, we still appear to be surpassing its predicted atmospheric CO₂e (CO₂ equivalent) concentrations.

This highlights how limited our climate models are. Emissions mean little in and of themselves - it's atmospheric CO₂e that counts^[4]. And, while emissions have plateaued, atmospheric CO₂ (alone) continues to break records^[5], standing at 424 PPM at time of writing. Accounting in terms of CO₂e brings us to a 2023 figure of 534 PPM^[6].

And, climate change is only part of the problem. There's also massive wildlife loss, soil degradation, forever chemicals... I'm thinking of writing a separate post about this stuff, but there's plenty of doomerposting around and it suffices here to say that it seems very reasonable to expect increasing global instability and drastic declines in (even) Western standards of living within a few decades. I expect to live to see that. For young people, let alone children, it seems to be guaranteed.

Parenting in late stage capitalism

One aspect of the intensifying contradictions of capitalism is that, in its rapacity for value extraction, it is depressing birth rates. This is the principal reason that Western countries need immigration - to keep the pyramid scheme going. Our economies are predicated on infinite growth, with an ever-increasing tax base providing growth and funding the pensions of previous generations.

One of the expressions of this tendency is the normalisation of households with two working parents. This would have been quite abnormal only a few decades ago. I was lucky enough to have been raised by a stay-at-home parent, and this biases me - because, I wonder what the point of having a child is if you're economically coerced to bundle them off to daycare as soon as possible so that you can return to work. It feels like a poisoning of the experience of parenting, and of being parented.

There's a tendency to perceive women entering the workplace as a victory for gender equality. But, quite transparently, it was really a smokescreen for intensifying the extraction of value. A loss to the working class, necessited by structural economic changes (stagnating real wages, rising housing costs, the decline of union power). If it weren't, we'd have seen the normalisation of stay-at-home fathering rather than any significant change in employment levels. Capital has been using identity politics as a means of propagandising its intensifying contradictions for decades - that is, marketing exploitation as liberation.

"Selfish" practical reasons

First, I simply don't think I have the capacity for parenting. Many autistic people would and do make great parents, but I don't think that applies to me. Perhaps I could do it to a decent standard (I would try very hard to), but that seems unlikely - it'd ruin me, and I'd resent it.

Second, I want to retain my autonomy. Relating to the above, it's hard enough for me to function acceptably even with my normal (low) level of obligations.

Third, money. This also relates to retaining autonomy, because I can use the money I'd otherwise spend on childrearing to "buy" myself the ability to work less. Effectively, I am buying time.

Vasectomy experience and feelings

The experience was actually great. As relaxed as it reasonably could have been. Everyone who dealt with me was friendly, knowledgable, and supportive. This included asking about any accommodations that might be helpful - which was just going to be wearing earplugs/headphones, but I decided against that as the sounds were fine and there was someone there to distract me with conversation. Which was, surprisingly to me, incredibly effective.

The operation was obviously not pleasant, but also surprisingly mildly unpleasant. Some slight wincing which warranted a bit of additional anaesthesia. But the surgeon certainly knew what he was doing, as he presumably bangs these out all day, every day (he had 15 scheduled that day alone).

I'd been having last minute nerves about the finality of it the preceding day, but think that was quite natural, and partially anxiety over actually undergoing the operation "bleeding over". Afterwards I felt great, quite buoyant.

It's so affirming to have finally done it. Very happy with my perfectly ruined balls.