Is It Wrong to Bring a Child Into This World? - Part II

Introduction

As I described in my last post, I am at the time of life when some of my friends have kids of child-rearing age, and once in a while I’ll hear one say, whether quoting their kids or expressing their own sentiment or both, “It just seems wrong to bring a child into this world.” Notwithstanding my complete respect for those who choose not to procreate, this notion riles me up.

I did some research to make sure the “just seems wrong” argument isn’t merely a fringe thing. And as I mentioned last week, it turns out that a large Pew survey found that a lot of people hold this view. In fact, 38% of respondents aged 18-49 cited “concerns about the state of the world, other than the environment” as a main reason they don’t want kids, and 26% cited “concerns about the environment.” My research also turned up, again and again, the “antinatalist” movement that holds that it’s always wrong, from an ethical perspective, to bring a child into the world, regardless of circumstance.

Last week, after providing some background on how overpopulation isn’t the bugaboo we all thought it was, I analyzed the environmental and ethical perspectives of the “is it wrong” question. In this post I will take on the “concerns about the state of the world” position, which is the one that vexes me the most.

Before we begin…

Yes, this post is a polemic, like last week’s. My ideal audience is anybody who googles “Is it wrong to bring a child into this world?” and believes, or at least suspects, that it is. But I’m not here to put down anyone who believes this, or is beginning to; after all, there’s no shortage of current events to be worried about. Meanwhile, I’m also at the age where some friends and family are starting to fantasize about grandchildren, and aren’t always subtle about pressuring their adult children to get going.

I am totally fine with those who, for personal reasons, just don’t want kids. And that’s a lot of them: it’s the number one reason given by respondents to the Pew poll, in the 18-49 age group, for opting out. Here are the top five:

1. Just don’t want to – 57%
2. Want to focus on other things – 44%
3. Concerns about the state of the world – 38%
4. Can’t afford to raise a child – 36%
5. Concerns about the environment – 26%

If a person is being challenged about not procreating and cites the first, second, or fourth reason, he or she is opening the door to a debate about his or her priorities, which could be unpleasant—I’ve witnessed and even fielded accusations of selfishness (before I had kids, obviously). This is truly offensive, and I can appreciate the temptation to advance a more principled position—and take the fight to the other person’s turf—by citing the state of the world. And I can imagine a parent of my generation hearing this concern from his or her grown-up offspring, and accepting the negative perspective without kicking the tires very hard. But what if that offspring is advancing the idea tentatively—and maybe even hoping, on some level, to hear it refuted?

What a shame it would be succumb to anxiety, and actually conclude it’s wrong in principle to procreate right now … especially when this position is pure nonsense. In this post I will argue that a) now is not a historically bad time to bring a child into the world, and b) barring a zombie apocalypse, Terminator-style AI takeover, or nuclear winter, it’s never a bad time to bring a child into the world.

Our world is not that bad

To begin with, rumors of the demise of freedom, democracy, human rights, safety, and economic opportunity are greatly exaggerated. How can I so smugly state this? Because they’ve always been exaggerated. As I’ve described before in these pages, humans have a built-in, evolutionarily encoded impulse to focus on the negative. Hans Rosling, a Swedish physician and statistician, examined this in his excellent book Factfulness: Ten Reasons We’re Wrong About the World—and Why Things Are Better Than You Think. This book explains why a vast range of people—including scientists, executives of multinational companies, journalists, medical researchers, attendees of the Davos World Economic Forum, and others—have historically done really poorly on a multiple-choice test about the state of the world. In fact, people do worse than if they guessed at random; as Rosling explains, they’re “systematically wrong.” Out of nearly 12,000 people tested in 14 countries in 2017, “every group of people … thinks the world is more frightening, more violent, and more hopeless—in short, more dramatic—than it really is.” I myself took this quiz, years ago, and got like a 3 out of 13. I hadn’t thought I was that ignorant or that negative, but that’s kind of how cognitive bias works. But wait—don’t leave! This doesn’t mean I’m an idiot who doesn’t deserve your attention: the average score across those 12,000 people was a mere 2.

This bias toward negativity is exacerbated, Rosling explains, by “selective reporting by journalists and activists”—which accentuates the negative to create a sense of urgency. (Read this, quick! Donate now!) Meanwhile, Rosling points out, people may feel that it’s heartless to acknowledge that the world is improving when there is still so much wrong with it. Fair enough, but it’s also heartless to be complicit with the rabble-rousing algorithms designed to make people as anxious as possible.

Not only is the world not that bad, but it’s almost certainly in better shape now than when you were born. “What?!” you may ask. “How can you assert that when you don’t even know me, so you don’t even know when I was born?” The answer is: because the world has been improving all along, so my assertion is true no matter how old you are.

To support this audacious claim, I’m going to compare 2026 to three historical snapshots: the birth years of my mother-in-law, of myself, of and my first child. Three sequential generations. You’re going to laugh at how much better things are for the kid lucky enough to be born today.

1932 — The year of my mother-in-law’s birth

I chose the birth year of my mother-in-law, rather than that of my own mom, because my mother-in-law is older—in fact, she’s among the oldest 1% of living humans globally, maybe even the oldest 0.5%, so she’s among albertnet’s most elderly potential readers. And here’s the America she was born into, broken down by some of the biggest concerns people have today about our world’s fitness for bringing up children:

• Economy: 1932 was arguably the single worst year of the Great Depression. There was 25% unemployment, and without any social safety net, unemployment generally led to immediate destitution. Over 9,000 American banks had failed.
• Geopolitics: In Germany, unemployment had hit 30% and economic desperation was fueling the rise of the Nazi party, by now the largest in Germany. Adolph Hitler would become chancellor within a year.
• Disease: There was no polio vaccine, no antibiotics, and no vaccine for measles, mumps, rubella, or chickenpox. Tuberculosis was still a leading killer. In the US, infant mortality was roughly 60 per 1,000 live births in 1932—compared to about 5.4 today.

Just imagine if my mother-in-law’s parents had contemplated the state of the world and were in a position to decide whether or not to have a baby. I mean, her dad had a job crushing rocks (to make gravel). Fate did me a huge favor there, as my mother-in-law went on to have a happy childhood and is still enjoying a long, satisfying adulthood after having four beautiful children, one of whom became my wife. If you were to ask my mother-in-law today if the circumstances of her birth put her in a deep existential hole she never managed to climb out of, she’d laugh in your face.

1969 — The year of my birth

I was the last of four boys born to my parents, and—birth control having been readily available—was not an accident. My mom and dad conceived me with full knowledge that their world was seriously messed up:

• Geopolitics: 1969 was the peak year of American troops in Vietnam, with over half a million deployed. The draft was in effect, meaning virtually every young man in the country faced the possibility of being sent to fight in a war with no clear end.
• Political dysfunction: The year before, 1968, had seen the assassination of Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr.; police attacking anti-war protesters at the Democratic National Convention; and widespread urban riots. Nixon had just taken office under a cloud of suspicion that would culminate in Watergate. The previous year’s Tet Offensive had shattered public trust in the government’s honesty about the war.
• National safety: The Cold War was at a sustained peak. Both the US and the Soviet Union had enough nuclear warheads to destroy civilization multiple times over, and the doctrine of Mutually Assured Destruction was widely bandied about.
• Economy: Inflation was famously bad in 1969, at 6.1%—a shocking and disheartening rate after two decades of price stability. The Federal Reserve responded by increasing interest rates sharply, which pushed America toward a long and stubborn recession. Americans had no idea they were on the cusp of one of the great bull markets in American history; they saw only inflation, a growing recession, an expensive war with no end in sight, and a deeply divided country.
• Crime: the murder rate was heading toward what would become the worst era of American violent crime in modern history, peaking at 10.4 per 100,000 in 1980—more than double today’s rate.
• Culture: Within a month of my birth, the TV show “Hee Haw” premiered. And my father actually watched it. These were dark times indeed.

2001 — The year of my first child’s birth

The year 2001, and those following it, were not halcyon days for America. And yet it never occurred to my wife and me not to have kids, based on then-current events. In fact, if you were to have asked us to explain our pro-procreation rationale as concisely as possible, we’d have gotten it down to a single word: “Duh.” And yet, here’s what was going on in our world:

• Terrorism: September 11, 2001—the deadliest terrorist attack in America’s history—killed nearly 3,000 people and triggered a governmental response that fundamentally changed America’s approach to security and surveillance. The anthrax letters that followed killed 5 and infected 17 others, raising fears of biological warfare on American soil. The sense that the homeland was no longer safe was entirely new and profoundly destabilizing psychologically.
• Economy: The dot-com bubble had burst in March of 2000, wiping out trillions in wealth, and by 2001 the US economy was in deep recession. This was worsened by 9/11, which caused the stock market to fall 7.1% on its first day of trading after the attacks.
• Political dysfunction: The country was bitterly divided over a presidential election decided by the Supreme Court, which halted a recount in Florida. The Court’s ruling was so unusual that it explicitly stated it should not be cited as precedent—an extraordinary statement to make. Suffice to say this decision struck a great many Americans as scandalous.
• Geopolitics: The US was on the verge of wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, but with no clear target or objective identified. The world suddenly felt dangerous in ways it hadn’t since the Cold War.

Granted, my first child was conceived before the attack on the World Trade Center. But did my wife and I regret for one moment bringing her into that world? Not at all. After all, we decided, with eyes wide open, to have another child two years later, even though by then unemployment had hit its peak and my own employer had gone bankrupt.

I hope I’ve compellingly suggested that every generation has been born into conditions that could, by the “concerns about the state of the world” logic, have argued for not procreating—and yet my mother-in-law, her daughter, your humble blogger, and my children are all glad we’re here. And since the dates of our respective births, so much about the world has improved. Here are some highlights:

• Today, infant mortality is eleven times lower than it was in the year of my mother-in-law’s birth. If that doesn’t make this a better time to have children, what does?
• Violent crime has fallen more than 50% since its early 1990s peak, and property crime has fallen almost the same amount, according to FBI statistics.
• Since the year of my first daughter’s birth, the economy has boomed; despite 9/11, two wars, the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression, and a pandemic, the stock market in 2026 is worth roughly six times what it was in 2001. If we go back to 1969, parents afraid of market conditions would deprive a child of the opportunity to partake in 30-fold S&P 500 growth over the next 57 years (adjusted for inflation, with dividends reinvested).
• The world demonstrated an unprecedented capability to respond to a crisis, that being the COVID-19 pandemic. As aptly recounted here, an amazing collaboration took place between the biotech industry and various governments. Based on groundbreaking innovation and a largely unprecedented willingness to accelerate regulatory approval, a vaccine was developed in less than 12 months. This shattered the previous record, which was the mumps vaccine in the 1960s, which took about four years. A 2025 study published in JAMA Health Forum, a publication of the American Medical Association, estimates that the COVID-19 vaccines saved 2.5 million lives. I cannot imagine what would have happened had COVID hit back in 2001.

Still worried about politics?

If you’re still rejecting my assertions about the state of the world, perhaps your position is largely political. After all, politics is probably the most divisive force informing the national mood right now. So I’m going to tackle that, but don’t worry—I won’t take a side. (As described here, I think partisan bickering is pointless and not the purpose of albertnet.) Instead, let’s imagine a political change that I think we can all agree would be disastrous: what if we lost the right to free speech? And how about another: what if we fell under tyrannical Communist rule? Would I then concede that it’s wrong to bring a child into this world?

My answer is an emphatic “No.” Because if we decided, on the basis of Communist tyranny and the lack of free speech, that it was wrong to have children, we’d also be saying it’s been wrong for anyone in China to have had a baby in the last 77 years, or anyone in Russia for most of the last 109. We’d be saying it was wrong for my college roommate to have been given a chance at life: he was born into an authoritarian monarchy in Ethiopia, one of the poorest countries on earth; lived through a Communist revolution and one of the most brutal regimes in African history; was labeled an “enemy of the state” as a teenager who dared to speak out; escaped to America; and is now thriving and raising a family. Do you want to tell couples in less privileged countries than ours that it’s immoral for them to have kids?

Which brings me to my final point: the intrinsic absurdity of basing the decision of a lifetime on a snapshot in time.

A failure of perspective

Let’s do a quick thought exercise. Let’s suppose my wife and I had been thinking about starting a family a couple years earlier, in 1999, so we did an assessment then of the state of the world. The Dow had just closed above 10,000, and then 11,000, for the first time in history. The NASDAQ produced a mind-boggling 85.6% annual return. Unemployment hit its lowest level in 30 years. The federal government posted a $125 billion budget surplus — its second consecutive surplus after 30 years of deficits. Geopolitically, the Cold War had been over for a decade, the Soviet Union was gone, and democracy was spreading globally. It might have seemed like the perfect time to bring a child into the world—and yet within just a couple of years all this had collapsed. A child born in 1999 would be less than a year old when the NASDAQ began its catastrophic slide, losing three quarters of its value over the next couple of years. My kid would have been two years old on 9/11; three years old when WorldCom became the largest bankruptcy in American history after massive accounting fraud; and four years old when the US invaded Iraq and unemployment peaked at it post-recession high. So basing the decision to procreate on favorable conditions no more guarantees a happy life for your child than rough times portend a fraught one.

This is the folly of taking a snapshot in time and assuming it will set the tone of a person’s life for the next 70, 80, maybe 90 years. A child born today will live until roughly 2100 … who could possibly say what will happen between now and then? Think back to my mother-in-law’s life … she has lived through a crazy mixed bag of good and bad, from the Great Depression, World War II, the Cold War, Vietnam, Watergate, the 1970s stagflation, the AIDS epidemic, 9/11, the 2008 financial crisis, and COVID-19—but also the defeat of Axis imperialism, the creation of the polio vaccine, the Civil Rights act and Voting Rights act, the fall of the Berlin Wall, the eradication of smallpox (which had killed millions), the previously unimaginable access to information made possible by the Internet, the development of mRNA vaccines and unprecedented speed of the COVID vaccine, and the dramatic global decline in extreme poverty—more people lifted out of poverty in her lifetime than in all the rest of human history combined.

My takeaway? Looking at current events and deciding not to have kids is simply a failure of perspective. Basing an irreversible decision on what you read on your phone or hear on your podcast is not clear-headed risk assessment—it’s an anxiety response dressed up as moral reasoning. Again, I don’t blame you for feeling anxious. I just find it unsupportable to convert that anxiety into a judgment like “it’s wrong to bring a child into this world.”

A final note

I want to reiterate that I’m not trying to promote procreation—I am completely fine with “I choose not to,” and object merely to “no one should.” I am willing to work very hard to understand another’s perspective, so long as it’s not some froot-loopy moral judgment. Let me give you an example. I’ll confess I was somewhat flippant when my daughter announced she would never be a mother. I said something like, “It’s natural that at age 22 you’re not ready for parenting,” and intimated that her biological clock may one day cause her to change her mind. She seemed inordinately irritated by this response, I felt at first, but I finally understood her perspective when I read this passage in one of her college papers (for a philosophy class, on a non-procreation topic):

If I heard my parents talking about the messiness and inhuman effort of raising a child and I said I certainly wouldn’t go the same way they would laugh, and respond, “Just you wait till those hormones kick in.” It was as if they wished destruction upon me in the form of chemicals that would override reason and change my conception of self, that iron necessity to do what I did not want, justified because I’d become someone who desired it.

I call that “owning it.” She’s not afraid to answer the question for herself, not for the world. I think we can all respect that … right?

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Email me here. For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.

Is It Wrong to Bring a Child Into This World?

Introduction

Throughout the world, the birthrate is falling. I’m not overmuch concerned about this, actually; we humans have had a good run, have obviously taken more than our share of our planet’s bounty and so on, and as a species I doubt we’ll be missed. But I am at the time of life when my friends have kids of child-rearing age, and here and there I’ll hear one of these friends say, whether quoting their kids or expressing their own sentiment or both, “It just seems wrong to bring a child into this world.” This gets my hackles up; in this post I explore why.

Just to make sure this sentiment is a thing, vs. me just happening to know an outsized number of nutjobs, I did a little research. Sure enough, a large (N=11,945) Pew survey conducted in 2023, when the US fertility rate reached a historic low, catalogs a variety of reason people aren’t procreating, and among these are two flavors of “it seems wrong,” including “concerns about the state of the world, other than the environment” (cited by 38% of respondents aged 18-49) and “concerns about the environment, including climate change” (26%). A third position, which didn’t figure in the Pew survey but I kept stumbling upon in my  research, is the idea that it’s ethically wrong to bring about a human life, period, since we can expect that human to undergo a lot of suffering during his or her lifetime. (This is similar to the “concerns about the state of the world,” except that it doesn’t account for the specific circumstances that person would face: this perspective is that it’s always wrong.)

I’m going to address these in order of how much they bother me.

But first, some demographic grounding…

You might wonder why I would challenge any resistance to the idea of procreation, given how overpopulation has for decades been cited as one of the greatest problems facing the world. I first encountered this notion in junior high when “ZPG,” zero population growth, was treated like the most noble of human endeavors. At that time, the bestselling book The Population Bomb, by Paul Ehrlich, was still being talked about, years after its publication. In fact, Ehrlich’s influence continued such that his ideas showed up again in my college Environmental Studies course. But oddly enough, Ehrlich’s predictions have not been materially borne out.

I still encounter people who believe overpopulation is a major global problem. They haven’t gotten the memo: the human population will peak during this century and then decline. This isn’t some hunch or non-validated claim your blogger is spouting; it’s widely accepted by demographers, and explained in this report by the United Nations. (The timing of this downturn is somewhat debated; the direction is not. For example, the UN predicts a peak population of 10.3 billion in the 2080s, whereas University of Washington’s Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation, publishing in The Lancet, projects a peak of 9.7 billion as early as 2064.)

Why is this? It’s due to the dramatic drop in fertility rates globally. The term “fertility” in this context doesn’t just mean our capability of reproducing (e.g., sperm count, other biological factors). It’s generally short for “total fertility rate” (TFR) and indicates the number of children a couple ends up having, based on all factors including their willingness to even try to conceive. The current TFR for the U.S. is 1.60 (i.e., on average each couple has 1.6 children). It’s widely considered that to maintain a country’s population requires a TFR of 2.1. (This is the accepted threshold because slightly more boys than girls are born, and not all children survive to reproductive age.) Worldwide, the TFR currently stands at 2.25, and it’s dropping fast, and has been for decades, since 1965—the same year the birth control pill came out, and the US Supreme Court struck down state laws banning contraception for married people. Check out this graph, from the excellent book Factfulness – Ten Reasons We’re Wrong About the World—and Why Things Are Better Than You Think by Hans Rosling et al:

So how come the world population isn’t declining yet, despite the low TFR? First of all, while one in four people already live in a country whose population has peaked, this sub-replacement-level TFR probably hasn’t been reached yet globally. (I say “probably” because there’s disagreement on this; some demographers believe it has.) The UN predicts the worldwide TFR won’t go below 2.1 until 2036. Even when it does, the population won’t decline right away, due to a concept that demographers call momentum. Jesús Fernández-Villaverde, an economist at the University of Pennsylvania, describes it thus, in an interview you can read here:

Momentum means the population will keep growing for 15 to 30 years after you fall below the replacement rate. Let me give a simple example. Imagine you have a spouse and only one kid. You are below replacement rate, but you are two. You have two parents, your spouse has two parents. You are not replacing yourselves, but your parents have not died yet. The fact that you have one kid still increases the population. The problem is when your parents die, [you] have not replaced them.

In case you’re curious, the population of the US has been projected by our Census Bureau to peak around 2080, based on experts’ best guess at the immigration rate. Their low-immigration model forecasts a peak in 2043, and without any immigration, we’d have peaked already, in 2024. 

So what happened to Ehrlich’s predictions of doom? Interestingly enough, his ideas weren’t actually accepted among serious demographers even when The Population Bomb was published. He kind of duped us! In fact, his book came out three years after the average number of babies per woman had already peaked and begun its long decline. He was diagnosing a crisis at the precise moment the underlying trend was already moving us in the opposite direction.

All of this is to say, declining to procreate based on the specter of overpopulation is an outdated notion that would be all too easy to dismiss. But the population backdrop is useful to bear in mind as we examine the three rationale I mentioned for believing it’s wrong to bring a child into this world.

The environmental perspective

When people cite the burden of humanity on the planet as a reason not to have kids, I have to concede they have a point. Certainly we humans have taken more than our share of resources and caused massive damage to the planet, including the loss of countless species. It’s easy to see how not procreating would help, but I will challenge this position anyway. First, it’s easy enough for us to deride the environmental consequences of humankind, but aren’t we also enjoying our lives and the gifts that fossil fuels bestow? How convenient that we can take the high road regarding breeding, since we didn’t choose to be here. I notice very few are volunteering to leave.

The idea of not procreating does seem like the most effective way to lower carbon emissions. Sure, I can (and usually do) bike instead of drive, but of course I still have a carbon footprint. (In fact, most of my rides are for recreation, not transportation; I eat more because I ride hard; and I shower and launder my bike clothing after every ride.) The only way to shrink my carbon footprint to zero would be, of course, to off myself, but I’m not willing to do that. Making a pledge not to produce offspring that carry forward our planet-ruining ways is obviously much easier (at least for people who, unlike me, aren’t parents yet). My research produced a number of celebrities expounding this merits of this noble sacrifice. Perhaps the most outspoken was Miley Cyrus who told Elle magazine, “We’re getting handed a piece-of-shit planet, and I refuse to hand that down to my child.” She vows not to procreate “until I feel like my kid would live on an earth with fish in the water.”

I think her sentiment is a good example of how this is more of a values-oriented idea than a true strategy, unless you’re willing to go all the way. There are certainly people who are, such as members of The Voluntary Human Extinction Movement (VHEMT) (pronounced “vehement”) whose motto is “May we live long and die out.” VHEMT’s founder, Les Knight, told the New York Times, “We [humans] came to be and then ran amok. And because we’re smart enough, we should know enough to end it.” David Benatar, a prominent moral philosopher at the University of Cape Town, speaking about the extinction of the human race, declares, “It would be better, all things being equal, if this happened sooner rather than later.” I am guessing that most people who trot out the environmental rationale for non-child-rearing aren’t this extreme.

I’m struck that the endgame of voluntary human extinction is rather similar to what happens if we do nothing about climate change: either way, we humans end up extinct. The difference is how much collateral damage we cause along the way. But the idea that we as individuals should sacrifice having kids in the service of environmental welfare doesn’t, for me, entirely hold up because a) if this perspective gained popularity, eventually the only people procreating would be climate change deniers, who don’t tend to devote themselves to clean energy and other pro-environment efforts, and b) based on wider trends, the fertility rate is dropping so fast already that our human impact on the planet is going to decline radically in the coming decades anyway. To showcase how radically, let’s look at some numbers, from this essay by Derek Thompson, a longtime writer for The Atlantic, in which he interviews Fernández-Villaverde, the economist at Penn I quoted earlier. Fernández-Villaverde explains:

Let’s suppose Thailand keeps its current fertility rate of 0.8 for 200 years. Thailand right now has 63 million people. At the end of 200 years, it will be around two million people [italics mine]. How do you wind down a society of 63 million people into two million? … It means you need to close 98% of the hospitals of the country. It means you need to close 98% of the schools of the country.

Just think of the diminishment of infrastructure worldwide. Fewer buildings, fewer cars, fewer drivers, fewer everything. We’re already seeing this in the US. My own kids’ schools in Albany, California used to strictly police their locals-only admission policy, but now accepts students from neighboring communities when space allows, due to declining enrollment. Similarly, Fernández-Villaverde mentions how his school district in Philadelphia is “closing a lot of primary schools because there are no kids.”

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a climate change denier or apologist, but it looks like a number of factors are lining up to give a bit of relief here. The International Energy Agency, the Paris-based intergovernmental energy agency of the world’s major developed economies, asserts in its World Energy Outlook 2024 report that CO2 emissions in advanced economies fell by 1.1% to 10.9 billion tons in 2024—a level last seen 50 years ago, even though the cumulative GDP of these countries is now three times as large. Granted, China’s per-capita emissions are rising sharply as its economy grows, but the IEA report forecasts that it too will decline in the second half of the century—and meanwhile, China’s fertility rate is just 1.0, so their population will crash almost as dramatically as Thailand’s.

To reiterate, fertility rates are dropping very quickly, worldwide, which will have a dramatic effect on the global population. This is a giant boulder gaining speed. To abstain from having kids—just to give that boulder a little extra push—strikes me more as a nice gesture than a moral imperative. And if we really care about climate change, might we not consider that some of our offspring may help try do something to solve the problem? Giving them the opportunity seems like a small risk, when our prospective kids’ effect on the rapidly declining world population looks like a rounding error.

The ethical perspective

Aside from the pragmatic idea of defending the planet from human onslaught, there is a philosophical, ethical movement called antinatalism that objects to procreation in principle. In a nutshell, it holds that just being alive entails suffering, and thus by bringing a person into the world, we are causing that person to suffer without their consent. It’s as though antinatalists heard teenagers complaining, “I didn’t ask to be born” and took it too much to heart. But actually, this idea isn’t new. Around 400 BC, Sophocles wrote, “Not to be born is, beyond all estimation, best; but when a man has seen the light of day, this is next best by far, that with utmost speed he should go back from where he came.” (I confess it’s hard for me to take this seriously; I’m envisioning a horrified human scrambling frantically to try to crawl back into his mother’s womb.)

In 1851, Arthur Schopenhauer wrote:

One should try to imagine that the act of procreation were neither a need, nor accompanied by sexual pleasure, but instead a matter of pure, rational reflection, could the human race even continue to exist? Would not everyone, on the contrary, have so much compassion for the coming generation that he would rather spare it the burden of existence, or at least refuse to take it upon himself to cold-bloodedly impose it on them?

I guess Schopenhauer would be surprised not only that humans do now have the choice, but that so far a majority of us have continued to procreate. Maybe we’re all enjoying our lives more than he did.

Among modern thinkers there doesn’t seem to be a deep bench of full-time philosophers espousing antinatalism; perhaps their most prominent figure is Benatar, the guy I quoted earlier saying “the sooner we go extinct the better.” He wrote a book twenty years ago called Better Never to Have Been: The Harm of Coming into Existence, which might be the closest the modern movement has to a bible. The centerpiece of his antinatalism is known as “Benatar’s Asymmetry,” which (as described by Wikipedia) goes like this:

1. The presence  of pain is bad.

 2. The presence of pleasure is good. However:

3. The absence of pain is good, even if that good is not enjoyed by anyone.

4. The absence of pleasure is not bad unless there exists someone for whom this absence is a deprivation.

Thus, bringing a person into existence generates both good and bad experiences, such as pain and pleasure, whereas not coming into existence entails neither pain nor pleasure. The absence of pain is good, while the absence of pleasure is not bad. Therefore, the ethical choice is weighed in favor of non-procreation.

I have two fundamental problems with this logic. First, it assumes that pleasure and pain are like measurable building blocks of experience. They are absolutely not. Some people get more pleasure in life than others; some get more pain. But who could possibly calculate, on the whole, whether any particular person minds the disparity of his or her circumstance so much as to regret being alive? As operands in Benatar’s handy little grid, “pleasure” and “pain” work fine; in real life, they’re so messy as to be useless in any kind of experiential calculus.

My second issue with this Benatar’s Asymmetry is that it presupposes that all pain and suffering are in fact a net negative, whereas overcoming suffering can produce great satisfaction. Consider Eminem’s character in 8 Mile: most of the movie showcases his struggle, disappointment, and humiliation, until (don’t worry, no real spoilers here) it all comes right in the end. (If you haven’t seen that movie, go watch it right now and come back.) The triumph in the end is glorious. And now let’s consider Eminem’s actual life: he had a thoroughly miserable childhood, with a drug-addicted mother who suffered Munchausen Syndrome By Proxy, meaning she literally poisoned her child because she derived pleasure from the ministrations of medical staff. Imagine his satisfaction at not only surviving that, but going on to achieve worldwide stardom and excellence as a musical artist. Overcoming odds can be intensely gratifying. Listen to the triumph in Eminem’s voice in “Halie’s Song,” about the joy he gets from being a father: “ ‘Cause my baby knows that her daddy’s a soldier/ Nothin’ can take her from me.”

Perhaps the opportunity to gain strength and satisfaction from suffering can start to explain why people actually choose to endure pain—think of athletes. I myself have inflicted suffering on myself countless times (click here, or here, or here), just for the thrill of it. Naturally, there’s a difference between the suffering we willingly undertake and that which is thrust upon us, but I have experience there too, like when I broke my femur in a bike crash. Obviously if I could have chosen not to endure that, I’d gladly have passed—and yet, it did happen, and I did continue with the sport. It never occurred to me to quit. Why? Because on balance the pain is worth the pleasure. I’d just as soon decide where I fall on that pleasure/pain axis, vs. my parents having concluded on my behalf, ahead of time, that my life just wouldn’t be worth the suffering.

Another central argument Benatar makes is what he calls the “misanthropic argument,” which Wikipedia describes thus:

According to this argument, humans are a deeply flawed and destructive species that is responsible for the suffering and deaths of billions of other humans and non-human animals. If that level of destruction were caused by another species we would rapidly recommend that new members of that species not be brought into existence.

This one is just empirically false: I can easily name a species that causes the deaths of billions of animals: housecats. The peer-reviewed journal Nature Communications estimates that “domestic cats kill 1.3–4.0 billion birds and 6.3–22.3 billion mammals annually.” Are we really going to call for the voluntary extinction of the domestic cat? Look, Benatar: the world is a harsh place. Get over it.

Finally, a widespread tenet of the antinatal movement, as documented here and here, is that by having a child, we are exposing that person to pain and suffering without his or her consent. The popular antinatalist YouTuber Lawrence Anton explains, “So, you’re creating someone and they’re going to go through all this suffering, whatever it is in their life, and you’re not even able to ask them if they want to take those odds.” Well, what would that consent even look like? Don’t teenagers breezily blow past every privacy warning and end user agreement they ever see on social media, because they don’t have the fully formed neocortex required for the consideration of consequences? How much reasoning power does a zygote have?

Kidding aside, do these antinatalists really believe that we humans who have gotten the chance to exist are in a position to provide consent for our own future suffering? What if God came to me in a vision and said, “Dana, as a fallen Unitarian you are scheduled to have crippling back pain in your 70s. Would you prefer to be struck by lightning at 69?” I wouldn’t be able to decide. And what about the elder population a generation or two from now, whose safety net would be demolished if antinatalists got their way and there was no younger generation to pay into Social Security? Are we planning to get their consent? How come suffering is only to be avoided when it’s hypothetical instead of assured?

To be continued…

I advised earlier that I would consider each of these three “is it wrong” rationale in order of how much they vex me. As this post has gone on long enough, I shall save the “best” for last. Tune in next week when I’ll tackle the reason that 38% of the adults between 18 to 49 gave, in the Pew survey, for not having children: “Concerns about the state of the world.” I’ll also go into the number one reason those surveyed gave for not having kids, and why I’m actually fine with it.

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High School Dress Code - The Redline

Introduction

I have tried to be a good parent, but it’s not always easy keeping up with the job. A recent example: my younger daughter’s college tuition bills always went to her, and she never forwarded them because who cares? So I’d suddenly have to scramble after she received her third reminder and decided to bring it to my attention. Could I have put this recurring task on my calendar? Sure. Did I? Nope.

Thus, I suppose it shouldn’t have been a surprise when I recently stumbled across a document that my kids’ high school sent home, years ago, for me to sign. I swear I’d never seen it before, though it was certainly my signature at the bottom. Probably my kid thrust it in my face when I was trying to hustle her out the door, and when I didn’t see any financial impacts I just blindly signed it. Well, now that it’s come across my desk again, and I finally have the time to look at it, I’ve decided to redline it like I should have done in the first place. Since the school is most certainly not going to review my edits, I’m posting it here as a service to those who still have kids in high school and should be campaigning to refine their schools’ regulations. Note that due to HTML complexities, I’m not going to actually use a red font or strike anything out. You get to figure out what the original text was and which verbiage comprises my amendments and embellishments.

Albany High Dress Code – suggested revisions for immediate review

1. Clothing should be neat, clean and appropriate with shoes worn at all times. Common sense and reasonable judgment should eliminate the need to correct students in the area of dress and personal appearance. In the event that common sense and reasonable judgment do not prevent the need for correction, the source of the faulty judgment or lack of common sense will need to be established. This is a two-way street, and surely students will find administrators’ judgment lacking. Since these kids are the darlings of marketers, with their clothing choices becoming the habits that will cement lifetime value for the clothing industry, consideration will be made to grant the kids some clout, versus the educators who are, let’s face it, kind of bitter and probably not contributing much to the economy, based on their famously poor wages.

2. Shorts may be worn, but shorts and skirts that are too short, frayed, torn, or too tight are not acceptable. Clothing must not have holes that would attract attention and/or cause a distraction to the educational process. The judgment of this is up to school personnel, who are actually quite reasonable. For example, after last year’s dust-up around skirt length and the impressive solidarity of boys who began wearing miniskirts to support the cause, the school is now officially allowing skirts (of appropriate length) for both boys and girls. Also, staff members generously do allow holes in garments that are essential to their function, such as arm holes, neck holes, and leg holes. The staff acknowledges that a lack of a necessary hole, such as a missing aperture at the base of a sleeve, would be distracting if it were to inhibit the student’s actual arm from being usable. Also, if a garment has fringes, which are effectively quite similar to fraying fabric other than being tidier and more obviously engineered, as opposed to suggestive of excessive wear, the garment will be tolerated. Moreover, tassels are acceptable and even encouraged. The main distraction to the educational process is any feature of a garment that would be noticed by teenage boys with their raging hormones. Since most teenage girls find boys gross, it is reasonable that boys’ attire can be shorter, more frayed, or even torn, though too tight would be distracting to anybody. A final note: it is unreasonable to expect an educator to have to explain what, specifically, is unacceptable about a garment, in the event that it is distracting on a hormonal level. This could cause blushing and the suggestion of untoward attention. Educators will simply use the term “frayed” in a very generic way and students should accept this as a catch-all term for inappropriate clothing.

3. Markings or insignia on clothing or the body must not be obscene, suggestive, show gang affiliation, feature inappropriate language, or advocate disruptive behavior. Staff acknowledges that gang activity in Albany is exceedingly rare, so the colors red and blue may be freely worn, though red is preferred as it is the school color. It is also acceptable to wear clothing bearing a Berkeley High insignia, but only ironically. Inappropriate language is to be determined by the educators. For example, “FIGHT THE POWER,” though it advocates disruptive behavior, is acceptable as a tribute to Public Enemy (a rap group many staff members enjoyed as teenagers), whereas “DIE YUPPIE SCUM” is offensive to educators who are acutely aware of their lack of yuppie status. In situations where staff members disagree, a recent example being the phrase “I POOPED TODAY” on a t-shirt, determination will be made based on any staff member being uncomfortable. In such cases it is strictly forbidden to single out the offended staff member, such as by calling her “constipated” or “bitter.”

4. Clothing must not advertise or promote alcohol, tobacco, or drugs. If, for example, a student’s parent works for Pfizer and receives a branded t-shirt as swag, and the student wears this to school, he or she may be asked to go home and change. Furthermore, if a garment advertises a product that could be mistaken for a drug, such as Pfister (a plumbing fixture company commonly confused with Pfizer), that garment cannot be worn. The rule applies even if an alcohol-related brand is not featured primarily to promote the product. For example, if a student wears a retro Coors Classic t-shirt that he nicked from his father, he or she will be sent home, even though Coors beer is practically water.

5. Underwear may not show. However, it must be worn. The school administration acknowledges that this is difficult to enforce. For the most part the “honor system” will be used, but if a student is suspected of “going commando,” he or she may be sent home to change, with zero dialogue around why the staff member is suspicious.

6. Tops worn by boys or girls must not be revealing as judged by school personnel. Exceptions may be made based on what is being revealed. For example, a tight shirt revealing belly paunch will be tolerated, to avoid fat-shaming.

7. Clothing should cover the midriff. It’s bad enough when a nice flat midriff distracts hormonal boys; when a “muffin-top” is exposed, that’s distracting to everybody.[ In fact, consider changing “should” to “must.”]

8. Clothing that is disruptive or causes distraction while at school or a school function is not permitted. This includes disruption or distraction that accrues to the wearer, not just staff and fellow students. For example, if a student must hitch his or her pants up every thirty seconds to avoid violating rule #5, the pants are considered distracting. Certain exceptions may be made; for example, a student unable to concentrate due the discomfort of a hair shirt may continue wearing it if he or she is doing penance in accordance with his or her religious beliefs, which are protected under school policy.

9. Cargo pants/shorts with more than five pockets are prohibited. The “watch pocket” does count as a pocket, whether or not the student actually carries a pocket watch. An exception to this rule may be granted in the event that the student  must carry more prescription medication (including inhalers, insulin pens, Narcan spray applicators, and EpiPens) than would fit in five pockets. In this event, given the weight of all these full pockets, a belt must be worn to avoid violation of rules 5 and 8 as described above.

10. Albany High School reserves the right to allow or disallow certain apparel and accessories. If a student is asked to remove a hat or other headgear by any school personnel or guest teacher, the request must be honored promptly with no discussion. In the event of conflict, such as a student wearing a Stanford cap because a parent attended school there, which annoys a teacher who went to Berkeley, the teacher will automatically prevail. Or, if a teacher thinks visors simply make no sense, the student must remove his or her visor or add a yarmulke to complete the cap.

Postscript

In case you were wondering, almost all of the above rules are from the actual Albany High dress code. The only exception is number nine, which is from Southern Nash Middle School. I find this five-pocket prohibition a bit rich, especially from a school whose logo is highly anatomically suggestive.

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From the Archives - Bits & Bobs Volume XXIX

Introduction

This is the twenty-ninth installment in the “From the Archives – Bits & Bobs” series. Volume I of the series is here, Volume II is here, Volume III is here, Volume IV is here, Volume V is here, Volume VI is here, Volume VII is here, Volume XIII is here, Volume IX is here, Volume X is here, Volume XI is here, Volume XII is here, Volume XIII is here, Volume XIV is here, Volume XV is here, Volume XVI is here, Volume XVII is here, Volume XVIII is here, Volume XIX is here, Volume XX is here, Volume XXI is here, Volume XXII is here, Volume XXIII is here, Volume XXIV is here, Volume XXV is here, Volume XXVI is here, Volume XXVII is here, and Volume XXVIII is here. If that seems like a lot of volumes, rest assured it actually isn’t. Why not? Because I say it’s not.

So what are albertnet Bits & Bobs? They’re brief bulletins I wrote to entertain family and friends when I was young and brash and just didn’t know any better. This is back when people actually wrote letters. Wait, did I say “people”? I meant me. Anyway, within each volume these are in chronological order, but the volumes jump all around through time and space. Read them in order, out of order, in alphabetical order by Roman numeral, in numerical order by word count, or according to whatever your preferred algorithm dictates. All of today’s dispatches were written when I was attending UC Santa Barbara.

January 18, 1989

There’s a girl in my French class whom I’m trying to “get to know.” Today it hit me how ridiculous the whole thing is. First, I’d arrange it so that I would sit by her, and chat her up, and then when that routine seemed to be established I’d show up early and sit somewhere else to see if she deliberately sat next to me. And then today—bonus!—we had a conversation after class that lasted all the way down the stairs and out to the bike racks. So I was basically gauging my “progress” through some kind of spatial measurement system. A real man wouldn’t bother with all this incremental BS, he’d just ask her out to coffee or drop a clever line like, “Women pay to go out with me.” At least this girl said something pretty interesting today: she said if she could buy a new car, she’d buy a Dodge Ram Charger. That seems sort of cool. In fact, I just realized she’s probably out of my league.

April 5, 1989

Today I slept throughout my first Physics lecture, then forgot about my Psychology class, and then slept through my English class. Why? Well, there are several factors. Like the weather, for example. It has been in the mid‑90’s here all week, not a cloud in the sky. You know, that dependable heat that isn’t going to leave you out in the cold all of a sudden. Even the evenings are nice and warm. So I’ve been riding more than ever, to enjoy that, and then when I’m not riding, the tropical torpor tends to induce a lackadaisical lifestyle which doesn’t involve being bright-eyed and bushy‑tailed when I get to class.

Today we got our cycling team sweatshirts –now that it’s 90 degrees in the shade. They’re way bitchin’. They’re like a grey heather, like with the white fibers running through the fabric? And with the big hood, and the white pile lining, and they weigh like 500 pounds. And the best part is, if I’m wearing it and fall asleep in class, which happens a lot because I’m so exhausted from training in the heat, it sort of holds me upright.

April 28, 1989

The cycling team meets once a week (in addition to all the rides, of course). The meetings don’t really get going until about half an hour after the scheduled time, so that’s when I show up. Meanwhile, the location of the meeting changes from week to week. It’s really hard to figure out where they’ll put it next. A veritable wild goose chase, if you’ve ever been to one of those. So anyhow (I’m not boring you, am I?) I showed up yesterday evening in front of the UCen, which is sort of a plaza, and everybody was there just sort of riding around. Naturally, I joined them. This guy M— was there on a totally rad Schwinn beach cruiser from the ‘50s. M—is pretty cool because he works at a bike shop and races pretty well, but he’s also kind of annoying everybody lately because he started one of those dreaded cycling team romances we all hate so much and has basically turned into a total sap. Every time he sees his little woman (who, incidentally, isn’t much of a looker) he drops everything, even if in mid‑sentence, to go pal around with her. But his old Schwinn is a total gem. The coolest part? It’s a two-speed. Not a back‑pedal kind, either. It’s got a brake lever sized shifter, made by . . . guess who? It ain’t Sturmey-Archer. It’s Bendix. Yes, the very same Bendix that makes the aerospace stuff. I asked Mark how often he had to adjust the shifting. He said never. And I tried it. It works flawlessly, 35 years into its life. So anyway, after about half an hour of bike combat, general socializing, et cetera, I realized that maybe the meeting wasn’t going down at all. I asked somebody, and he nonchalantly said, “Oh, yeah. It got moved to tomorrow night.” I almost asked, “Then what are we doing here?” but realized that I knew exactly what we were doing: hanging out.

Eventually we all decided we’d better study and a bunch of us headed over to the library. I never get much done there when I’m with friends, but I had to try—my Physics midterm was the next day. I have a knack for test preparation, I think. I start by going through my notes to try to guess what the teacher will put on the test. Most of my notes are written for my own amusement, because if I’m not amusing myself, the professor sure isn’t either, which means I might fall asleep and not write anything. Here’s an example from my actual notes:

4/27/89 Thurs: WAVES

Waves are characterized by speed, wavelengths.

• “Heat wave”: if ya got a heat wave, then ya got temperatures soaring into the nineties for days on end
• “The Wave”: a certain dance characterized by wobbly arm movements
• “Rad wave”: a 20‑footer or bigger that’ll take you all the way to the beach, dude
• “Permanent wave”: a hairdo characterized by tight curls that don’t require styling or setting gel

October 6, 1989

This friend of mine doesn’t have a mountain bike so I loaned him mine so we could cruise around the beach and some nearby trails. I rode my commuter death bike. Everyone calls it that because I have these bolt-on cantilever brake bosses (aka Moots Mounts) and to make them stiffer, I have a section of steel chainring spanning them (custom-cut to fit). They look really cool but everyone’s like, “What if you crashed? Couldn’t they, like, puncture you?” So we rode on the beach for a while, and then on these really sandy trails, and suddenly my tires washed out, and then the handlebar and the wheel stuck into the ground and I almost went over the bars. By “almost” I mean that I almost made it out okay, I mean I should have gone all the way over the bars, but my groin caught on the end of the handlebar that was sticking up and it impaled me. I was up there for like a couple of seconds, with all my weight concentrated on the plastic handlebar cap, right in my groin. Then the whole bike toppled on me and something raked across my leg. It was the chainring brake stiffener. It gave me this huge gash in there. It actually would’ve been funny as hell if it didn’t hurt so bad. [I still have a scar, over a quarter-century later.]

You know how you always wish you could get a crash on videotape? Well, I did. Later in the ride I spontaneously decided to ride down this big concrete driveway that goes right down to the beach, to lower boats into the water on trailers. There was a guy standing at the top making a movie with a little VHS camera, and I asked if it was cool for me to ride down. He said yeah, so I went down, taking advantage of its being sandy by doing this big gnarly zorro [where you lock up the rear wheel and do big fishtails]. What I didn’t know was that there was like a foot drop-off at the end. But hey, no problem, I had plenty of speed, so did a big jump and made a perfect landing, rear wheel first. Thing was, once the front wheel landed it bogged in the sand instantly and this time I made it all the way over the handlebars. I tucked and rolled and landed in tons of sand so it didn’t hurt at all. In fact, I rolled all the way over in a complete somersault and came up on my feet, throwing my arms up in a victory salute. Like 20 people were out there sunbathing and all cheered. I wonder how many times the guy with the camera will watch that footage, laughing his ass off.

October 10, 1989

A couple of days ago Andy, our Korean neighbor who’s in the ESL program here, came over and hung around while I made Spaghetti Francisco. He seems lonely – he often cruises right into our apartment, and starts looking around, picking objects up and inspecting them, and talking. His English is surprisingly good, considering he’s only been in the U.S. for eleven days, and (he says) he was really bad in his English classes at school. He doesn’t get along with his roommates very well –one is Japanese and barely speaks a word of English, and other guy, who’s Swiss, only bothers to speak German because he always has at least half a dozen other Swiss guys couch-surfing in the apartment and borrowing Andy’s stuff. Anyhow, earlier that day Andy’s cousin had come to visit and smashed her car into one of the pillars, shaking the building. I think she was planning to have dinner with Andy, but was so upset she left and got a motel room or something. Now Andy asked if he could use our microwave, and had this big package of meat, and I figured he needed to defrost it in a hurry or something before taking it back to his apartment and cooking it on his stove. It was in there forever, and I got the Francisco in the oven while Casey heated up some chicken noodle soup with little round noodles. Andy said, “They look like little doughnuts.” Casey said, “Yes, they do indeed look exactly like tiny miniature doughnuts.” I replied, “Yes, it’s in fact rather astonishing just how closely those noodles do resemble diminutive doughnuts.” If Tesh had been around he would surely have made a similarly astute observation employing equally precise vocabulary. Suddenly Andy pulled out the big plate of meat, set it on the table, and said, “Dig in.” Wow! I’d had no idea it was for us!

Man, it was so good. I guess it was a cross section of the cow where all the ribs stick through, all sliced up so that there were three little discs of bone in each slice. I don’t know how meat can turn out so well in the microwave. It wasn’t just plain , but prepared with some Korean recipe, swimming in a spicy, fatty sauce. Once we started eating nobody was talking, just grabbing the meat with our fingers, picking the little round bones clean, smacking our lips, and grabbing another piece. I was worried Casey wasn’t moving fast enough to get his share, but he hardly eats anything anyway and I end up finishing off his last piece. Then we dug into the Spaghetti Francisco. Poor Tesh never showed up—too busy studying, I guess—so he missed out.

November 13, 1989

The stupidest trend has caught on here. All these students buy mountain bikes, and all these bikes have quick-release seat posts [the idea being that you should lower your seat before gnarly descent]. As if any of these people ever rode off-road! Since the QR post means your seat can be stolen in five seconds, these students take their seats/seatposts off and take them to class for safekeeping, down on the  floor under the desk. So their bikes out in the racks have this exposed frame tube so rain can fall in there, and I occasionally see trash stuffed in the hole by some mischievous passerby. Worse yet, the students look like idiots carrying around these seats, with the post getting grease on their clothes. I was in the library with a friend and we just had to laugh, watching all these students milling around with their bike seats.

February 19, 1990

Last Thursday there was a lab due in my socioeconomic geography class, based on a research article we had to borrow from the reserve book room of the library. (I guess that’s what makes it a “lab” instead of just another paper.) I kept putting off the assignment and then Wednesday rolled around and I forgot to do it because it was Valentine’s Day and for the first time, I actually had a date. The next day, the reserve room opened at 8:00 a.m., and the lab was due at 9:00. So I showed up there just after 8:00, got the article, ran over to the microcomputer lab to use their word processor, pulled out the article, and started really stressing because it was super fricking long. I couldn’t even read it in an hour, much less write a paper on it. But some student before me had left all these notes in the margin and totally outlined it! This guy knew what he was doing, too. So I wrote the damn thing without even reading the article and finished by about 9:10. Then I ran to my class, and the T.A. hadn’t even shown up yet. He walked in two minutes later and I turned it in like I’d done it in advance. Sometimes I think I lead a charmed life.

March 1, 1990

I’m completely broke. Go figure. S— always sent me my monthly support check, but now that she left my dad, I haven’t been getting it. I guess he figures since his wife left him and he’s all full of woe, he shouldn’t have to support his son anymore. My mom’s on vacation in Hawaii and forgot to send a check before she left. [My parents’ divorce settlement decreed that my dad would pay 5/8 of whatever I got, and my mom 3/8, but no actual total amount was specified; I was generally pretty strapped even when they didn’t forget.] So I’ve been eating nothing but pasta (with Ragu Old World sauce from a gallon can), and burritos that are just beans and tortillas—I can’t even afford cheese. And I just got my tuition bill: $550. Plus I need to get glasses because I’ve finally admitted to myself I’m totally nearsighted. I was sitting in the front row in a lecture and asked the prof to focus the overhead projector, and everyone around me was like, “Dude, it’s totally in focus.” But I guess I’ll have to keep squinting until I start working this summer. Man, how did I get here? And how will I get out?

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albertnet Pledge Drive!

Introduction

Wait, don’t leave! I know there’s almost nothing more annoying than a pledge drive, and when I was a kid and some damn telethon came on the TV, my brothers and I would almost injure ourselves diving for the channel-changer knob. But this is different! For one thing, you weren’t about to passively enjoy a bland visual spectacle on this page anyway. Also, albertnet needs you and time is running out! (Okay, it’s not—it never is—but still.)

I’ve been doing this blog for over seventeen years and I’ve barely asked readers for anything. So it’s time for you to step up. Don’t worry, I don’t want your money (not that I’d turn it down). Instead of asking for money, I’m asking for other pledges. Consider the words of Don Corleone: “Someday, and that day may never come, I’ll call upon you to do a service for me. But until that day, accept this justice as a gift on my daughter’s wedding day.” Okay, so neither of my daughters is getting married, but I’m tired of waiting around. So I’m calling on you to make a pledge to me: maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon—and for the rest of your life. (My pledge to you: that will be the last cinematic reference of this post.)

Why support albertnet?

How much do you pay for the cable TV that mainly shows you stuff like depressing documentaries of hoarders, or grisly footage of women’s cage fighting where at some point they’re too tired to continue jumping around and throwing punches or kicks and they’re just sprawled on the mat, one woman grinding the other’s face into it, and you feel terrible watching but can’t take your eyes off of it? And how much do you pay for carry-out  coffee that is so boiling hot it scalds the roof of your mouth so you don’t enjoy your next overpriced restaurant meal? If you could work off the credit card debt that these indulgences create, just by adjusting certain lifestyle behaviors, wouldn’t you do it? And wouldn’t those adjustments be even better served supporting a blog that has educated and entertained you for seventeen years without making you feel bad about society and yourself?

Where else but albertnet are you going to get the definitive spelling of “kindergart[e]ner,” with a deep investigation of who spells it how, and why? What other blog has done justice to thorny topics like bicycle inner tubes and Presta valve locknuts? Who else but I would deliver a biting critique of our national anthem? And if you’re contemplating a vasectomy, what other blog could possibly answer your every question, and in such vivid detail?

Sure, you probably think of albertnet as an infinitely renewable resource—but like all renewable resources, it takes wise use and careful stewardship to keep it flowing. Maybe you think that once was enough, that time you anonymously commented, “If somebody wants expert take on the main topic of blogging next I advise him/her to go to this site, continue the fussy job. car locksmith Dallas.” Or maybe you can’t even remember the last time you supported albertnet. Well, if you can’t remember, it’s probably been never. Think about that, and not just from a semantic viewpoint.

Now, before you make some BS excuse for yourself and close this page, hold up a second because you’re probably deploying one of the classic fallacies people conveniently maintain about pledging:

1. I can’t remember the URL
2. Our taxes pay for albertnet, don’t they?
3. Someone else will do it
4. I can’t afford to make a pledge
5. Blogs are free, aren’t they?

Let me briefly refute each of these in turn. My own dad couldn’t remember the URL to this blog, and when a friend asked him for it, he said he hadn’t bothered to bookmark it because my posts are too long and he didn’t have time to read them. Well, you know what? He’s dead now. Is that what you want? Look, you’re here. You got here. Nice try. Moving on to the second excuse, I don’t get any funding from the federal government, and in fact, thanks to that tax-and-spend liberal we’ve got in the White House, I usually owe every April. As for excuse #3, “someone else will do it,” you know in your heart that’s not true—nobody supports albertnet and most of the time nobody even reads it. Almost the only praise I ever got was for a race report I ghost-wrote for a teammate; thinking this teammate had written it, two members called it the “best race report of all time.” When they discovered I was the actual writer, the praise ended instantly. Moving on to “I can’t afford it,” I’m not asking for money. And this last excuse, “blogs are free, aren’t they?” is patently false—I have to pay for my domain names, and then there’s the blood, sweat, and tears that go into every post. (Yes, I am literally bleeding and crying right now, and probably have BO.)

Now that you’ve moved past this foolish knee-jerk reaction and want to help, I’ll tell you how—and more importantly, I’ll explain what’s in it for you.

Membership tiers

Look, making a pledge is really its own reward, and you’ll feel different after you pledge—better involved, and more important, not like a bystander anymore but like an owner. Still, we could all use a leg up socially … I get that. Therefore, I am hereby establishing albertnet membership tiers to richly reward your engagement. Consider which of these you’re in a position to achieve.

Friend – This is the entry level. And this isn’t “friend” as in “Facebook friend”—I’m not going to abuse your privacy, spam you, or get into that ridiculous quid pro quo of liking your post so you have to like mine back. I’m talking about real friendship. I will take a bullet for you—not a real one, but a metaphorical one, or maybe even one of those rubber bullets if you find yourself in the mêlée of a peace rally gone sour. If you reach this tier, I will mention you at the bottom of this post in the special Honor Roll section. (Terms and conditions apply. Void where prohibited.)

Supporter – This is a little more serious, like a 5-series BMW instead of the tacky entry-level 3-series. You’ll begin to establish yourself as a person who can be counted on, not just a dabbler. Members of this tier will be listed in the Supporter section of the Honor Roll, which will be reachable via a hyperlink I’ll put at the bottom of every albertnet post for the next year!

Patron – This will cement your public persona as a person who has a little weight to throw around, but not in a bodily way or anything—I’m talking gravitas. Given the rich heritage of albertnet as a premier journal of professional cycling, you’ll also gain status through the widespread connotation of the term “patron” in the pro peloton. Patrons of albertnet will be listed in Honor Roll and get to include a profile picture (which can be of themselves, their avatar, their pet, or their brand logo).

Cornerstone member – This is the kind of reader I can really count on, who lives and breathes albertnet’s coda and mantra every day with undiminished passion. And what is the coda? If you’re this kind of member, you already know. And the mantra? It’s “I … WILL … NOT … LOSE … EVER.” As a Cornerstone Member you will be featured in the Honor Roll with a short video selfie of yourself (embedded YouTube or GIF format, your choice!) delivering any non-political, non-profane, non-copyrighted message or interpretive dance you like.

Baller – This one speaks for itself as the very highest membership tier of this, or any, blog. In addition to getting an Honor Roll video, Ballers get their profile photo or logo featured on the albertnet masthead for three months! Whoa!

(Note: if you’re shy, but still want recognition, I can use your first name and last initial, or just your initials, or your nickname, or a pseudonym, or a code name … whatever you want!)

What you’ll pledge

Anonymous readers are encouraged to pledge self-directed behavioral changes for their own benefit and the warm, sanctimonious feeling of self improvement. While no profile attainment is involved, these are surefire ways to become a better person. But if you want to achieve one of the prestigious albertnet membership tiers with all the benefits that entails, read on to see what specific changes you can make, and how high you can get! Some  of these require only a simple pledge (emailed to me here) while others require specific action that you can report to me once completed.

Friend

• Delete your Meta account.
• Pledge to switch to drinking non-alcoholic beer at least some of the time.
• At the gym, don’t sit there on the machine looking at your phone between sets.
• Pledge to swear off microwave popcorn forever, since air poppers are cheap and work so well.
• Pledge to swear off aerosol whipped cream since a whisk does a great job whipping fresh cream.
• Pledge to throw away your Keurig machine.
• Pledge to consider the environmental impact when you use GenAI.
• Pledge to never purchase, accept, or otherwise trade in cryptocurrency.
• Pledge to switch from SMART goals to DUMB goals  as described in these pages.
• If you’re over fifty and haven’t had your first colonoscopy, do that immediately.
• Try writing a sonnet.
• If you have a child applying to colleges, read this post and help your child understand that all the paranoia about college acceptance rates, etc., is overblown.
• Switch from oil to a wax-based chain lube for your bike.
• If you’ve always held out for wild salmon, get over yourself and try out responsibly farmed salmon with guidance from this post.
• Pledge to be more compassionate with yourself.

Supporter

• Delete your Meta account with the parting message (i.e., reason for leaving), “Zuckerberg is an asshole and Meta can gargle my balls.” (This is the sign-off I used after deciding the utility of WhatsApp didn’t justify supporting this evil company.)
• Pledge to abide by my AI-themed new year’s resolutions described here.
• If you don’t have a library card, get one.
• Pledge to never pressure your offspring in any way to major in any STEM subject. Note: subtle hints count as pressure!
• Pledge to be completely evasive whenever somebody asks you what you do for a living. You can tell them, for example, “I’m a vegetarian,” and if they say, “I mean for work,” you can reply, “Yeah, I guess it’s a lotta work.” And so on.
• Pledge to drink your coffee black from now on, and with no sugar.
• Pledge to take better care of your teeth.
• Read the post Undeterred: A Critique of a Book About Life Without Free Will and, if you agree with that post, leave a comment below the post saying so.
• Try writing a Kroopian poem (i.e., in dactylic trimeter); you can check out this one for inspiration.
• Develop a Family Internet Use Policy and pledge to enforce it.
• Pledge to develop, configure, and use a “firewall for your mind” as described here.

Patron

• If you are a cyclist interested in helping kids, register with NICA, take the required training, and join a high school mountain bike team as an assistant coach.
• Next time you travel on vacation, take a train instead of flying.
• Switch from disposable razors to a proper old-school razor that takes double-edged blades.
• Visit the Velominati website listing “The Rules” and post a comment pointing out that most of these rules are silly (or whatever you wish to say) and include this link in your comment: https://www.albertnet.us/2014/05/velominatis-rules-brilliance-or-bs.html

Cornerstone member

• If you struggle with smartphone addiction, switch to a basic flip phone (aka feature phone) such as this one or something similar, and get rid of your smartphone so you won’t go back.
• If your email inbox is currently and perennially a mess, achieve Inbox Zero and pledge to maintain it.

Baller

• Switch from the QWERTY keyboard layout to Dvorak. Click here for details.

The albertnet Honor Roll

Here’s where I list the Friends, Supporters, Patrons, Cornerstone Members, and Ballers! If you don’t see anything below, you got here too early. Get going on your pledge(s) and maybe you’ll be among the first listed!

Friends

Your name could be here!

Supporters

Who’ll be the first?

Patrons

Can you imagine your profile pic or logo here? Wouldn’t that be amazing?

Cornerstone Members

Who will reach this exalted teir?

Ballers

Will anybody survey the blogosphere from this magnificent summit?

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Email me here. For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.