In the year 2084 birth was no longer a right; it was a privilege earned through argument. The Global Rebalancing Accord had made it law: before anyone could conceive a child, they had to defend the decision before a council of judges. A Procreation Thesis was required–minimum fifty pages, peer-reviewed, complete with ethical citations and projected environmental impact report.
They called it The Great Pause. The birth rate dopped so sharply that entire industries collapsed overnight: toy companies, children’s television, suburban housing developments. People had to ask themselves a question that had never been asked before, not seriously: Why bring another life into this world?
Julia had spent six months writing her thesis. It was called “Replenishing Wonder: A Case for Ethical Renewal Through Parenthood.” She cited studies on human empathy, argued that carefully planned upbringing could forge more compassionate generations. Her bibliography spanned philosophy, biology, environmental science, and obscure treatises on the metaphysics of suffering. She even included a footnote quoting Albert Camus: “Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken.”
Her defense was scheduled for a Tuesday afternoon in a pale marble building called the Bureau of Intent.
The judges–three gray-suited scholars and one AI adjudicator–read her thesis in silence. Occasionally, the AI blinked its cold blue eyes as it processed her arguments. Finally, they asked her to stand.
“Ms. Lewis,” said one of the human judges. “You argue persuasively for the ethical upbringing of a future generation. You demonstrate awareness of resource limitations, existential risks, and psychological burdens. However, you fail to address one critical point: what gives you the right to gamble with another being’s non-consensual existence?”
Julia’s mouth went dry. She’d prepared for this.
She quoted her thesis: “Because existence, while a risk, is a canvas. It is not the guarantee of suffering or joy but the possibility of either. To deny that possibility altogether is to deny hope.”
The AI processed her words for several long seconds, then it spoke in its chilling neutral voice: “Hope is not permission.”
Thousands failed every year. Those who passed were granted a Parenthood License, good for one child. If they wanted another, they had to write a new thesis, and it had to be better than the first.
Julia failed.
She walked out of the Bureau under a blackening sky. Couples clutched each other on the steps, some sobbing, some enraged, some simply silent. In the plaza, a massive bronze statue depicted and ancient figure: a faceless mother offering a tiny child up to the stars, as if pleading. At the base of the statue were engraved the words:
“To create life is to stand trial before the future.”
Julie went home to her small apartment. She poured herself a glass of wine and opened a new document.
Title:
“The Ethics of Refusing to Create: A Defense of Non-Parenthood in an Age of Crisis.”
She smiled for the first time all day. Maybe she hadn’t failed after all.
I got the idea for this post from one of my dear friends, Scarlett (not sure how she feels using her real name online.) Go check out her blog:
https://mammonelleblog.wordpress.com/
Sisyphus Shrugged 
Thank you for the lovely compliment!
There are many things people don’t think about when they breed, most of the time they are dealing with something that is lacking in their life, which they think a child will fill. To me that seems to be an utter lack of empathy, at best.
We do, as a whole “gamble with another being’s non-consensual existence”, the miserable, or disillusioned, or empty or just plain hopeful parents hope to hit a cosmic lottery with a child’s life. How often does that come off well?
Look at the rich, successful, the powerful, none of them are happy either, what chance does anyone stand. I can see why religious organisations find success with the idea of this life being a test for a reward in an afterlife, that’s quite a carrot to dangle in such a hostile place.
People often make jokes about how harsh the environment is in the world’s underpants and how we are crazy to live here with everything trying to kill or eat us. It’s exactly the same in every environment on Earth, it’s just most of our monsters are dressed as themselves.
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“Look at the rich, successful, the powerful, none of them are happy either…”
I think you hit the nail on the head with that one. Apartheid Clyde has more money than God and that didn’t satisfy him enough so he thought, “I’ll give politics a go.” Same with Bezos. “I have almost as much money as God, but I want to be a space cowboy.” They’re just fucking bored and miserable. All that money and they don’t have better shit to do.
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Years ago I listened to ‘The History of Rome Podcast’ by Mike Duncan, when things like that were free. (I did find a free version on youtube if you are interested – https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLmhKTejvqnoOrQOcTY-pxN00BOZTGSWc3 )
It’s a pop history of what populist politics did to an empire. The weird thing about history is that the same people appear over and over, someone makes it, then someone turns up and thinks they are there by the will of the god(s) wheels fall off the cart or wankpanzer.
Mad people buy off some sport or endeavour to appear heroic, countries get invaded, genocides become a ‘good thing’, inflation happens. Insane people end up with absolute power.
Everything ends in tears and tyranny. A void opens up and another empire fills the gap, rinse and repeat.
Clyde and Bezos were bound to happen, nothing is ever enough for a spoilt bored childman. The only way to get off the wheel is to break it, which requires people to be educated as well as active participants in this, that can’t happen with states that we have at the moment.
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