We exist because people couldn’t keep their lust under control. That’s the ugly foundation underneath all the sentimental language about “the miracle of life.” Strip away the Hallmark cards, the baby showers, the family photos, the talk about love and legacy, and you’re left with a primitive, biological impulse that people have spent millenia dressing up as something profound. Keep it in your pants.

You don’t need to obey every impulse that crawls out of your animal brain. Hunger doesn’t mean you should eat everything in sight. Anger doesn’t mean you should beat the shit out of someone. Sexual desire doesn’t mean you have to act on it.

Yet sex is treated as practically sacred. People will defend their right to indulge it as though refusing to satisfy a urge were some kind of oppression. We’ve built entire industries around stimulating it, advertising around it, and social expectations around it. Then we’re surprised when the consequences arrive. One of those consequences is another human being.

A human being who never asked to exist.

A person who will eventually experience pain, fear, loneliness, illness, grief, disappointment, aging, and death because two people decided that satisfying their sexual desires was worth creating them. And we call that “love”?

I don’t find the impulse particulaly noble. I find it primitive. I find it reckless. I also find the culture worship of it bizarre. You are not entitled to create a person simply because your body wants something.

The unborn don’t need sex. They don’t need parents. They don’t need a childhood, a career, a mortgage, a retirement plan, or a place in society. They don’t need any of it. They aren’t sitting somewhere and waiting for someone to give them existence. There is no tragedy in someone never being born. However, once you create them, there is no way to guarantee that their life won’t become a tragedy. And for what? Because you were horny? Because you wanted intimacy? Because you wanted to feel loved? Because you wanted someone to call you Mom or Dad? Control yourselves.

Not every desire deserves to become an action. Not every biological impulse deserves obedience. And certainly not every sexual impulse deserves to culminate in the creation of another human who will spend decades paying the price for a decision they had no part in making.

Sex isn’t sacred.

Reproduction isn’t a moral achievement.

Existence isn’t a gift simply because someone wanted the pleasure that preceded it.

Keep your genitals in your pants. Someone else’s entire existence may depend on it.