If the World is So Evil…

… why bring children into it?

We live in an age of relentless pessimism. People openly describe the world as corrupt, violent, exploitative, collapsing. Climate catastrophe is treated as inevitable. Political institutions are widely regarded as illegitimate or captured. Economic systems grind people down while enriching a few. Mental illness is endemic. War is normalized. Surveillance is constant. The future feels smaller than the past.

And yet, in the midst of it all, bringing a child into the world is treated as a moral good — often as the highest good — beyond question or critique.

This deserves examination.

If you sincerely believe the world is dangerous, unjust, and spiraling toward catastrophe, then procreation is not a neutral act. It is a decision to expose a new, defenseless person to conditions you already recognize as harmful. We should not knowingly drop a child into a burning building and call it hope. We should not place someone in a collapsing system and call it love. But when it comes to existence itself, the moral scrutiny vanishes. Why?

Because reproduction is culturally insulated from ethical analysis. It is framed as instinct, destiny, or sacred duty rather than a choice with consequences. Once an act is treated as “natural,” we stop asking whether it is just.

A child does not consent to being born. That is unavoidable. But what follows from that fact is rarely taken seriously. Once someone exists, they are compelled to participate in a system they did not choose: they must labor, obey laws, endure illness, suffer loss, and eventually die. Even the best possible life includes fear, grief, and pain. The worst lives include exploitation, abuse, hunger, and despair.

Crucially, non-existence deprives no one, while existence exposes someone to harm. This is a moral asymmetry people are deeply uncomfortable acknowledging, because it challenges one of our oldest assumptions: that life is always a gift. But a gift is something you can refuse. Existence is not.

“But they’ll make the world better!”

This is the most common defense, and it sounds noble. But it smuggles something deeply troubling into the argument. It assigns a moral burden to someone who does not yet exist. It treats a child as a future solution to problems created by adults, systems, and history. It converts hope into obligation.

If the world is broken, the responsibility to fix it belongs to those already here. Creating a new person in order to justify optimism is not hope, it is deferral. It is also a gamble. For every child who grows into a reformer, countless others will struggle to survive. Many will be crushed by the very forces they were supposed to redeem.

Another common move is to romanticize suffering. Pain becomes “growth.” Struggle becomes “meaning.” Trauma becomes “what makes us human.” This is easy to say when the suffering is abstract or belongs to someone else. But no one thanks their parents for giving them anxiety, grief, or an early death. No one looks back on war, illness, or exploitation and says, “I’m glad to endure that.” Meaning is something people construct in spite of suffering, not because suffering is good. To impose suffering without consent and then praise resilience is a moral sleight of hand.

Many people do not actively decide to have children. They drift into it. It’s what people do. It’s expected. Questioning it feels like questioning life itself, but default choices are still choices. And when the stakes involve an entire huma lifetime “I didn’t really think about it” is not an ethical defense.

Refusing to create life in a world you believe is dangerous is not nihilism. It’s moral restraint.

This argument is often misread as hatred of life or contempt for children. It is neither.

It is an attempt to take suffering seriously, to refuse to minimize it, normalize it, or pass it along out of habit or hope. It is a refusal to gamble with someone else’s pain in order to make existence feel meaningful.

If we truly believe the world is cruel, unstable, and unjust, the the most honest response may not be reproduction, but responsibility: caring for those who already exist, reducing harm where we can, and resisting the systems that make life so precarious.

Love does not require creation. Sometimes, love looks like restraint.

Elon Musk Has a Breeding Fetish and it Creeps Me Out

Let’s talk about Apartheid Clyde again. Not the genius inventor, not the Mars guy, not the billionaire memelord, but the man on a bizarre, almost dystopian crusade to impregnate the planet. At this point it’s not just “having a lot of kids.” It’s a full-blown ideology. A fetish wrapped in futurism. A techno-breeding manifesto disguised as civilization-saving.

Apartheid Clyde has at least 14 children (that we know of) with multiple women, including employees. He’s tweeted things like “population collapse is the biggest threat to humanity” and “I’m doing my part haha,” as if civilization hinges on him personally repopulating the Earth — or Mars — with his offspring. That’s not family planning. That’s legacy-building with a hint of sci-fi eugenics.

He’s literally turned human reproduction into a status symbol. It’s not about love or parenting or raising decent people. It’s about seeding the future … with himself. He thinks he’s a mythological figure tasked with restarting the species after the collapse.

It’s not subtle. He has said he believes “smart people” aren’t reproducing enough. He reportedly fathered twins with a Neuralink executive. He once called birth control a “civilization-ending experiment.” He’s flirted with the logic of eugenics while acting like he’s just being a rationalist.

In any other context, this would be horrifying. But because he’s rich and quirky, people brush it off as just another Musk-ism. But imagine any regular man walking around, telling the world it’s his moral duty to have as many children as possible because his DNA is just that important. That’s not just arrogant. That’s a fetish.

This isn’t about children. It’s about control. Power. Legacy. Apartheid Clyde talks about colonizing Mars, building superintelligence, and rewriting human history, always with himself as the central node. He doesn’t want to save the word. He wants to remake it in his image, and apparently that starts in the bedroom. He’s not trying to be your kid’s role model. He’s trying to be their ancestor.

Here’s the kicker: Apartheid Clyde doesn’t believe in collective solutions. He doesn’t trust democracy. He doesn’t care about building a better society. He wants a genetically optimized future ruled by the right kind of people: him and his kind.

And that’s why his weird, hyper-capitalist breeding campaign is so creepy. Because it’s not just personal. It’s political. It’s patriarchal. And it’s deeply authoritarian in disguise. We don’t need more Musk children. We need fewer billionaires treating the Earth — and our bodies — like a startup they can scale.

Anti-Natalism Chronicles XIV: A Return

It’s going to be hard to type this since I’m on a different computer since my Mac is being serviced at the moment so sorry for any mistakes. It’s a bitch getting used to a different keyboard when you’ve used the same one for three years now. I wanted to talk once again about anti-natalism since that’s mostly what my blog is about and one of my main beliefs as a person.

I was sitting outside just now, having my morning coffee when I started thinking about my last relationship and how it ended because she brought up the fact that she wanted children one day. We had known each other for seven years. We dated for two of those seven years. She knew how I felt about having children and at one point said she didn’t want any, either. Out of the blue one night as we were lying in bed together she said she thinks she may want them one day. “Well, you know how I feel about that. Besides, you know I’ve gotten a vasectomy so it’s kind of a done deal for me.”

No harsh words were spoken or exchanged. We didn’t argue. We just kind of decided that this was one area where we weren’t going to be able to reach a compromise. There is no compromising when it comes to children. You either want them or you don’t and I don’t.

I had always joked that every girl from my hometown was born pregnant because they either had a baby by high school (middle school in some cases) or it was the first thing that happened after high school. Practically everyone I know now has at least one child so that sucks for me as far as dating is concerned. It’s just one of those things that’s a definitive “no” for me. Kind of like anal is a definitive “no” for a lot of women. Hey, you don’t do butt stuff. I don’t like kids. I respect your decision to not do butt stuff. Respect my decision to not have children.

I don’t think I’d make a good dad anyway. It’s not like I had a positive influence in the dad department growing up so who’s to say I wouldn’t be an asshole just like my father was? I’ve also got the mental and physical health issues going on so why would I risk bringing a child into the world with said issues? That’s something I’ve never understood about people who have mental issues, emotional issues, health issues, etc. that are genetic. If they’re genetic and you know you risk passing them onto your offspring then why do you go ahead with having your own offspring? Kind of a dick move on your part.

Maybe I have more compassion than others or I give myself credit for. I don’t want to bring any children into a world such as this one; a world plagued by violence, climate change, disease, and a number of other things that could go wrong and do go wrong on a daily basis. I see commercials for hospitals for children with cancer and just think to myself if only their parents didn’t have them at all then those children wouldn’t be going through what they’re going through right now.

We all want suffering to end so shouldn’t we be stopping it before it begins? There’s no suffering in non-existence. I’ve never once met a person who didn’t exist that had cancer. I’ve never once met a person who didn’t exist that got murdered for no reason at all. Call it a coincidence if you want, but I think there’s something more to my theory here.

If you already have children then by all means, love them with every fiber of your being and take care of them to the best of your ability.

If you don’t have children then do what’s best for the children you don’t have and leave them be in whatever dimension there is before birth. All that comes with existence is suffering and eventual death and heartbreak.