Selfish Reasons to Have More Kids: Why Being a Great Parent Is Less Work and More Fun Than You Think

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Selfish Reasons to Have More Kids: Why Being a Great Parent Is Less Work and More Fun Than You Think Page 20

by Bryan Caplan


  BRYAN: Care to walk us through the main steps as you understand them?

  IVAN: Sure. You begin by claiming that parents are only slightly less happy than the childless—and you’ve got statistics to back you up.

  BRYAN: Right.

  IVAN: Then you point out that parents today hold themselves to much higher standards than they used to. You’ve got hard data for that, too.

  BRYAN: So far, so good.

  IVAN: Then you recommend ways for parents to make their lives easier—with nothing more than common sense to back you up?

  BRYAN: Time diaries confirm that parents enjoy an hour of recreation more than an hour of child care. But I haven’t run a big experiment showing that parents become happier when they spend more time doing things they enjoy. Seems like a lot of work to prove the obvious.

  IVAN: That’s the first weak link in the chain. Your next big step is all the twin and adoption research, which supposedly shows that parenting doesn’t matter.

  BRYAN: You’re overstating my case. What twin and adoption research shows is that parenting matters a lot less than most parents think.

  IVAN: You don’t actually measure “what most parents think,” do you?

  BRYAN: Nope. Twin and adoption research clearly goes against the grain.

  IVAN: You don’t directly measure parenting styles either?

  BRYAN: Twin and adoption studies rarely bother. One of their main advantages is that they capture all the effects of parenting.

  IVAN: Still, it’s conceivable that some rare parenting strategies are highly effective.

  BRYAN: “Magic bullets” are theoretically possible, but I see no reason to believe they’re real. In any case, suppose we knew that some magic bullets were out there. What good would that do for parents until we actually pinpoint them? Existing research, in contrast, already offers a life-changing lesson: Downtrodden parents can end many painful sacrifices guilt-free.

  BECKY: Enough already. Suppose we grant Bryan everything. How would any of this show that women should turn themselves into baby factories?

  IVAN: I’m pretty sure he never said that.

  BRYAN: You’re a good listener, Ivan. To repeat, my claim is that parents should have more kids than they originally planned. I never said, “Whoever has the most kids, wins.”

  BECKY: Then why do you have so much respect for Mary? What’s so great about moms with five kids?

  BRYAN: Mary’s doing the world a favor. Her five kids make the world a better place, and she deserves our gratitude. But that’s not central to my argument. Want to wrap this up, Ivan?

  IVAN: Sure. The last step in your argument is that the “price” of high-quality kids is less than parents imagine, so selfishly speaking, they should buy more.

  BECKY: Are you going to let him get away with that, Ivan?

  IVAN: From a social scientist’s point of view, the last step in Bryan’s argument is the least debatable. It’s a straightforward application of what economists call the law of demand. When a store marks its merchandise 20 percent off, don’t you buy more, Becky?

  BECKY: Yes, but we’re talking about babies, not clothes.

  IVAN: The same principle applies. When stuff gets cheaper, prudence tells us to stock up.

  BRYAN: Well said, Ivan. Before you correct me, though, let me add two caveats. First, if a good is indivisible—like a car or a baby—a 20 percent price cut might not be enough to make you buy one more. Second, if you dislike a product, the price doesn’t matter. I hate pickles so much that I wouldn’t eat them even if they were free.

  Okay, now that you’ve correctly explained my argument, I’ve got one question for you: Are you convinced?

  IVAN: [laughs] Every step in your argument would require a lifetime of research to establish. You’re about to turn forty. Spend a few more centuries on this project, then ask me again.

  BRYAN: [laughs] You’re forgetting one thing: I don’t have to do the basic research myself. I’m happy to stand on the shoulders of giants.

  IVAN: Even so, you can’t see very far. None of the research you rely upon is fully convincing.

  BRYAN: Even if this were pure research, I’d say your standards are unreasonably high. And I’m not doing pure research. I’m trying to give scientifically literate advice.

  IVAN: I still think you rely too heavily on your own introspection, and not enough on science.

  BRYAN: Introspection pops up in a lot of my arguments, I’ll grant you that. When you’re giving personal advice, however, it’s okay for introspection to play a larger role than in pure research. Introspection is a great way to check whether a factor is important for you. If your introspection disagrees with mine, discount my advice. However, if your introspection agrees with mine . . .

  IVAN: Hmm.

  BRYAN: Okay, now I’ve got a challenge for you. You’re planning on having kids, right?

  IVAN: Yeah.

  BRYAN: So how do you plan to raise them? Will any of my arguments affect your decisions?

  IVAN: I guess. What you’re saying is less stupid than most of the other stuff people say about parenting.

  BRYAN: So you understand my argument, and it’s persuasive enough to sway your behavior. You know what, Ivan? Being “less stupid than most of the other stuff” is good enough for me.

  CHAT #4: KIDS AND SELFISHNESS

  CHRISTINE: You make some decent points, but I don’t like how you package them. I don’t see why selfish people would have kids in the first place.

  BRYAN: Selfish people have kids for the same kinds of reasons that selfish people buy HDTVs or trips to Japan. Maybe kids are fun, interesting, or cool. Maybe parents want a challenge.

  CHRISTINE: Fine, but what about all the drawbacks of parenthood? Why do you try to convince us to have more kids, instead of neutrally listing pros and cons?

  BRYAN: I don’t want to insult my readers’ intelligence by reminding them of the obvious. Every potential reader of this book knows that babies cry, kids cost money, and teenagers are surly. When people decide how many kids to have, I assume that they’ve already factored this knowledge into their decision. My goal is to give readers non-obvious information—and this information happens to weigh heavily in favor of more kids.

  CHRISTINE: What about the happiness research showing that kids make people less happy?

  BRYAN: I think this finding is already widely accepted. Young adults delay childbearing because they want to have fun. Parents complain loudly about their sacrifices. Television and movies aimed at adults rarely make parenting look easy.

  CHRISTINE: If it’s so obvious, why discuss happiness research at all?

  BRYAN: To lay the ground for two non-obvious points. First, the size of the effect is surprisingly small. Given all the unnecessary toil parents impose upon themselves, the measured effect of kids on well-being is better than expected. Second, it’s not hard to flip the direction of such a small effect. People can have the pride and joy of being a parent without surrendering the pride and joy of being an adult.

  CHRISTINE: Suppose I didn’t want to have kids. How would you change my mind?

  BRYAN: The book isn’t called Selfish Reasons to Have Kids—it’s called Selfish Reasons to Have More Kids.

  CHRISTINE: Yes, but one is more than zero, right?

  BRYAN: Fair enough. I guess I’d begin by asking whether the person likes kids.

  CHRISTINE: If not?

  BRYAN: I’d point out that over two-thirds of people who don’t have kids live to regret it. Then I’d drop the subject. I can’t sell air conditioners to Eskimos. If kids simply don’t appeal to you, there’s not much more to say.

  CHRISTINE: On the other hand, if I like kids, but think the price too steep . . .

  BRYAN: Then I’d give you my whole spiel: Today’s Typical Parents artificially inflate the price of kids, needlessly worry, and neglect the long-run benefits of larger families. If you avoid these mistakes, kids are a good deal.

  CHRISTINE: So you wouldn’t advise ev
eryone to have kids?

  BRYAN: Correct. If you know the facts and still don’t want kids, I’m the last person to bug you about it. However, I do insist that even unwanted children are almost always glad to be alive and make the world a better place. “I don’t feel like it” is the only solid reason to be child-free. The many variations on “unfair to the child” and “bad for the world” sound nobler but rarely stand up to scrutiny.

  CHRISTINE: This seems kind of mean, but when I go to the mall, I often think, “Some people should have fewer kids.”

  BRYAN: If the kids are future ax murderers, I’ll agree with you. Fortunately, few people are that awful. You don’t have to be a straight-A student to enjoy your life and pull your weight. You can be average. You can be well below average.

  CHRISTINE: [wincing] So you’re not worried that . . . not-so-smart people . . . are . . . outbreeding . . . smart people?

  BRYAN: Nope. I freely admit that some people are smarter and contribute more to human progress than others. But you don’t need to be smart to be a valuable human being. If a person is glad to be alive and self-supporting, we should be happy for him.

  STEVE: Still, aren’t your arguments more relevant for people who are smart, well-educated, and successful?

  BRYAN: Since you asked: Yes. Elite parents hold themselves to especially high—and therefore especially wasteful—standards.

  STEVE: So elites have more unnecessary unhappiness to lose?

  BRYAN: Exactly. If Today’s Typical Parent is making kids twice as painful as they need to be, Today’s Elite Parent might be making kids five times as painful as they need to be.

  CHRISTINE: Elite parents also have a lot more money to throw at their problems.

  BRYAN: Indeed. I’m amazed at how many elite parents with young children endure chronic sleep deprivation instead of hiring some help. Do they really think their kids won’t get into Harvard because a nanny spoke Spanish to them when they were three months old?

  STEVE: Would you add that, thanks to the power of heredity, elite parents are more likely to be pleased with their kids?

  BRYAN: That’s plausible, but I’d put it a little differently: If you’re proud of yourself and your partner, you’ll probably be proud of your kids, too.

  STEVE: So it’s about being self-satisfied, not being elite.

  BRYAN: Exactly. The science of nature and nurture says that as long as you raise your kids in a vaguely normal way, they’ll turn out a lot like you. If you want your kids to be different from you, this is bad news—and a reason to have fewer kids. As long as you want your kids to resemble you, however, this is good news—and a reason to have more kids. And how many of us don’t want our kids to resemble us?

  CHRISTINE: That’s depressing for people who want to adopt.

  BRYAN: If you’re adopting in order make a little copy of yourself, science offers little hope. However, if your goal is to make a huge difference in a child’s life, behavioral genetics has a recipe for success: Adopt from the Third World. Remember: Twin and adoption studies only show that nurture effects are small inside of rich countries. Moving a child from Third World poverty to First World comfort is a totally different story. When you rescue a child from an orphanage in China, Haiti, Romania, Bangladesh, or Malawi, you’re almost guaranteeing him a much better childhood—and a much better adulthood.

  CONCLUSION

  Ultimately, low birth rates are a cultural and ethical problem, a sign of a world-wide spiritual crisis. Having children is simply not viewed as a fulfilling life project anymore by many couples. Only when young men and women turn away from consumerism and individualism will birth rates begin to climb beyond replacement levels.

  —Michael Cook, “Clutching at Straws to Reverse the Birth Dearth”

  A DECADE BEFORE I BECAME A DAD, AN EPISODE OF DENNIS PRAGER’S talk show left a lasting impression on me. Marrying well was the theme of the day. To expose singles’ mixed-up priorities, Prager read a random personal ad that mentioned an interest in backpacking. Then he pounced. I quote from memory: “If you ever have kids, you’re not going to have any time left for backpacking!”

  The largely middle-aged audience—most of them parents, I’m sure—roared with laughter and approval. But this is no laughing matter. When we think about parenthood, we don’t picture our children’s smiling faces or a game of family dodgeball. Instead, we picture life devoid of relaxation or independence. I doubt Prager meant that kids were a bad deal overall, but it sure sounded that way. You’re having kids? Then no more backpacking for you. No more doing anything you like.

  I don’t deny that some parents immiserate themselves for their children’s sake. What I reject is the widely shared assumption that conflict between kids and happiness is unavoidable. It’s natural for antinatalists to equate the first couple of kids with servitude—and any more with slavery. What amazes me is how readily natalists agree. You’d expect them to downplay parental misery. Instead, most race to concede its inevitability—and tell us to be less calculating and selfish.

  At least to my ears, natalists’ pleas against prudence are pretty lame. Arguing against foresight with a straight face isn’t easy. Imagine the public service campaign: “You think too much. Just have a baby.” Appeals to duty are less laughable: “Your parents sacrificed their happiness to have you. Now it’s your turn.” But aspiring grandparents have tried guilt since the dawn of man. It’s hard to imagine that strangers’ nagging will succeed where relatives’ nagging failed. The child-free don’t want to sacrifice their lifestyles, and parents feel like they’ve already sacrificed enough.

  This book takes a different approach. I don’t defend acting on impulse; I’m a big fan of planning ahead. I don’t preach a duty to be fruitful and multiply; I expect sermons to fall on deaf ears. Instead, I appeal to enlightened self-interest. While kids can make their parents unhappy, the choice between kids and happiness is largely self-imposed. My goal isn’t to attack consumerism and individualism but to join forces with them—to show that kids are a better deal than they seem.

  Today’s Typical Parents aren’t miserable, but they’ve turned parenting into a chore—and act as if happier paths are impossible or abusive. They’re mistaken. Kids are not like tropical fish that only flourish in a carefully controlled environment. Twin and adoption studies find that the long-run effects of parenting are shockingly small. As long as you don’t do anything crazy, your kids will probably turn out fine. Contrary to Dennis Prager, you can be a great parent and an avid backpacker. Rather than trying to raise the perfect child, you should enjoy the journey together. Maybe your kid will turn out to be a backpacker just like you.

  If I convince you of nothing more, I’ll be happy. But since I never burned my bridges to consumerism and individualism, I can cross them to reach my conclusion. As a consumer, how do you change your behavior when a product gets cheaper or better or easier to purchase? You buy more. You go back. You tell your friends. You post a five-star review on Amazon. If kids are the product, consumer logic still applies: Buy more as the deal gets sweeter. When you make parenting less work and more fun, consumerism and individualism become reasons to have more kids—not to stop, or stop before you start.

  Books on “to be or not to be a parent” rarely have a bottom line. They list pluses and minuses but refuse to give readers a straight answer. Selfish Reasons to Have More Kids, in contrast, bears a straight answer on its cover. This raises an awkward question for me: Wouldn’t an agnostic approach show a lot more respect for individual choice than telling people what to do?

  Not really. Way back in the Introduction, I explicitly limited my advice to people who are at least mildly interested in being a parent. What do I say to people who don’t like children? Nothing. Traditional natalism, with its strong sense that everyone should bear children for the common good, is pushy. I’m not. If you know the real trade-offs yet prefer a life of speed dating and exotic travel, it’s not my place to pester you. Once you buy into the idea of kids, h
owever, I can give definite advice and respect your choices at the same time.

  I don’t claim that you should have any specific number of children. That depends on your priorities. I’m an overgrown kid at heart, so it’s no wonder that fatherhood agrees with me. Tonight I’m taking my kids to meet the author of the Scooby-Doo chapter books. How cool is that? If you’d rather taste wine at an art gallery, I can see why you’d want fewer kids than I do. Still, whatever your priorities happen to be, my arguments are reasons to have more kids than you initially planned.

  MOST IDEAS DON’T HAVE CONSEQUENCES; THESE DO

  The depressing thing about exciting ideas is that most of them go nowhere. To see your ideas in action, you often have to convince millions of your fellow citizens that they’re worth trying. In practice, that’s almost impossible. My other book, The Myth of the Rational Voter: Why Democracies Choose Bad Policies, spotlights clever reforms that the man on the street will probably never consider. Almost everyone who’s pondered a free market in human kidneys admits that it’s a great way to make sick people healthy and poor people rich, but no politician who values his career would try to sell this policy to the American public.

  If Selfish Reasons to Have More Kids convinces you, however, you don’t have to convert millions of your fellow citizens to act. If you can persuade one person—your partner—the two of you can go full steam ahead. Other parents may disapprove, but forget about them. They’re too exhausted by their own parenting to pay much attention to yours.

  If you can’t fully persuade your spouse, welcome to the club. Although my wife and I have three children together, she still thinks I’m a little crazy. That’s okay. If I expected to convert her to my way of thinking, I would be crazy. I count myself lucky to have persuaded my wife to try some of my ideas. We rarely enroll our kids in activities they don’t enjoy. We barely monitor the content of their video games. We had a third child—and finally started ignoring his 2:00 AM tantrums. If my wife thinks that any of these are her ideas, even better.

 

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