What if I told you the decision to have children is largely influenced by your fear of death and the desire to be immortal, whether you’re conscious of it or not? Would this supposition surprise or interest you? If so, keep reading.
Literal and Symbolic Immortality
According to Ernest Becker, all human activity is driven largely by unconscious efforts to deny and transcend mortality. He set this idea out in his Pulitzer-Prize winning book, The Denial of Death. I’ve written about this book in another post on how the coronavirus pandemic gives us the chance to make peace with death.
Elaborating on Becker’s idea, the authors of the 2015 book, The Worm At The Core, say that humans try to achieve immortality in two main ways:
- Literal immortality—any efforts to beliefs that we can physically overcome our annihilation through scientific efforts to stop ageing and prevent death or religious beliefs in an eternal soul that doesn’t die with the body.
- Symbolic immortality—efforts to leave an enduring mark on the world that persists long after our own physical death.
It is with the second of these attempts to transcend mortality that this post concerns itself. Having kids enables us to continue living through our offspring symbolically. This symbolic immortality plays a huge role in every single person’s choice to have children.
Of course, not all children are born in circumstances in which there was a conscious decision made to have kids. But for those that make the choice in advance of conceiving a child, transcending death is probably the most significant and largely unconscious factor in doing so.
The most obvious way we continue living through our children is that their DNA is 50% ours. We can better come to peace with the finality of our own lives when we know that a part of us will continue physically by their very existence.
A more subtle yet equally powerful means of achieving symbolic immortality is that our kids live on through taking on our mannerisms, behavioral quirks, and personality attributes. Dads feel proud as punch when they note their kids have a particular affinity for football, not just because of the shared enjoyment. They also feel all warm inside because they see concrete evidence that a part of who they define themselves to be will live on through their offspring.
Is Having Kids Selfish?
Given the influence of our own mortal fears on having kids, the old debate inevitably arises as to whether having kids is selfish or not. Viewed through the lens of an attempt to achieve symbolic immortality, then yes, having kids is a selfish decision. You can’t come to any other conclusion if you’re honest with yourself. And I say that as someone who has a one-year-old daughter.
However, while the decision to have kids might ultimately be a selfish one, it takes enormous selflessness to raise a kid. Conceiving and delivering a child does not make a good parent. (Although I doff my imaginary cap to all mothers who go through the process of childbirth.)
It takes huge self-sacrifice for both mother and father to properly nurture their child so that they flourish and develop into independent, well-mannered, educated adults. Hectic social lives are not possible unless you’re privileged enough to afford childcare, hobbies are halted or dramatically reduced; career progression is stymied for one parent; usually the mother but not always.
To say that having kids is selfish is not to say that having kids is immoral. This distinction comes down to accepting selfishness in the face of mortal fear as an intrinsic part of the human psyche. The desire to beat death is inside all of us, and it doesn’t make us bad people that we want ourselves to continue in some way after our death.
What makes bad people is having kids and then being a shitty parent to them or not helping to raise them at all.
Human Selfishness and Context
Philosophy, from Plato’s Republic to John Locke, has argued that human beings have an inherent capacity for selfishness. As you can probably see from the above discussion, context is key. It’s typically a self-serving decision to have children, albeit one influenced heavily by the mortal fears everyone faces. But it’s a selfless act to raise your kids properly.
Not everyone has kids, of course. Many people don’t ever want to have children. Some are unable to conceive. In one way or another, though, everyone tries to achieve symbolic immortality.
Whether through military or political action, economic or scientific achievements, athletic feats, or artistic prowess, history is littered with examples of people searching for symbolic immortality in ways other than having kids.
Most of us harbour dreams growing up of becoming famous actors, musicians, football players. Modern examples of ordinary people seeking fame through YouTube channels, going viral online, and reality television shows are so plentiful, they need no further elaboration other than to say, the desire to become famous is itself a manifestation of a desire for immortality. For people to know who we are and speak about us after our deaths.
Ultimately, all humans are selfish in the context of contemplating our own deaths. But selfishness in that context is completely understandable. If the big decisions we make in life are ultimately motivated by selfishness, we can still imbue the execution of those decisions with altruism. Our scientific achievements benefit humanity, our athletic prowess entertains people, our books thrill and delight, our kids learn from us how to conduct themselves in the world.