Selfish, Shallow, and Self-Absorbed by Meghan Daum

Selfish, Shallow, and Self-Absorbed: Sixteen Writers on The Decision Not To Have Kids by Meghan Daum
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The idea that people who choose not have children are selfish has always been completely preposterous to me. I have two children I completely love and adore, but the reasons I chose to have them were (in my opinion) "selfish, shallow, and self-absorbed" even if the actual raising of them sometimes requires saint-like patience and sacrifice. That is, I desperately wanted my own kids, my own family, little me's to shower with affection. In contrast, I think people who adopt or even those who don't have children, are way less selfish and shallow. Especially since our overpopulated planet is basically on fire now. (Sorry fellow moms, it's not a judgment on you, it's a judgment on myself.) And furthermore, I desperately want my own children to give me grandchildren one day- even at the potential cost to some of their own happiness- how's that for selfish? Additionally, my own mother seemed - quite the opposite of me- a somewhat reluctant mother. So I was very receptive to this collection, and it went beyond the ideas that I already held, enriching my overall view of other people's decisions of whether to have kids or not.

I especially enjoyed "Maternal Instinct" by Laura Kipnis which is a really interesting feminist take on the decision not to have children; "Be Here Now," by Lionel Shriver which highlights some of the racist and cultural motivations in the perpetuating the idea of reproduction in particular countries; "The Most Important Thing" by Sigrid Nunez which explored the time when having children was often a misfortune; "Over and Out" by Geoff Dyer, and “The End” by Tim Kreider. I also noticed a thread of a number of writers who felt unsatisfied with their own childhoods.

Though I noticed that for such highly intellectual and often atheistic arguments, the women in these essays never doubted the importance of the "work they wanted to do." Geoff Dyer touched on this issue a little and Tom Kreisler addressed it more directly: in a nihilistic universe, what value does your work have? Hypothetically, if we are a bunch of bacteria on a rock hurtling through space, then the value of our work probably isn't in any discernible way more significant than any other particular experience including the experience of being a parent. On the other hand, if there's a God (and maybe even if there's not) and an understanding of deep sacrificial love is the greatest earthly value or experience then maybe they're missing the mark? The authors of the essays are all professional writers so they all have work to do which is imbued with spirit in a way that many other people's jobs are not. So maybe the sacred nature of their work particularly skews their view of this issue. But for example, what particular value is Randall L. Stephenson or Michel Combes providing to the world as the CEOs of ATT and Sprint respectively? None that I can think of. But I get it, if it's your heart's passion is to be a CEO, rather than to be a parent, and as a woman, you think that being a parent will get in the way of your CEO dreams, you should do you.

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