In the central panel of The Garden of Earthly Delights, Hieronymous Bosch paints a society lost to debauchery and hedonism. The carnal scene warns of a society that diverges from the divine plan. Deadly sins seep into daily life. Lust and gluttony are abundant. However, one absence is striking in the scenes of sin: children. Bosch’s world is becoming a reality, not because of divine punishment—but by our own design. We now inhabit a world obsessed with pleasure, but divorced from continuity and responsibility.
Our self-idolatry and fertility crisis are hurtling us toward disaster, the very disaster that is the twisted hellscape depicted in the final panel of Bosch’s triptych. The global fertility rate has more than halved since its peak in 1963. Over the past 60 years, the average woman worldwide went from having five children to barely two. On our current trajectory, global fertility levels will dip below replacement (2.1 children per woman) within the next 25 years and sink to 1.8 children per woman by 2100. While these numbers may not seem dangerous at first glance, less than a third of the world’s population lives in a nation with birth rates currently above replacement level, and only six countries will have a fertility rate above replacement by 2100. Those six nations have a combined population of about 50 million, just 0.625% of the world’s population.
In the mid-20th century, birth rates weren’t an issue. Overpopulation was the apocalyptic concern, so governments reacted accordingly. China undertook its disastrous “one-child” policy, and India embraced a program of forced sterilization. Other countries around the world, such as Singapore and South Korea, pushed women to have fewer children. These policies were a reaction to a nonexistent problem. While the fear of overpopulation led to sweeping government interventions, it’s now the absence of people that threatens us.
Fundamentally, the decline in fertility rates across the world is indicative of social and moral decay. Modern liberalism’s most cherished values—freedom, autonomy, and choice—have slowly turned into a rejection of family and children, with devastating consequences for the future of our species.
Individualism at all costs has led to the rejection of parenthood in Western culture. Children are treated as an afterthought—attending university, exploring the world, landing a well-paying job, buying a home, and finding a loving and successful romantic partner are all necessary boxes to check before kids are even considered. David Hogg, Vice Chair of the Democratic National Committee, once tweeted he’d rather own “a Porsche and have a Portuguese water dog” than have children. This mindset—prioritizing possessions over parenthood—has become common in societies shaped by modernity’s devotion to freedom and choice.
We’ve become so enchanted with personal autonomy that we’ve forgotten our responsibilities to future generations. Among American adults under 50 who don’t have children, the majority cite “personal preference” as their primary reason. They simply “want other things more.” A view that places children in the category of “consumable goods,” like alcoholic beverages or luxury vehicles, should be unsettling.
Even in societies viewed as having more “traditional” social values, self-obsession has come to dominate. As Gideon Lewis-Kraus wrote in a recent feature in The New Yorker, Koreans cite the “costs of excessive education as a large part of their reluctance to have children.” While “cost” suggests this is a purely economic issue, it’s not. Lewis-Kraus demonstrates how Koreans’ focus on childhood development and reaching socially-defined “success” has bred a culture where Korean parents spend thousands of dollars “perfecting” their children through increasingly expensive enrichment opportunities. As a result, children have become commodified as tokens of parental achievement. The prestigious after-school programs, universities, and jobs children reach are markers not of the child’s success but of the parents’ commitment to achieving social recognition. In this sense, children are to Korean parents what a Porsche or a $4,000 dog is to David Hogg: symbols of success and prestige.
Many who forgo children, like Hogg, cite the exorbitant costs of living or lack of childcare as a major factor in their reluctance to have children. Therefore, the logical solution would seem to be investment in a welfare state that provides these things: free prenatal care, parental leave, childcare, and subsidies for parents. However, policy prescriptions alone cannot solve this problem. Sweden has eight months of paid parental leave, yet it has a fertility rate lower than the United States. Austria has free childcare, Switzerland does not—yet both nations have essentially the same fertility rate. It’s cheaper to live in Europe, but their fertility rate is still lower than America’s.
One needs a certain level of financial stability to “afford” a child. That’s true. And in many urban, professional circles, this threshold is understandably high. Parents want their children to thrive. They dream of offering every comfort: a safe home, high-quality education, music lessons, tutoring, travel sports teams, and healthy food. The intention is noble. But somewhere along the way, the bar became impossibly high. Parenthood now requires perfection. In striving to give children everything, many choose to have none. For the first time in human history, affluence breeds sterility. The culture of Western liberalism, which once empowered people to shape their destinies, now shackles them to the endless pursuit of self-optimization. Children are postponed, then priced out, then written off entirely. This is not done out of cruelty, but by a worldview that quietly replaced continuity with consumption. In the name of “freedom,” we’ve made the most human act—having children—feel like reckless extravagance.
Our descent into childless societies has a primarily cultural cause, not an economic one. If we hope to reverse our path toward a sterile, childfree future, we must reinvent our value systems. We need a cultural framework that sees the family not as an obstacle to fulfillment, but as the highest expression of it. This doesn’t mean careers or ambition no longer matter. It means they gain meaning when placed in service of something enduring. A culture that elevates the family redefines fulfillment itself—not as self-satisfaction, but as the act of building a legacy. It finds purpose in continuity, responsibility, and the humble pride of shaping the future through the children you raise.
Reversing course demands courage. It demands a willingness to reject a culture that prioritizes temporary pleasure over lasting purpose. We must begin to treat the family not as a lifestyle choice, but as a cornerstone of modern society. This means elevating responsibility above autonomy, duty above desire, and legacy above pleasure.
Civilizations thrive when they see children as the future, not just as burdens to personal aggrandizement. A cultural identity rooted in these values will not only endure; it will thrive. This blueprint will teach us to see children not as obstacles to meaning, but as its very source. If we fail to reclaim our civilization through family and legacy, we leave the door open to a future unmoored from life itself—a brave new world, rich in comfort but barren of purpose.
Featured Image Source: Museo Del Prado
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