Parenting is not a Market-Based Activity

Technology Thursday

Are you child-free, childless, a parent, or some other category? Recently I was reading a review by Cory Doctorow of Chris Anderson's new book Free: The Future of a Radical Price. I also stumbled across a blog controversy over the terms childless and child-free. Kim at Moms at Work posted a rantlet claiming no one should claim to be "child-free." The two topics struck a weird chord in my head.

First, the blog controversy. On the merits I think Kim is totally wrong; declaring that people's thoughtful self-descriptions and preferred labels are not appropriate is arrogant and uncivil (think about the terms "gays", "queers", "African-Americans", "feminists", "womanists", and so on). But some in the infertility blogging community were completely (and I think rightfully) offended. And as you'd expected there were some fireworks in the comment threads.

Online (and sometimes off) there is often tension between child-free zealots and passionate (some would say overly-passionate) parents. I feel like I can at least sort of understand each of these communities because for a long time my husband and I belonged to the child-free camp (although I think we were pretty 'live and let live about it' as opposed to zealots.) And, now we have a 14-month-old son. While I wouldn't say we are passionate about parenting per se we are definitely pretty passionate about him.

One part of the child-free analysis often comes down to a discussion of return-on-investment. My husband and I often spoke in these terms when talking about whether or not to have kids. We're both extremely analytical people and for a long time, for us, when we would list the pros and cons, the ROI was simply not there. Until I was pregnant, we decided to stay pregnant, and then it didn't matter anymore.

Now, of course, parents (at least the good ones) will say that the joy that comes from kids is priceless and human reproduction and parenting just can't be discussed in those terms. This brings me to the Doctorow review. I've mentioned Anderson's book before. Doctorow takes issue, persuasively so, with Anderson trying to shoehorn everything into a market-based analysis:

Though Anderson celebrates the best of non-commercial and anti-commercial net-culture, from amateur creativity to Freecycle, he also goes through a series of tortured (and ultimately less than convincing) exercises to put a dollar value on this activity, to explain the monetary worth of Wikipedia, for example.

And there is certainly some portion of this "free" activity that was created in a bid to join the non-free economy: would-be Hollywood auteurs who hope to be discovered on YouTube, for example. There's also plenty of blended free and non-free activity

But for the sizeable fraction of this material – and it is sizeable – that was created with no expectation of joining the monetary economy, with no expectation of winning some future benefit for its author, that was created for joy, or love, or compulsion, or conversation, it is just wrong to say that the "price" of the material is "free".

The material, is, instead, literally priceless. It represents a large and increasing segment of our public life that is conducted entirely for reasons outside the marketplace.

It just struck me that parenting is one of those things that belongs in the list of things people devote their time to entirely outside the marketplace. When I was pregnant (or maybe it was shortly after my son was born--it's all sort of hazy) I wrote in an email to someone that choosing to become a parent was a fundamentally optimistic thing to do. I am not by nature an optimist, so it was a bit of a foreign headspace for me to be in. But in my mental shift from childfree to parent, I also had to shift from the ruthlessly analytical approach I take to most (not all, but most) aspects of my life to an approach based on unfounded optimism. This optimism was both for the immediate present (that things would basically be ok with the pregnancy and infant) and for the future (that we will do right by our son as he grows and also that the planet won't be completely unlivable when he's, say, 30.)

Sustaining that fundamental optimism--the existence of which surprises me to this day--was and continues to be a "growth opportunity" for me. Our optimism has been rewarded so far, in that we have been incredibly lucky with our son. Just the other day we received unsolicited tales of him demonstrating compassion and kindness to his classmates [yep; inserted some kid-bragging there!], characteristics that are much more challenging to ensure, as parents, than is the task of simply keeping him in one piece. But I recognize that luck plays a big role and that not everyone's optimism is so rewarded. (Just read any of the infertility bloggers linked to from Stirrup Queens to be reminded of that.)

But I am still far too analytical to ever do what the author of the Moms At Work piece did. And I still sympathize with the child-free crowd--not, mind you, because we regret having our son. But because it is a thought process that makes sense to me, even though we ultimately chose a different path. Not everyone needs to be a parent, no matter how rewarding some (but certainly not all!) aspects of childrearing may be. My child has added immeasurably to our lives, but that certainly doesn't mean that I think anyone who doesn't parent is "missing out." Besides, most of my child-free friends make great ~Aunts and ~Uncles for my little guy!

Comments

[Katherine]

What a thoughtful post -- as someone who has always wanted to be a mother, it's interesting to hear the perspective of someone formerly on the "child-free" path. I agree with you that some human activities can't be shoehorned into a market-based philosophical framework. For instance: love, spiritual faith...

[Pamela]

Kim's post offers a great example that all parents can learn from. Her post, I agree, was not intended to offend. Just as similar comments I heard from friends, family and colleagues that cut me to the bone weren't either. Why is it that society rarely if ever considers just how offensive such casual commentary like this from parents truly is?

The visceral responses are due in large part to the startling prejudice and indifference that couples without children face. Five years ago when I was first struggling to accept that I never could create a child with the man I love I, too, would have written an angry response. Now I simply want parents to understand that appearances (e.g. a couple without children and how they got that way) aren't always what they seem. This was so important to me that I spent several years reliving my infertility nightmare to write an honest and at time absurd account of what it's like for couples in my situation. The book is also for those who care enough to want to understand. I want my nieces and nephews -- and everyone else's children -- to live in society that has greater sensitivity and less prejudice.