I'll slot this post in here, (though it relates to a BBC radio show concerning parenting, or "intensive parenting" as it is apparently called nowadays in many western societies):
https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m001h422
More from the same man here:
https://www.theguardian.com/education/2001/jun/03/socialsciences.highereducation
Quote:
"...., as far as we were concerned, children must be free to find themselves, to make their own choices. And if this meant they dropped out and ended up as gardeners or itinerant hippies, then so be it. The only ambition I could ever remember entertaining for him had been the vague hope that in one way or another he might continue the revolt against routine, ritual and conformity. How he did that, though, was entirely up to him. 'I suppose you know better,' I said. 'You presumably know exactly what your own children are for?'
I was expecting a polemic but what I got was caution and uncertainty. He explained that, like many other people, he'd had his children more from an act of contrived carelessness than from a deeply considered decision. But having been to six primary schools and said hello and goodbye to a series of parental partners, he was determined to provide his two boys with one home, one family and one school. That, at least, was the aim but too often it felt like an unending assault course.
'The other day,' he told me, 'I had dinner with the parents of older children. I shared some of my problems with them - the exhaustions, the difficulty of balancing work and home, the impossibility of fighting the tide of computer games and gangsta rap. They were far from comforting. "You think that's bad," said one of them. "Wait until you've got surly teenagers".'
This father-son dialogue prompted us to ask others why they had become parents. The first response was often indignant. How could one even ask such a question? There were some things in life that could not be reduced to utilitarian calculation. Parenthood was intrinsically good. The value of having children surely transcended shifts in political and religious beliefs. Whatever our views, we are all capable, as Sylvia Ann Hewlett and Cornel West put it in their defence of parenthood, The War Against Parents, of being 'caught up in the miracle of birth', of being 'inspired... by the power of a small child to evoke our most sublime and selfless feelings'.
But the miracle of birth and the power of the small child to evoke such feelings need to be supplemented by more tangible, reasons for having children. This was where the problems arose. The (middle-class) parents we spoke to could not cite economic security in old age as a reason for having children but seemed equally unhappy to fall back on instinct or cultural norms. This left one alternative - they must have had children because they wanted to. They had exercised a rational choice."
(Break)
"Nobody has better captured the relationship between these disappearing forms of inheritance and the reluctance to have bring children than the French writer Michel Houellebecq in his novel Atomised : 'Children once existed solely to inherit a man's genes, his moral code and name. This was taken for granted among the aristocracy, but merchants, craftsmen and peasants also bought into the idea; it became the norm. That's all gone now. There's nothing for my son to inherit. I have no craft to teach him. By the time he grows up, the rules I lived by will be meaningless; the world will be completely different. If a man accepts this, then his life is reduced to nothing more than the sum of his own experience; past and future generations mean nothing to him. That's how we live now. For a man to bring a child into the world now is meaningless.'
We can continue to talk of children as our heirs in a more minimalist sense. They slowly understand the world through our eyes, through the stories we tell them, the examples we set. But the relative reluctance of our interviewees to talk about such initiatory pleasures suggests a growing sense that our children are not ours in the manner in which we were our parents' children.
The prospect of slowly introducing our offspring to the excitement and mystery of life has been usurped by outside forces."