More and More Filipinos Are Choosing to Go Child-Free and It's Pretty Clear Why

Settling down and starting a family used to be the ultimate ideal in life. Get a stable job, marry somebody nice, have tons of babies—it’s a tale as old as time, championed by those old-timey kiddie storybooks, social norms, and popular young adult fiction. Parenthood was supposed to be the single most significant thing a person can achieve, the prime indicator of a fulfilled life, the default option. Or at least it used to be. 

More and more people are embracing the decision to go child-free. Studies have validated this, too. As a matter of fact, the Philippines is actually going through something called a demographic transition, a change in size, age structures, and economics caused by declining birth rates. In 2020, the Commission on Population and Development (Popcom) recorded the lowest number of babies born in 34 years. The number of children ages 15 years old and below also witnessed a significant drop, from 37 percent of the population in 2000 down to 30.7 percent in 2021. 

Now, there are a myriad of reasons behind the newer generations’ reluctance to have kids, not that they ever need to rationalize it in the first place. For some, it can be a purely economic one (raising kids in this economy? No, sir). Sometimes, in a simpler sense, some of us just don’t vibe with the idea of being parents. 

Contrary to popular belief, it isn’t something that they just do out of selfishness, or even out of spite of longstanding traditions, or for the LOLs. Millennials and Gen Zs are merely looking at child-rearing from a perspective fitting the times they live in. 

A Sensible Approach to Child-Rearing 

Bringing a child into this world inevitably affects society at large. 

It’s one more person to leave a carbon footprint on a decaying planet. It’s one more person to consume earth’s rapidly-dwindling resources and one more person to be protected by an unreliable justice system and one more person to endure the shortcomings of a “democratic” landscape. This harsh description of an innocent child’s life may be condemnable, but it’s unfortunately the dreadful reality in an overpopulated country like the Philippines. Take a look around; the evidence is everywhere. 

The rising costs of raising a child in the age of global industrialization are another factor, in addition to the fact that we live in a developing country with growing inflation rates (big yikes). Again, having kids in this economy? If you’re not born into money, then you’re likely gonna be another key cog in the wheel of capitalistic enterprise (if you aren’t already). Remember, that’s a good 20 to 25 years before a child becomes truly independent. Let’s be honest: children are high-maintenance; from basic needs like food and clothing, to healthcare, to education, to emergencies, it’s gonna cost hundreds of thousands annually.

And lastly, the infamous question: What kind of future awaits these hypothetical children? Guardian Australia Deputy Culture Editor Sian Cain paints a grim picture of it:

“If my baby were to be born today, they would be 10 years old when a quarter of the world’s insects could be gone, when 100 million children are expected to be suffering extreme food scarcity. My child would be 23 when 99% of coral reefs are set to experience severe bleaching. They would be 30 – my age now – when 200 million climate refugees will be roaming the world, when half of all species on Earth are predicted to be extinct in the wild. They would be 80 in 2100, when parts of Australia, Africa and the United States could be uninhabitable.”

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— Sian Cain in Why a generation is choosing to be child-free, 2020.

It’s a hard pill to swallow, but that’s often the way truth works. 

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Outside of these financial and environmental factors, my personal reasons for wanting to be child-free are social, too. I recall a section of An Independent Organ, one of the seven short stories in Haruki Murakami’s Men Without Women, where the narrator Tanimura talks about being childless himself: 

“In this huge world there are some beautiful, happy families where parents and children maintain a close, warm relationship—a situation about as frequent as hat tricks in soccer. I have no confidence at all that I could be one of these rare, happy parents.” 

That last sentence validated my sentiments much better than anything I have read about this subject before. It’s fascinating, the way a lot of parents react when you deliver the news that you’re pregnant. “Congratulations! I hope you’re ready for sleepless nights and having no time for yourself.” But when it’s all said and done, they tell us, having children is an incredible thing. “We wouldn’t have it any other way!” It always sounded like a well-rehearsed sales speech. Call it a pyramid scheme then.  

People often react in passive-aggressive, self-righteous ways when you tell them you don’t want kids. “You’ll change your mind eventually;” “Your life will be empty and miserable;” “You’ll regret it in the end.” I’m guessing it’s because there’s this exaggerated assumption that people who decide to go child-free hate children. This is almost never the case, by the way. Frankly, my mind is set on this decision not because I totally hate kids, but because I don’t totally love the idea of being a mother. 

I will make countless major decisions throughout my lifetime, but out of all of them, having a child might be the only irreversible one. I can quit a job, move to a new country, or annul a marriage, but I cannot reverse a pregnancy. There are no do-overs in raising a child. Motherhood, to me, means sacrificing parts of myself I will never be ready to give up. I’m a firm believer that women are more than capable of assuming multiple roles throughout their lifespans. But the thing is, society makes it almost impossible for us to do so. 

We still live in a time where expectations and standards for mothers are unjustifiably harder. Not to make it a feminist thing (I will, though), but the world is largely biased. It forgives fathers for being absent and irresponsible while condemning mothers for the slightest faults. 

The choice, therefore, always seems to boil down to family versus self-fulfillment. 

 

I’m aware of how self-absorbed this all sounds. But I would gladly accept being called a self-absorbed person, instead of being labeled a resentful parent, or worse, a neglectful one. 

People who weren’t equipped to become parents—for whatever reason—pass down generational trauma and suffering to their children. It’s not exactly an unfounded theory. The good thing about millennials and Gen Z-ers is that we’re growing up with an increasing recognition of these toxic patterns. We’re hell-bent on breaking the cycle. As we should. 

The burden of proof should not be on the childless to justify why they chose that path, but rather on aspiring mothers and fathers, who should justify what entitles them to be one. So unless someone can provide a loving and nurturing environment for children (because they deserve no less than that), the default must be not to have them at all.

I write this not to persuade people to forego their plans, nor to influence others who are still conflicted about the decision to say no. This piece is a rejection of all the misconceptions, ones that continue to haunt those who lead a child-free life. Most importantly, it’s an attempt to make more people, especially older generations (let’s not get into the “OK, boomer” thing), view the act of reproduction from perspectives outside the norms they grew up with.