Child-Free
By Barry Link, Courier Staff ReporterFebruary 20, 2002
Steinberg demanded to know if the doctor would have as many questions if Steinberg had announced he wanted 10 kids. The doctor paused, then confessed he wouldn't. Steinberg asked who he was hurting by having no children. According to Steinberg, the doctor thought about it, then booked the surgery for three weeks later. Steinberg was snipped on Valentine's Day.
Steinberg didn't set out to be sterilized at a relatively young age. Like anyone else growing up and maturing into an adult, he expected to marry and have kids. The common wisdom is that children bring joy, happiness and love and provide for one's future security. It's the natural, responsible thing to do-even a sacred duty to some.
Except that Steinberg decided it wasn't necessarily natural, responsible or sacred. A South Surrey ESL teacher and language education consultant who's published two books in his field, he concluded that after helping to raise his younger siblings, volunteering as a camp counsellor and later working as a teacher, there was no way he could be a parent and pursue the kind of career and life goals he aimed for.
The vasectomy was insurance, and it also relieved the woman he was involved with of the burden of birth control. "If you're shooting blanks," says Steinberg, whose white-bearded face seems perpetually shaded under a Tilly hat, "no one gets hurt."
Steinberg represents the articulate edge of an increasing pattern among adult North Americans. While specific Canadian statistics are hard to come by, American stats suggest the percentage of married couples choosing not to have children has doubled in the past decade to 20 per cent. Another estimate predicts one in four American women born between 1956 and 1973 will never give birth. Conventional wisdom in a child-obsessed culture says the childless should be unhappy songbirds mourning their empty nests, dragged down by feelings of selfishness and irresponsibility. But while some are wary of being scorned for going public with their choice, child-free people like Steinberg say they couldn't be happier. They're in the full flight of a very free life. Let someone else hatch the eggs.
It's the last Friday night in January and the weather outside is rain threatening to turn to snow. A small group of people, singles and couples in their 30s, 40s and 50s, is dining on smoked salmon and caribou in the dusky wood interior of the Liliget Feast House, an aboriginal-themed restaurant in the West End.
The conversation ranges from the rigours of hiking to the hazards of crossing street traffic in Pakistan. Only one topic is noticeably absent: no one is saying, "My kids ..." or "My children ..."
Finding a group of adults older than 30 who don't talk about their children is not easy, which is why Steinberg started this group, called No Kidding, in 1984. The 30 to 50 members meet for regular dinners, outdoor trips and movie nights. The Friday dinner in January is its monthly "final Friday feast." Members pay $48 a year, but non-members are welcome at most events for a marginal fee. The only stipulation is that you can't have kids.
Steinberg hit the everyone-is-talking-about-their-kids wall in his 30s. Bit by bit, his friends had children and faded from his social circle as their lives became focused on their offspring. Steinberg found keeping his friends on the phone for more than 20 minutes without interruptions from their children was impossible, and when they had time to talk, it was usually about their kids. Through their children's activities, such as sports practices and school, Steinberg's friends also found new friends with children with whom they had more in common.
"I literally felt that my friends were taking a different road in life," says Steinberg. "I felt I was running out of friends. Their lives are quite busy and my life was becoming quite empty."
No Kidding remained a local phenomenon through most of the '80s and '90s with only occasional media interest. But its profile increased when it launched a web site several years ago. Interest in what its members like to call "child-free" living also picked up considerably two years ago with the publication of American journalist Elinor Burkett's The Baby Boon, a manifesto of childless adults fed up with family and child-friendly programs offered through government and at the workplace. No Kidding has now grown into an international phenomenon encompassing 71 chapters in four countries. Clubs in the larger American cities have membership in the hundreds. Steinberg estimates three to five thousand people around the world have joined No Kidding clubs, with many non-members attending social functions. Since its founding, No Kidding has functioned as 99 per cent social club, one per cent support group. The appeal of the group is simple. "I thought I was the only one," says a woman at the Friday dinner who has come to scout out No Kidding on behalf of several childless friends. It's the type of comment Steinberg likes to hear. "I wish I had a dollar for everyone who said to me, 'I feel like the only person in the world without kids," he says.
People who join groups like No Kidding, and the vast majority of non-parents who do not, say they've looked hard at the pros and cons of parenthood and decided the negatives outweigh the benefits. Keith D'Silva, a Coquitlam crisis centre manager, joined the Vancouver No Kidding chapter with his wife last year. When he and his wife married five years ago, they tossed around the idea of children. Friends were having kids, and members of D'Silva's Roman Catholic family expected them to produce offspring. But watching what their friends and relatives went through in raising children didn't appeal to D'Silva and his wife. "[Parents] seem to be so chronically stressed," says 38-year-old D'Silva. "Their lives revolve around their children, which is fine as long as they knew what they were getting into. It seems to me that it comes mostly as a surprise to them. If they were trying to convince me to have kids, they did quite the opposite."
Because of the seriousness with which he and his wife deliberated over child rearing, he has a great deal of respect for parents, a not uncommon phenomenon for people without kids. "It's a great choice for people who have thought it through," he says. "I salute them. Kids are a great source of joy, no doubt about it."
But the apparent impulsiveness with which many people have children bothers some deliberate non-parents. D'Silva points to a Red Cross estimate that one in four Canadian children under 16 experiences emotional or physical abuse. He blames their parents for not coming to grips with their private issues.
"I think too many people walk into this lightly," says Vancouver businesswoman Regan D'Andrade. She's not a No Kidding member but is part of one of the first generations of women for whom not having children was a viable and critical choice. Once you have children, she adds, "You can't send them back."
Now 40, D'Andrade says that by the time she was 12, she knew she would never have children. "I never felt like a child. I didn't like children. I find babies kind of repulsive."
D'Andrade grew up in Kenya where the expectation that everyone will have children was more explicit than in Canada. Yet living there made her more determined to be a non-mother. D'Andrade sought a tubal legation to render her sterilized at 27, but like Steinberg, she was turned down by doctors. It wasn't until she was 37 that the surgery was finally done. She's never regretted it. "My life is extremely social. I can do whatever I want almost anytime I want."
That sense of freedom is something non-parents cherish. "I still have a full day, but when I demand quiet time, I can do that," says Jane Kavanagh, a 41-year-old airline customer service agent who is happily without children. "I will not trade that."
Non-parents say that by foregoing children, they have the freedom and energy to contribute to the community in other ways. D'Silva runs workshops on violence and abuse for teenagers through the Red Cross. In many ways, the young people he helps have become like his children, and he sees no reason to have his own. Like Steinberg, he feels he couldn't live the kind of life he wants if he was a parent. "It's a 19-year legal commitment. It's something I have to decide if I want a big chunk of my life used up in that way."
D'Silva describes his life this way: "I lead a relatively stress-free life that's full of leisure. I wouldn't have it any other way. I have a loving relationship with my wife and I have solid friendships. And I have lots of money."
But are people who don't have children selfish? If more people follow their example and don't replenish succeeding generations, will there be social and economic consequences? And who will take care of them when they grow old? Surprisingly, these issues don't worry the child-free. No Kidding is not a variety of opinions. But Steinberg, speaking strictly on his own, feels political group and doesn't do any lobbying, since its members have a wide variety of opinions. But Steinberg, speaking strictly on his own, feels passionately that the federal government should eliminate the child tax credit and tax deductions such as the one for childcare.
"The government is essentially bribing people to have children," he says. Sending a kid to summer camp is a tax deduction, Steinberg notes, but boarding his three dogs at a kennel for the weekend is not. Is he equating children with dogs? No, but Steinberg says his dogs, like many kids, "make the world a better place." He used to take one of his dogs to Mount St. Joseph Hospital to visit elderly sick patients, and they loved the visits. "If I took a toddler, they'd probably raise their blood pressure."
Doug Allen, an economist at SFU who studies the economics of the family, defends the tax credit for children as a reasonable subsidy for poorer families. Eligibility for the credit is also based on income and number of children. By the time someone earns more than $45,000 and has two children, their eligibility for the credit is basically zero. "That's not a bad policy," says Allen.
He also argues that the tax system tends to penalize families because income taxes are levied against individual, not household, incomes. When children are born, at least one spouse often stays home to take care of the children, he says, leaving a sole income earner for the household. Because income tax is progressive, a sole income earner making $60,000 a year will pay relatively more in tax than a childless couple each making $30,000 each.
Allen also points to the Canada Pension Plan, which is drawn on by retired workers but funded entirely by contributions from people currently in the workforce. Economically speaking, people who have children are contributing to the future viability of the pension fund by producing future workers who will pay into the system. People who don't have children make no contribution.
"My children get to subsidize their retirement," says Allen. "In that sense, they're free-riding on people who have kids." Steinberg's reply is quick. "We'll be paid back for subsidizing his kids' education. No need to thank me, sir, just doing my part for society."
Indeed, Steinberg and many other non-parents believe not having children benefits society and the planet. They express frequent concerns about overpopulation and its effect on the environment. "Right now, my feeling is that we have too many bipedal animals on the planet," says D'Silva. "I would be quite happy if 90 per cent of the people out there decided not to have kids."
Steinberg points to a 1998 Consumer Reports article that calculated that raising a single child adds five to eight thousand diapers to the landfill. Steinberg says he takes half a can of garbage from his home to the curb each week on garbage day. He looks down the street at his neighbours with children and sees two to five cans at their houses. "I say, holy cow!"
Kavanagh says not having children helps her avoid the excessive materialism and consumerism of Western society. No kids means not having to waste resources on Christmas presents. "There are too many demands, wants, needs," she says. "I don't want to sign on to that."
Economist Allen counters that the world is nowhere near overcrowded. One study estimates that if all the humans on earth moved to Texas, each would still have 7,000 square feet of space. And each person, Allen says, is an economic benefit because the greatest benefit to the economy is the power of the human mind.
Allen argues that children aren't all that expensive. He says that as incomes rise, people tend to have fewer children because their time becomes more costly. A lawyer earning $300 an hour loses more money attending her kid's ballet practice on a weekday afternoon than would a janitor earning $12 an hour. Indeed, the higher the incomes people achieve, the more they tend to spend money on nannies and piano teachers to take care of their kids while they work. "Kids are very time-intensive," Allen says. "And most people earn their income through their time."
The argument that having children guarantees a comfortable retirement and old age doesn't wash with most people who choose not to have children. There's no guarantee your children will look after you, says D'Andrade. Some will die before you, and families can drift apart. "I don't believe you should put that burden on your children anyway. I don't expect to be taken care of."
Even the urge to pass on one's genes or the family name to the next generation isn't shared by D'Silva, who cites a recent Discovery Channel show that revealed that humans share 99 per cent of the same DNA. "I don't see the big thing about genes. I'm only passing on one per cent."
When it comes to the family name, D'Silva-who was born in Pakistan to Catholics who trace their religious heritage to European colonization of Goa, India-points out that while he's ethnically South Asian, his first name is British and his last name is Portuguese. "I don't have any significance to a name; it's only a symbol."
Proponents of the child-free lifestyle believe their numbers are growing, and most feel they are part of a wider trend. "I think I might have been one of the pioneers," says D'Andrade. "I know a lot of people who've made the same choice, and many of them are younger than me."