There is no end of opinion pieces proliferating the internet which decry millennials for their unique faults or puzzle over what exactly made them the way they are. Poisoned by their parents’ failures to respect life, marriage, and children, they have no real concept of what makes healthy, stable families and relationships; porn and the hookup culture is the perpetual context for their love. Dealt a losing hand, they are often understandably dragged down by apathy, immaturity, and a myopic self-centeredness. Little or no social guidance and much cultural hindrance is offered to millennials trying to climb their way out of this quagmire.
And that is why millennials are especially in need of a prolife culture. It is not just that babies in the womb deserve life, though of course they do; it is not just that abortion is the ultimate exploitation of women, though of course it is; it is that my generation needs these children who are most vulnerable, most at risk, most expendable and disposable in the eyes of the world.
Society asserts that children are to be regarded as an accessory: to be obtained, customized, or flaunted when desired, but absolutely not to be had about if inconvenient, and certainly not at the expense of other things, like careers or checkbooks, which bring more immediate gratification. This pervasive disregard for the broader value of human life has largely been adopted by my generation. Some millennials, in fact, are vehemently anti-child, opting not simply for child-free sexual relationships but demanding child-free lifestyles where children, with their noise and inconvenience and unpredictability, are forbidden to disturb the settled, manageable atmosphere of adulthood.
This is the darkest kind of ignorance about human reality. In insulating ourselves from the realities of childhood—just as, indeed, we often insulate ourselves from the realities of old age and death—we become hardened, blindly self-centered. No matter what else our interests or pursuits, such an anti-human attitude betrays a dangerously misanthropic turn of heart. If we cannot love children, we will never truly love Mankind.
Children are living contradictions to the millennial culture of cynicism and selfishness; they are both an unshakable sign of hope and a reason to keep fighting for ideals. Their innocent honesty and sense of wonder alone is a powerful antidote to the cloud of apathy that can settle around a millennial heart. Even the cries and annoyances of a baby challenge us to come out of ourselves; to pull out our earbuds, put down our phones, and attend to the needs of someone who is unable to help himself.
That is a challenge millennials especially need to hear.
Children, uniquely innocent and vulnerable, wake us to the tragedies and horrors we commit on other adults. When a child is caught in the crossfire of our petty political strife or serious worldly conflict, it shows up in one vivid flash our cruelty and hypocrisy for what they truly are. A hundred men may die in a given crisis before the world looks up from its agenda to do something about it; but the image of a toddler killed in their midst makes us stop in our tracks, reassess, question what we have done and are doing. Adults may be dying from starvation in a far-off country, and we will turn a blind eye; but the sight of a child dying from starvation is too tragic a thing for even the casual observer to really ignore.
Parenthood likewise demands that parents grow in maturity and responsibility; it challenges human vanity and pettiness. And the unpredictability or uncertainty that children bring—the personal struggle and commitment which raising them entails—is certainly something millennials need more of.
I do not mean by this that all millennials must get married and raise a family. For many this is simply a present impossibility. No, it is not only the potential millennial parents who need children in their lives. It is their millennial neighbors and siblings, their teachers and office workers, their relatives and friends. Single college students, busy young doctors and lawyers and contractors, and society at large all need children—to see them often, have them as part of their extended if not immediate families, and learn from their very existence that human life is at once both small and beautiful, needy and giving—and, most importantly, that we must bear always in mind what kind of world we will pass on, because there is a generation coming after us. These others, working in single vocations, need a world in which children are a real and powerful presence—whether or not they ever marry and make some of their own.
Neither do I mean to say that having children will instantly repair the damage done to millennials or cure them of their problems. There are, to be sure, wicked and foolish people who remain wicked and foolish after having children. This has always been the case in human society. But the transformative value of children in rooting human families, in strengthening family responsibility and morality, in shaping communities to regard the whole of human life, cannot be denied. Children challenge us to live better, more purposefully; we must blame ourselves, not children, if we fail to respond accordingly.
And what of the worst of circumstances, those truly heartbreaking situations of poverty or abuse where one is tempted to see abortion as the only way out? It is precisely those challenges which millennials deserve the chance to meet, to solve, to aid. If abortion was taken off the table for my generation, we would no longer be able to think of killing children as a “way out.” We would no longer be able to suggest abortion to struggling young mothers, shrug our shoulders, and move on. We would have to remain in the thick of it, get up to our elbows in the gritty reality of dealing with these terrible problems. We would be forced to find other solutions—or at least to really try. We would be forced to face our fears, to take on the sobering burden of responsibility for our actions and uncertainty about the future; to step up to the plate and help those who are caught in desperate circumstances, instead of offering them permanent tragedy in exchange for temporary relief, under the excuse of convenience or the veneer of compassion.
There is no life free of personal suffering. There is no life in which human fulfillment can coexist with selfishness. Children interrupt and flatly contradict these two great lies, of escapism and selfishness; lies on which many millennial lifestyles and worldviews rely. Such lies are the crutch which enables my generations’ clinging to childishness; the foundation on which our self-centeredness and apathy rest. But such lies cannot last an hour in the same room with a living, breathing human child.
Be prolife for sake of all women and children; but also, let’s be prolife for sake of the millennials.