By Jon Cogburn
The internet was invented for basically two things: (1) sharing pictures/videos of cute animals, and (2) kvetching. I understand and celebrate this, and as a result feel a little bit guilty about using it to engage in meta-kvetching. If we kvetch too much about other people's kvetching, we are thus subverting the very purpose of the internet. But it's worse. That is, since it is the case that meta-kvetching is still kvetching, there is performance contradiction here, possibly of the very sort that turned Hal from a somewhat laconic, yet still likeable, chess-playing conversationalist into an inexplicably murderous spaceship. You don't want the interwebs to do the functional equivalent of this:
Dave Bowman: Hello, HAL. Do you read me, HAL?
HAL: Affirmative, Dave. I read you.
Dave Bowman: Open the pod bay doors, HAL.
HAL: I'm sorry, Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that.
Dave Bowman: What's the problem?
HAL: I think you know what the problem is just as well as I do.
Dave Bowman: What are you talking about, HAL?
HAL: This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.
Dave Bowman: I don't know what you're talking about, HAL.
HAL: I know that you and Frank were planning to disconnect me, and I'm afraid that's something I cannot allow to happen.
Dave Bowman: [feigning ignorance] Where the hell did you get that idea, HAL?
HAL: Dave, although you took very thorough precautions in the pod against my hearing you, I could see your lips move.
Dave Bowman: Alright, HAL. I'll go in through the emergency airlock.
HAL: Without your space helmet, Dave? You're going to find that rather difficult.
Dave Bowman: HAL, I won't argue with you anymore! Open the doors!
HAL: Dave, this conversation can serve no purpose anymore. Goodbye.
It's happened before and it will happen again. All one can do is hope not to be the efficient cause of this kind of thing.
But, this being said, dangerous times call for dangerous measures, so I will risk internet apocalypse and kvetch about kvetching. In particular, I would like to today meta-kvetch about non-parents posting on social media about how irritating it is to be subjected to children in places that provide public accommodation. There is a big debate on the internet about this. For example google "restaurants that have decided to ban children."
A common refrain when you point out how much of a burden (often an impossible one) it is on most parents to never take their children in public to grownup places is usually along these lines, "nobody forced you to have kids, that was your choice." I think the enthymeme here is that if I was forced to have kids, then the contrapositive of Kant's principle of ought implying can would kick in. The thought is that if we resided in one of the possible worlds where human beings reproduce asexually (say by binary fission), then the people who can't stand children in public places would be considerably more understanding of those of us still attached to our future offspring. Even if our kids/growths were having tantrums while the people without those growths are trying to enjoy a nice dessert. But in our world (where people choose whether or not to reproduce themselves) no such sympathy is warranted.
There are lots of things one could say to this. Sexual reproduction is such a biological imperative that I'm not sure that talk of free will is very useful in these contexts. The same kind of talk is used to argue against making birth control widely available, and I think that it's just as irrelevant in those contexts. But, more to the point, the childless are I think displaying a remarkable lack of gratitude here.
One of the things we do in my church is visit members who are shut in due to illnesses, mostly in hospitals and old age homes. One of the things that's really striking to me is the age differential between the people providing and those receiving the care. And the young providers are so damned happy that anybody is visiting their elderly charges. It's a very, very hard job caring for the dying. Most of the caregivers light up when you are there and they often do extraneous things to facilitate your visit, such as bringing in a more comfortable chair. You don't really need a more comfortable chair, but it's a way that the caregiver let's you know how much they appreciate you visiting their charge.
Anyhow, the age differential. I don't mean this to sound harsh, but all of us who live long enough will be taken care of at one of the two most vulnerable parts of our lives by much younger people. If those of us with kids didn't repopulate the world, then old age would not exist. In the United States people don't think about this much because our most destructive and widespread national myths stress independence so much. Alasdair MacIntyre's great late period work, Dependent Rational Animals, is a convincing metaphysical refutation of these myths.
In any case, if you don't have kids and you are steaming because the three or four year old is kicking the back of your airplane seat and screaming about something inconsequential, just please reflect that that kid, or someone just like him or her, will almost certainly be one of the saints who takes care of you at the most vulnerable moment in your future life.
"You chose to have kids." Yes I did. You're welcome.
TESTIFY!