A recent interviewer asked Tyler Cowen to explain falling birth rates, and he puckishly responded, “Do you have kids?” His point: Anyone who knows what kids are actually like can instantly understand why adults are reluctant to have them. The real mystery, for Tyler, is “why it took so long?” Why didn’t adults notice kids’ massive drawbacks long ago?
My initial reaction was to zoom out.
If asked, “Why are marriage rates falling?,” you could puckishly respond, “Have you ever been married?”
If asked, “Why is labor force participation falling?,” you could puckishly respond, “Have you ever had a job?”
If asked, “Why are people spending less time with friends?,'“ you could puckishly respond, “Have you ever met other people?”
My point: The more you zoom out, the more the pettiness of our complaints about our fellow human beings comes into focus. Parenthood, love, work, and friendship are what makes life living; the rest is noise.
Before long, however, I felt compelled to zoom in.
The most natural interpretation of Tyler’s rhetorical question is that kids are, on balance, much worse than adults. I don’t know if Tyler really thinks this, but most adults do. I say the opposite is true: The average kid is a better person than the average adult.
As a father of four, I say this in all seriousness. Sure, kids rarely have jobs. They don’t fly planes or save lives or construct original philosophical arguments. But I would much rather hang out with a random group of kids than a random group of adults. For all of the following reasons:
Kids are much less boring than adults. They have more energy, joie de vivre, and curiosity. A lot more. They want to do things in their free time, rather than merely “relax.”
Kids are much more honest than adults. While kids do invent bald lies for short-run gain, they are far more candid overall. Indeed, they routinely blurt out what they’re really thinking. When one of my relatives was ten, she opened her mouth and said, “I don’t like homeless people.” To which I responded, “Most people feel the same way, but few have the courage to admit it.”
Kids are much less conformist than adults. Sure, kids say, “But my friends will laugh at me,” more than adults. But that’s because they’re being honest. Inside, the old are more afraid of their peers’ laughter than the young. (Unlike adults, kids don’t sue each other over jokes). Kids are much more willing to be different, to try a cool new idea, to laugh in the face of tradition.
Kids have better imaginations than adults. They pose novel hypotheticals, like: “What would you do if a cow fell from the sky?” They ask deep questions instead of accepting the world as it is: “If you could live forever, what would you do?” They invent imaginary worlds and characters instead of talking about the health issues of their elderly relatives.
Kids have much better hobbies than adults. A large share of grown-up recreation revolves around alcohol consumption. A bunch of stupid beverages! First-person shooter games are awesome by comparison. And one of the main reasons kids spend so much time online is that their parents fail to give them siblings and treat “play dates” with their friends as a special treat. If you put a group of kids together under one roof, they cycle through a kaleidoscope of fun. They play hide-and-seek, create board games, fight with foam swords, film movies, and make food. All in an hour.
Kids hold far fewer grudges than adults. If you make them angry or sad, they scream or cry. Half an hour later, they’re back to normal. Adults, in contrast, bottle up their feelings — and hold petty grudges for decades.
Kids express far more joy and love than adults. They don’t just sincerely rejoice in holidays and birthdays. They rejoice over an unexpected ice cream cone. And while they forget grudges quickly, they keep reminding you that they love you.
Kids have more time for you than adults. I’m amazed by the way that even retirees think of themselves as constantly “busy.” Unless their parents cruelly overschedule them, most kids are ready to start having fun as soon as you are.
Kids are more likely to teach you new things than adults. While kids rarely want to hear another educational lecture from adults, most are eager to give such lectures to adults. Want to learn what’s cool today in music, shows, games, and life? Ask a kid.
Kids are much less jaded than adults. Kids yawn at art museums, but that’s on you. Try taking them to Disneyland or a simple waterfall and witness their excitement. If and when you tire of your favorite activities and places, you can see the world anew again just by bringing some kids to experience them with you.
Finally, being there for kids makes you more popular with adults. When my twins were babies, I’d often stroll them around the mall when my wife worked late. I have never been a bigger rock star. Strangers would praise me, then ask, “Where’s mom?” When I said, “Working,” they would smile at me like I’d cured cancer. Before I had kids, society would have deemed me a freak for dressing up and trying to trick-or-treat on Halloween. Once I became a dad, doing the same made me a minor hero.
Don’t kids’ virtues depend on age of the kid? Of course. Babies don’t talk, though they are excellent listeners. Aren’t some kids rotten? Of course, but so are plenty of adults. Don’t the best adults make better companions than the best kids? Setting nepotism aside, yes.
Still, when I compare all the adults I’ve met to all the kids I’ve met, there’s no comparison. To be frank, 80% of adults are total duds. A supermajority of kids, in contrast, are actually fun. If you don’t appreciate them, the fault is yours.
In modern societies, many young adults, perhaps most, personally know zero children. They don’t have younger siblings, or even cousins. They don’t have nephews or nieces. And they don’t have children of their own. They haven’t been to a kids’ birthday party since they were kids themselves. As a result, many young adults, perhaps most, are deeply ignorant of children’s many virtues. Yes, kids are “immature” — almost by definition. But if you actually spend time with them and have the maturity to control your own impatience and pettiness, you’ll see what great people they are.
P.S. Here is the greatest song on relative merits of kids and adults.
The idea that fighting your friends with foam swords is a much better hobby than drinking is… an unbelievably based idea, and I love the way you’ve put it.
I must be the only guy in the world to have had a terrible experience as an outcast kid, bullied by a bunch of ugly, despicable kids, while the adults in the room were turning a blind eye.
Kids are adults in the making. They are just as terrible as the adults they become; their nefariousness is just limited by their size and influence.
I made a conscious decision not to have kids precisely because I did not want my offsprings to experience what I did at the hands of the wonderful and totally mythical creatures described in the piece.
Having kids is one mistake I did not make.
I will go have a glass of tap water now to celebrate this insignificant victory.
: )