the question of whether it’s morally permissible to deliberately bring a child into existence when we can reasonably predict their life will be marked by profound hardship is one that cuts to the core of ethical reflection. it’s not merely a matter of personal choice or parental desire; it forces us to grapple with the boundaries of responsibility, the nature of rights, and the very meaning of a life worth living. this isn’t about accidental pregnancies or unforeseen tragedies—it’s about intentional acts, like those facilitated by modern reproductive technologies such as in vitro fertilization (ivf), where genetic screening can reveal the likelihood of severe conditions. nor is it limited to medical cases; imagine a child born into unrelenting poverty or to parents known to be abusive, where the prospects of a decent life seem dim from the outset. in such scenarios, is it right to proceed? my contention is that it’s not—that there’s a fundamental wrong in knowingly creating a life so burdened, a wrong rooted in the child’s own entitlement to something better.
let’s start by framing the issue clearly. when we speak of “deliberate” creation, we mean a conscious decision to conceive, not a roll of the dice softened by ignorance or chance. technologies like preimplantation genetic diagnosis (pgd) allow prospective parents to assess risks—say, of a child inheriting a debilitating disease like tay-sachs, where suffering is near-certain and life expectancy cruelly short. but the principle extends beyond the clinic. consider a couple in a war-torn region, aware that any child they bring into being will face starvation or violence, with no realistic hope of escape. in both cases, the decision to proceed isn’t blind; it’s informed by a reasonable expectation of what that life will hold. the question, then, is whether such an act respects the moral claims of the child-to-be, or whether it violates them.
i argue that every child has what we might call a “birthright”—not just to existence, but to a life that offers a fair shot at wellbeing. this isn’t a vague sentiment; it’s a claim grounded in the idea that if we grant children rights at all—say, to safety, nourishment, or freedom from cruelty—then it’s incoherent to knowingly bring them into a situation where those rights are doomed from the start. think of it this way: if i have a right to free movement, but someone locks me in a cage at birth, that right is hollowed out before i can even claim it. similarly, a child born into a life so wretched that basic goods—health, security, dignity—are predictably out of reach isn’t just unlucky; they’ve been wronged. and the wrongdoer, in this case, is the one who set the stage: the parent who chose to roll the dice, knowing the odds were stacked against the child.
this view hinges on a threshold—a line below which a life becomes so poor that creating it is unjustifiable. it’s not about perfection; few lives are free of struggle. nor is it about denying parenthood to those facing hardship. it’s about recognizing that some conditions are so severe—whether due to genetic fate or social circumstance—that they strip away the reasonable prospect of what most would call a minimally decent existence. the united nations convention on the rights of the child offers a useful benchmark here, listing rights like education, protection from harm, and the chance to develop fully. a life where these are systematically unattainable—say, due to a condition causing constant pain or a childhood of neglect—falls below that line. the point isn’t precision; it’s that we can intuitively sense when a life tips into the realm of “barely worth living,” even if the exact boundary remains fuzzy.
challenging the “no harm, no foul” defense
not everyone agrees with this stance. some philosophers—and plenty of laypeople—argue that as long as a life is “worth living,” even just barely, no wrong is done by bringing it into being. their reasoning often splits into two parts: first, that a life above the brink of non-existence is a net positive, and second, that if the parents couldn’t have had a healthier child anyway, they’re off the hook. this view crops up in debates over assisted reproduction, where couples might know their only offspring will face serious challenges, yet choose to proceed. it’s a position that sounds compassionate—after all, who are we to judge a life’s worth?—but i think it’s deeply flawed.
take the first claim: if a life is better than nothing, no harm is done. imagine a child born with a condition that guarantees chronic pain but doesn’t kill them young. their days are a grind of suffering, yet they don’t wish for death—perhaps they find fleeting moments of joy, or simply lack the means to end it. proponents of this view might say, “see, they’re better off than not existing.” but this sidesteps a critical distinction between harm and wrong. harm implies making someone worse off than they’d otherwise be, and since non-existence isn’t a state we can compare to, the argument goes that no harm occurs. fair enough—but wrongness doesn’t require harm. if i break a promise that ends up benefiting you (say, i skip our meeting and you meet your soulmate instead), i’ve still wronged you by disregarding your trust. likewise, creating a child whose life scrapes by at the edge of tolerability might not “harm” them relative to nothingness, but it wrongs them by denying them a fairer start—a start they’re entitled to expect from those who chose to create them.
the second claim is trickier: if the parents can only have a child with a tough life, or no child at all, surely they’re not blameworthy? picture a couple whose genetics mean any baby will inherit a severe disability, or who live in such dire straits that a decent upbringing is impossible. the “unavoidability” here isn’t absolute—they could abstain—but relative: if they want a child, this is their only option. defenders say they’re exercising their procreative freedom, a liberty so tied to identity and meaning that it shouldn’t be curtailed unless the child’s life is outright unbearable. and since a barely tolerable life isn’t unbearable, they’re in the clear. this has intuitive pull—why punish people for circumstances beyond their control?—but it collapses under scrutiny.
consider an analogy: a couple decides to have a child, intending to sell it into slavery at birth. the slave’s life, while grim, is still “worth living”—they eat, they breathe, they exist. the parents wouldn’t have conceived without the buyer’s offer, so this child is their only shot at parenthood. by the “no harm, no foul” logic, they’ve done nothing wrong—the child’s better off than not existing, and the outcome was unavoidable if they were to reproduce. yet this feels outrageous, doesn’t it? the intuition isn’t just emotional; it’s moral. the parents misuse their power to create life, treating it as a means to an end rather than an end in itself. the child’s birthright—to a life not shackled from the outset—is trampled, not because slavery is worse than non-existence, but because it’s a betrayal of what parenthood should offer.
this suggests procreative liberty isn’t a blank check. it’s not just a right to make babies however one pleases, checked only by external harms like overpopulation or public cost. it’s a right with built-in limits—internal constraints—that demand the child’s wellbeing be part of the deal. think of free speech: you can say what you want, but not if it’s libel or incitement; those aren’t exceptions tacked on later, they’re part of what “free speech” means. similarly, the right to procreate includes a duty to ensure the resulting life isn’t predictably miserable. if you can’t meet that bar, you’re not exercising the right properly—you’re stepping outside its scope.
where does this leave us?
so, is it always wrong to create a life we expect to be very poor? mostly, yes—but there are wrinkles worth exploring. one is the rare case where a greater good might justify it. imagine a post-apocalyptic world where humanity’s survival hinges on two couples having kids, even knowing those kids will scrape by in squalor. the stakes—preserving the species—might outweigh the wrong to the individuals, though it’s a grim calculus. less extreme, what about a tribe whose culture teeters on extinction unless its last members reproduce, despite the harsh lives their children will face? here, i’m skeptical; cultural survival is valuable, but it’s harder to argue it trumps a child’s claim to decency the way species survival might.
another wrinkle: what if the parents aren’t at fault for the misery? say they’re trapped in poverty through no fault of their own—global inequality or systemic injustice has stacked the deck. their child will suffer, but not because they’re reckless; they’re just dealt a rotten hand. should they lose the chance at parenthood when richer folks don’t? it’s a tough question, and the unfairness stings. but the child’s birthright doesn’t shift blame—it’s still wronged by being born into a life that’s predictably awful, even if the parents aren’t the villains. the real fix lies in tackling the poverty, not in excusing the act of conception. compare it to a theft driven by desperation: it’s still wrong, even if the thief isn’t wholly culpable; the solution is addressing the desperation, not redefining theft.
practically, this view has bite. in assisted reproduction, it means denying ivf to couples whose kids would likely fall below the decency threshold—think severe genetic risks with no workaround. for natural conception, it’s murkier; you can’t police every bedroom. but in extreme cases—say, parents who can only produce children doomed to agony—compulsory sterilization might be defensible. the usual objection is that it violates procreative liberty, but if that liberty can’t be exercised without wronging someone, it’s already forfeit. this isn’t a call for mass intervention; it’s a narrow fix for rare, clear-cut cases.
to wrap up, the heart of this argument is simple yet radical: children aren’t just gifts we give ourselves—they’re beings with claims of their own. if we choose to create them, we owe them a life that’s not just better than nothing, but good enough to honor their inherent worth. anything less isn’t just a misfortune—it’s a moral failing. this doesn’t solve every dilemma, but it reframes the conversation away from parental wants and toward the child’s due. in a world where we can increasingly predict and control outcomes, that shift matters more than ever.
Of course, even if we try to discuss all these analyses from a moral standpoint and use that as a starting point, the world still has quite large problems that lie beyond these categorizations. Compared to those, this may seem like a secondary issue — and perhaps it truly is — but it’s still worth mentioning and discussing.
reference:
archard, david. “wrongful life.” philosophy 79, no. 309 (july 2004): 403–420.
