The Empty Cradle: Why Young Conservative Men Are the Only Ones Still Dreaming of Kids

by Alexander Tidd

The Empty Cradle: Why Young Conservative Men Are the Only Ones Still Dreaming of Kids

There's a car seat in my backseat and honestly, it's the best decision I ever made. This is my life now. Board books scattered across the living room. An entire drawer dedicated to tiny socks that somehow never stay paired. The profound joy of watching another human discover that clouds move and dogs are exciting and strawberries taste incredible.

I chose this. Deliberately. And I'm genuinely happy about it, even when I'm explaining for the third time why we can't have ice cream for breakfast.

But here's what I've noticed: I'm increasingly alone in this choice, and I completely understand why.

The numbers tell a story that anyone with eyes can see playing out in real time. The birthrate keeps dropping like a stone down a well. People my age, millennials who came of age during the Great Recession, are having fewer kids than any generation in American history. Some of us are having one. Most are having none at all.

And the reasons are legitimate. Brutally so. Daycare in my city costs more than most people's rent. A modest house in a decent school district likely costs $700,000 or more in Northern California, where I live. College tuition has become a number so large it loses meaning. My friends look at these figures and make the entirely rational decision to opt out. They're not selfish or short-sighted. They're being realistic about what modern parenthood actually costs.

Plenty Of Reasons To Be Concerned

Beyond economics, there's the weight of the world itself. Climate projections that read like horror novels. Political instability that makes planning for next year feel optimistic, let alone the next generation. My childless friends carry a different kind of burden, the moral calculus of bringing someone into a world that feels increasingly precarious. I respect that. It's a serious question with no easy answers.

Then there's the opportunity cost. My friends without kids travel to Japan and take pottery classes and sleep past seven on weekends. They're building careers without the constraint of pickup times. They're investing in friendships and hobbies and personal growth. They're living full, intentional lives that just happen not to include children. When I see their Instagram posts from hiking trips in Patagonia, I don't think they're missing out. I think they're making different choices that work for them.

I got lucky in ways I'm acutely aware of. Stable job. Supportive partner. Family nearby who can help. A landlord who hasn't raised rent in three years. Remove any one of those variables and this whole thing becomes exponentially harder. Most of my friends don't have that same constellation of advantages, and I'd never judge them for doing the math and coming to a different conclusion.

Exceptions To The Rule

But then there's this strange wrinkle in the data. Young conservative men, the demographic that supposedly struggles most in the modern dating market, they want kids. Multiple kids. Three, four, sometimes more. They're looking at the same economic nightmare and climate anxiety and seeing past it somehow. Or maybe they're just not calculating the same way.

At the playground, I've noticed the demographic clustering. More religious families. More conservative ones. Not exclusively, but noticeably. And I find myself wondering what accounts for the difference. Is it about values? Economics? Different risk tolerance? Some fundamental disagreement about what makes life meaningful?

The progressive parents I know, and there aren't many of us, we tend to have one kid. Maybe two if we're feeling ambitious. We've done the cost-benefit analysis and capped our exposure. Meanwhile there's a subset of young men who seem completely immune to these calculations, who want large families despite or maybe because of the chaos of the current moment.

I don't think they're right and my childless friends are wrong. I think we're all navigating an impossible situation where the traditional supports for family formation have collapsed but the biological and psychological drives haven't. Some people respond by opting out entirely. Some by having one and calling it good. And some, inexplicably, by wanting more.

My kid will be reading by himself soon. Learning to ride a bike. Eventually leaving for college if college still exists. Watching him grow is the most rewarding thing I've ever done, and I genuinely mean that. But I also see why most of my generation is choosing differently. The barriers are real. The costs are staggering. The future is uncertain.

Maybe the conservative men who want big families are operating on faith rather than spreadsheets. Maybe they have family wealth or community support or just a different tolerance for financial stress. Maybe they see children as a mission rather than a lifestyle choice. I honestly don't know.

What I do know is that the birthrate keeps falling while I'm over here reading "Goodnight Moon" and feeling grateful I get to do this. My friends are in Portugal sipping vino and posting sunset photos, and I'm genuinely happy for them too.

We're all just trying to build meaningful lives in a world that makes it harder every year. Some of us are doing it with kids. Most aren't. And maybe that's not a crisis so much as an adaptation to circumstances none of us chose.