Given the slow pace of governmental action on climate change, it is increasingly clear that preventing its worst impacts will require not only systemic reform but also individual choices that meaningfully reduce our collective footprint. Driving less, flying less, and shifting toward plant-based diets all matter. But one choice has an exceptionally large environmental impact: whether to have children.

Multiple studies—including those published in Environmental Research Letters—have found that in industrialized countries, the decision to have a child carries a substantial long-term carbon impact because it effectively multiplies a family’s environmental footprint across generations. This does not mean children are “bad” or that families who want them are wrong. It means that in a world of finite resources and warming temperatures, the environmental implications of reproduction deserve honest consideration rather than cultural default.

The lifecycle footprint begins early. A baby’s first two years typically involve thousands of diapers, high material consumption, and energy-intensive products from formula to clothing. According to EPA data, Americans generate an average of 4.4 pounds of waste per person per day; children contribute to this pattern simply by participating in a consumer economy built on disposability. Their cumulative impact stretches across decades—food, transportation, housing, education, electronics, and ultimately the emissions of another adult life in a high-consumption society.

Raising a child in the United States now costs roughly $250,000 through age 17, according to the Department of Agriculture—before college, which can add another $100,000 to $150,000. Those same resources, allocated differently, could protect ecosystems, expand clean energy, support frontline climate adaptation, or save countless human and animal lives through evidence-based charities. Money is not the only lens through which to see parenthood, but it is a reminder that reproductive choices have opportunity costs far beyond the family unit.

There are also millions of existing children in need. UNICEF estimates that roughly 153 million children worldwide have lost one or both parents and often lack stable homes, education, or safety. Adoption is deeply personal, and no single solution fits every family, but providing a home to a child who already exists—rather than bringing a new one into a warming world—is both humane and environmentally gentler. As comedian Ricky Gervais joked, there is no line of ghost children waiting impatiently for their turn at life.

The planet’s capacity is already strained. With more than 8 billion people on Earth, scientists warn that our current trajectory of resource consumption, land use, and emissions is unsustainable. Overpopulation does not cause climate change on its own—rich countries with small populations emit far more per capita than poorer, more populous ones—but population multiples the impact of high-consumption lifestyles. Fewer births in wealthy countries, where environmental footprints are largest, can meaningfully slow the pressure on ecosystems.

There is also the question of the world new children will inherit. Climate change is intensifying storms, fires, droughts, and displacement. Billions of people already live with chronic insecurity: poverty, conflict, disease, domestic violence, environmental hazards, and mental health struggles. No parent can guarantee a child’s future safety or happiness, but in an era of destabilizing global threats, the ethical complexities of reproduction deserve more open acknowledgment.

Some argue—rightly—that compassionate people should raise compassionate children. But kindness is not biologically inherited; it is taught, modeled, and reinforced. People without children can shape future generations through teaching, mentoring, community work, political engagement, and, for many, adoption. And even loving parents know that children often chart their own course despite the values they were raised with.

None of this is an indictment of parenthood. Many people find profound meaning in raising a family, and societies rely on younger generations. But cultural norms around reproduction were formed in eras with very different environmental realities. At a time when the planet is warming, species are vanishing, and natural systems are under strain, it is reasonable—even responsible—to ask whether creating more high-consumption lives is consistent with a livable future.

Given these realities, it is worth reconsidering long-held assumptions about the necessity of having children. Climate change will require profound shifts in how we eat, travel, consume, and how we think about population. Reimagining parenthood is not about sacrifice; it is about stewardship. It is about aligning our personal choices with the world we want to preserve. And in a century defined by ecological limits, choosing not to have children may be one of the most environmentally powerful acts an individual can take.