Article
Care
Culture
Economics
Generosity
1 min read

Parenthood Inc: high burn rate, infinite upside

Raising kids is the ultimate moonshot, with returns measured in love, not cashflow

Imogen is a writer, mum, and priest on a new housing development in the South-West of England. 

A baby sleeps curled up.
Sorena.
Hessam Nabavi on Unsplash

Even before they are born, they demand things – a bed or two, Babygros, the cute paraphernalia, like the baby bath used for a few months then outgrown. And, as they grow, they only get more expensive.  

Children apparently cost us over £14,000 a year. According to the Child Poverty Action Group's annual survey, children cost couples £260,000 to raise to adulthood, while the bill rises to £280,000 for a single parent. That is a lot of money. The spread of these costs is heavily weighted towards the early years of a child’s life. Initial set-up, as with many new ventures, is expensive and the list of seemingly essential items is extensive. Childcare during the pre-school years can also up the household bills by £200 per week, causing many parents to question whether work is ‘worth it’. 

It seems though, that it is not only returning to work that is uneconomical. In fact, having babies full stop doesn’t appear to be an economically attractive option. Over the last 15 years, birth rates in the UK have significantly declined. In 2024 the average number of live children a women would have during her life was down to 1.41. UK fertility is low. People are just not having babies. 

There are many reasons for this. Access to contraception, women’s increased equality and opportunity in the workplace, and concerns about finances mean that couples wait longer to begin a family than in previous generations. People in their twenties are perhaps more interested in financial stability rather than family procreativity and women want to get ahead in their chosen career paths before taking time out to have children. Everything has got more expensive, including having children. The world is a big place and desire for travel, adventure, and exploration means couples do not want to be ‘tied down’ with children while they are young.  

The impact of having a child on a woman’s career has been shown to be significantly greater than her male counterpart. I observe mothers, anecdotally and statistically, to be more likely to take time out of work, move to part-time employment, and work in lower-income jobs, than fathers. This is not only something observable in the UK, but it is a universal feature of motherhood. Perhaps becoming a mother is just not ‘worth it’.  

Many concerns about declining birth rates often come down to economics. Without the next generation of workers, our welfare state is headed for stormy seas. An aging society risks a nation flooded with retired dependants without the balance of the tax-paying, working population to support them. Although children are expensive, they are of integral economic value to our functioning society. Even on a micro level, children are increasingly keeping aging parents afloat, supporting them by contributing to the living, housing, and caring costs.  

 Opinions inevitably differ and cause controversy, but for me, the rational economics of parenthood does not contribute to my desire to have children. I do not see our children as a financial investment awaiting a hefty return. I have not embarked on procreation as a means to a stable retirement. Rightly or wrongly, I have not undertaken a cost-benefit analysis of having children. However, I understand it to have great value beyond the numbers. 

To play a part in raising the next generation is one of my life’s greatest joys. To slow down and witness our boys learning the world day by day is an act of resistance against those rational laws of economic productivity and market capitalism. Much of my time does not appear to be ‘well spent’, but in the giggles, the endless mealtimes, the repeated instructions of ‘sit down’, ‘be gentle’, and ‘listen’, there are deep wells of meaning and significance. While some choose to focus on the pouring of economic resources into their children, I choose to focus on the outpouring of my heart. As I give of myself, they grow. I love them, feed them, teach them, wash them at bathtime, and tell them stories of the world, of faith, and of life. As I am poured out, they are formed as tiny humans of unquantifiable value.  

This kind of value, I think, reflects more accurately the value we have before God. Our value as children of God. There is a story about a man who sees a pearl. The pearl is super expensive. This man wants the pearl so much that he sells his possessions, giving everything up so he can have it. Perhaps the pearl is God’s Kingdom, perhaps it is the message of Jesus, or perhaps, as my son once thought, it is us. We are the pearl of infinite, unquantifiable value to God and he gave up everything for us. 

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Review
Aliens
Culture
Film & TV
Monsters
5 min read

Alien, Nietzsche and the death of dread: why the franchise lost its fear

Alien: Earth forgets what made the original so terrifyingly profound
A young woman pets the head of an alien
Don't pet the alien.
26 Key Productions.

The credits are rolling on Alien: Earth and all I can think about is Friedrich Nietzsche. Nietzsche is one of history’s most enigmatic and misunderstood philosophers, one of Christianity’s greatest foils and explains exactly why the TV series, to my mind, fell flat. 

Oh, how excited I was for Alien: Earth! It looked like someone had finally nailed the look and feel of Ridley Scott’s original Alien and paired it with a script by Noah Hawley (who wrote, among other things, the first series of Fargo, which I still think is one of the best series of TV ever made). I couldn’t wait.  

But far from understanding what made the original Alien so terrifying, Alien: Earth manages to undermine the franchise’s key premise at almost every turn, resulting in something truly baffling. While Alien is a deeply nihilistic piece of art that draws on its nihilism for its thoroughgoing sense of dread and unease, Alien: Earth is too cute, too pleased with itself to be truly nihilistic. And therein it loses the power to shock that Alien wielded so effectively.  

Let me explain what I mean. (Spoilers ahead for both Alien: Earth and Alien – although Alien came out in 1979 so if you haven’t seen it at this point, where have you been?) 

“God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers?” 

So declares ‘the mad man’ in Nietzsche’s The Gay Science, giving rise to one of philosophy’s most quotable moments. Nietzsche isn’t talking about a literal ‘death of God’ (he didn’t think there even was a God to kill!). Instead, he’s talking about the death of belief in God.  

But, for Nietzsche, society’s collective loss of belief in God is not a trivial thing. It’s not like realising Santa Claus isn’t real (sorry if anyone was still clinging to that!). No, belief in God gave society structure, purpose, and meaning. Without belief in God, society needs to start from the very beginning and give itself these things all over again. We cannot stop believing in God and imagine that the rest of our lives are untouched.  

For all Nietzsche’s faults – which are numerous – he is clear about the implications of what we might now call ‘secularisation’, in a way that is seldom recognised. In this respect, I often wonder if Nietzsche is the only real atheist who ever lived.   

There is no grand ‘why’ behind the world. No objective meaning or structure to it: we must instead impose our own, individual meaning onto our lives. 

Alien is a deeply Nietzschean film. The xenomorph (that is, the eponymous alien) does not come with a ‘why’. It has no motives other than to kill; no grand plan. It’s not really a villain, in this sense: it just … is. It is the chaotic unstructured whirlwind of a universe without God distilled into a creature. 

It is pure, nihilistic, Nietzschean nightmare fuel.  

At the end of the film, Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) doesn’t ‘defeat’ the xenomorph; she just sends it into space and escapes. She doesn’t ‘overcome’ this nihilistic creature, she just about manages to escape with her life. She does what Nietzsche encourages us all to do and lives despite meaningless chaos of the godless world around us.  

This is not what happens in Alien: Earth, however. The most telling parallel between Alien and Alien: Earth is the role science and technology plays in both. In Alien, the mysterious Weyland-Yutani company wants to capture the xenomorph to use it as a bio-weapon. But the xenomorph resists such human categories and just does what it does: kill, indiscriminately.  

In Alien: Earth, again the xenomorph is seen as a potential weapon, as a potential piece of technology. And … that’s exactly what it becomes. The main character in the show – Sydney Chandler’s Wendy – a little girl whose consciousness is put into the body of a robot (to cut a long, tedious story short), eventually learns the xenomorph’s language and even befriends the creature. By the end of the series, the two have effectively teamed up, with Wendy siccing (setting) the alien on her enemies. 

Excuse me? 

She … ‘sics’ the xenomorph on people? Becomes its friend? Right … 

The first time this happened I full-on laughed at the screen. This is so far removed from the utter nihilism of Alien. Here the xenomorph has agency, motivations, preferences, and even flipping friends! It is so deeply … unscary.  

And that shouldn’t be a surprise. In Alien, Nietzsche’s godless anarchy is distilled into a creature of pure terror. In Alien: Earth, that creature is literally made someone’s pet. Alien continues to terrify because it shows us something of the full implications of what it is to be without God: a world of disorder, anarchy, and chaos. Alien: Earth domesticates that entirely and puts it on a leash. In so doing, lacks all of the potency of its muse.  

In his recent book Dominion, Tom Holland (no, not that Tom Holland) reminds us of what Nietzsche said long ago: our values, ethics, and even our society structures, come from a shared and historic belief in God. Too often we want to have those values, ethics, and structures without the theologies that underwrite them.  

Alien: Earth wants to have its cake and eat it in precisely this same way. It wants to tell a story about a marauding, indiscriminate predator … that can be tamed by a little girl. It fails to scare because it undermines the deeper, even more terrifying story underneath Alien: that without the structure afforded us by belief in a creator, there’s no God out there to hear us scream.

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If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?

Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin
Editor-in-Chief