Melanie McDonaghon’s “The cry should go up in Europe: more babies, please,” though infused with a sort of poor-man’s Sex and the City insistence on allusions to gin habits and “the dinner party circuit” to mask its alarmism over low birth rates (“Europe needs more babies – the average continental family has a mere 1.37 children.”—gasp!), reminded me of nothing so much as Pat Robertson’s hang-wringing last year about Europe commiting racial suicide by not having enough babies.
Every few months, a new article comes out about how “Europeans” aren’t having enough babies, or “middle class” Britons aren’t having enough babies, or “investor class” Americans aren’t having enough babies, and, every time, it really strikes me as saying the same thing Robertson was willing to say more plainly: “White women—get those uteri in gear!” (With white men, natch.) Why I’m supposed to care if white people fall from the face of the planet at some point in the future, I’ve no idea. I don’t even care if people fall from the face of the planet in the future; in fact, I’m quite certain they will before this big blue sphere stops spinning. So big wev.
But there are sure a lot of people who appear to be concerned about it all, especially, as Robertson put it, Europe’s “racial suicide.”
The futility of noting there’s not a single race in Europe notwithstanding (because we all know over what race’s “suicide” he’s fretting), I’d like to reiterate that as one of the despairing, deliberately childless members of that particular race, I don’t really think of it as suicide, racial or otherwise. I like to think that those of us of any race who aren’t contributing to the continuation of the species at nearly the rate of breeding champions (like the Duggars, for example) on Robertson’s side of this existential struggle, are just going to kind of slowly die out, quite likely taking enlightenment, reason, and science with us, so the Quiverfull can scrabble about in the dirt unimpeded by our presence.
Consider it the Rapture in Reverse.