Vanishing innocence

Is there such a thing as an innocent childhood nowadays? Or is it just a relic of the past that no longer exists?

I was an innocent child for most of my childhood. My parents always tried to shield me from the horrors of the outside world. And then as a teenager my boarding school also hid the outside world from me.

It was only when I started work as a journalist that I was rapidly exposed to the outside world and its atrocities - homelessness, poverty, crime, war and everything else. I was profoundly shocked for a while.

It was normal when I was a child to preserve children's innocence, their cheerful outlook, and spare them from the sort of appalling things they weren't psychologically equipped to process.

But now, because of so many news outlets and so much social media, children are coming up against the outside world and all its barbarities at a very early age.

Is this a good thing or a bad thing? I would say it's a bad thing because young children who haven't yet cultivated the necessary cynicism or detachment or composure to take sickening horrors in their stride can find them extremely disturbing.

I'm sure this premature exposure to the outside world is partly what's causing the epidemic of mental distress among young people. But how to put the genie back in the bottle?

A careless child

The recent slight damage to a £42 million Rothko painting in a Rotterdam museum by a careless child has once again led to debate about whether children should be allowed in art galleries.

Well, of course they should. It's always possible that an impulsive child will touch a painting or sculpture without thinking, and it's always possible that the art work will be immensely valuable and need careful restoration.

But that very remote possibility is insignificant compared to the mental and emotional benefits that children get by experiencing art, especially from an artistic genre they're unfamiliar with - like abstract art or surrealism or cubism.

Galleries themselves usually give children a warm welcome and are happy to let them appreciate famous and valuable art works. They're very forgiving on the odd occasion that a child accidentally damages something.

Like the four-year-old boy who last year smashed a priceless 3,500 year old vase to pieces at a gallery in Israel. Far from being outraged, the Hecht Museum invited the child back to the museum with his family for an organised tour. And there was no question of the family being asked to pay anything towards repairing the vase.

In my experience gallery attendants are very quick to stop anyone (both children and adults) from getting too near the exhibits, so the chance of something getting damaged is pretty remote.

Pic: Gray, Orange on Maroon by Mark Rothko

No aversion

Hannah suggests I have an aversion to children.

Not so. I have nothing against children, and in general I'm very tolerant of them. After all, I was a child myself once upon a time. But I have an aversion to children who behave badly, just as I have an aversion to oldies who behave badly. If a child is being rude or demanding endless attention or throwing things, of course I don't like it and I'll want them to be better behaved.

There are four children in the house next door and I have no problem with them. They're very well-behaved and mostly don't bother us in any way. The only minor annoyance is from the oldest son, who regularly kicks footballs into our garden. We chuck them back and that's that.

Grown adults can be much more tiresome, making tedious complaints about parking or dog mess or litter or bin emptying. You can't say, oh they're just having fun, you know what children are like, because they aren't children. They're meant to be intelligent and interesting, not a lot of dreary whingers and moaners.

Children come up with all sorts of intriguing ideas and observations. They're full of life and bubbly curiosity. Why would I have an aversion to them?

Sailing along

As we get older we're supposed to get more and more indifferent to what others think of us and just go sailing happily along in our own little self-centred bubble.

I don't find that at all. If anything I'm more aware of what others think of me and more concerned that someone might have a negative opinion of me.

I think I was probably more indifferent to other people's view of me when I was a child. Children are notoriously oblivious to how people see them and casually blurt out anything that comes to mind. I'm sure I was just like that, causing offence and shock and disbelief everywhere I went.

Of course that's partly because children don't have much of a stake in their surroundings. They're not home owners worrying how the neighbours see them, or employees worrying how the boss sees them. They just do their thing in a state of blissful self-indulgence.

No, as I grow older I consider other people's reactions to what I say or do all the time. I certainly don't go blundering along upsetting everybody. Children may have the excuse of a tender age but an adult of 77 has no excuse whatever.

I watch all the politicians saying anything that occurs to them, however offensive or contemptuous or untrue and I wonder how they can bring themselves to be so recklessly outspoken. If only they could think before they speak, people might have a bit more respect for them.

A question of trust

Another heated debate about parenting and to what extent you should trust your child to do their own thing without fussing and fretting and watching them like a hawk.

There's been a lot of criticism of Kirstie Allsopp, the presenter of a TV property programme, for allowing her 15 year old son and a 16 year old friend to take a rail trip round Europe on their own.

Even the local council has got involved, with Social Services starting a file on her for supposedly neglectful parenting.

Kirstie Allsopp insists that she knows her own child and had no doubt he was mature enough to make such a trip and cope with any problems that arose. Which he did.

It seems to me that it's entirely up to the parent to decide what their child is capable or not capable of. What business is it of other people to judge them and tell them they made the wrong decision? What do they know about the child's capabilities?

The assumption is that parents are too laid back and let their children do anything they want without properly observing them and keeping them out of harm's way.

As you know, Jenny and I don't have any children, but I imagine that if we had done I for one as a rather anxious individual would probably have been over-protective and over-watchful, deterring my children from spreading their wings and finding their way in the outside world.

I'm sure I would have exaggerated all the dangers and conjured up all sorts of dire eventualities. I suspect I'd have been an alarmingly neurotic parent.

Pic: Kirstie Allsopp

Lots of kids

As someone who has never had any desire for children, I'm intrigued by the American Pronatalist Movement, which wants people to have as many children as possible to reverse the global trend for falling birth rates and the resulting problems.

The most prominent pronatalists are Simone and Malcolm Collins of Pennsylvania, who currently have four children and aim to have another three. And they aren't put off by Simone needing a caesarian every time she gives birth.

They claim that child-rearing is actually pretty easy and not as expensive as is made out. They mostly seem to leave the kids to themselves while they get on with their own pursuits, like revitalising flagging businesses.

Without rising populations "there are going to be countries of old people starving to death" says Malcolm.

Well, I must say I never felt obliged to have lots of kids to maintain global numbers. Surely people should have kids simply because they like them and think they would be good parents.

And unless our gender-based culture changes drastically, presumably it's mainly women who would be lumbered with bringing up the children, having also endured numerous pregnancies.

Yes, falling populations may mean there won't be enough young and middle-aged people to look after the rising number of old people, but I don't think making child-rearing into some kind of duty, or making people feel guilty if they don't have enough, is the way to go. Better to provide a life-enhancing culture that children will thrive in, and a cheap childcare system that gives parents more support.

Pic: Simone Collins

No kids

Jenny and I decided very early on in our relationship that we didn't want children. We just never had that overwhelming urge to reproduce and "continue the family line". And we still feel the same 41 years later.

We know all the arguments for having children. You'll love their unpredictable ideas and comments and questions. You'll be invigorated by their physical energy. We need plenty of young people to keep the economy healthy and provide care and services for the elderly. And we hope our children will look after us when we're old and decrepit.

None of these arguments were strong enough to make me want offspring. Firstly, I have plenty of unpredictable ideas of my own. Secondly, I'm invigorated very easily and don't need any further invigoration. Thirdly, there are plenty of people to provide for the elderly, including all the young migrants the government is trying to keep out.

As for our children looking after us, that argument is highly dubious. In particular, why should children feel obliged to look after their parents, just because their parents brought them into the world?

And there's an assumption that people's children will be physically and mentally fit as well as happy to care for their elderly parents. But they may turn out to be disabled or seriously ill or mentally disturbed and unable to fill that role. They might be dead, they might hate their parents, they might live on the other side of the world. That optimistic assumption about being cared for is full of holes. And very presumptuous.

If other people want to have children, good for them, and I hope they get a lot of joy and satisfaction from doing so. Just as long as I can enjoy a restaurant meal without hyper-active children running amuck.

Dodgy adults

People tell their children to behave like an adult - or behave like a grown-up. Either way that leaves plenty of scope as the behaviour of most adults is far from exemplary. The reality is that adults:

• Lie
• Make things up
• Commit crimes
• Drink too much
• Eat too much
• Smoke
• Drive dangerously
• Sell addictive drugs
• Start wars
• Cheat on their spouses

If anything, children should be telling adults to behave more like children. Because most of those adult tendencies/ nasty habits are absent in children, who still boast healthy and harmless lifestyles. They may lie or make things up, but that's about it.

Adults are in fact a thoroughly bad influence on children, and nothing like as superior as they would like to think. Unfortunately there are adults everywhere you look and children are easily swayed by them.

The average adult, if promoted as a role model for children, would probably be horrified. They would say, for goodness sake don't copy me with all my neuroses and all my failings. Find somebody more worthy of inspiring you.

So the immediate question when told to behave like an adult would have to be - which adult? Do I behave like Uncle Charlie, who drinks like a fish, flirts outrageously and drives like a maniac? Or do I behave like Aunt Delia, who's sensible and considerate and kind?

When I was young, I was indeed inspired by a lot of adults. Not because they were adults but because they had qualities that I admired and wanted for myself. I was especially influenced by an English teacher who made mastering English a whole lot of fun. Yes, he was an adult but that was irrelevant.

Without kids

Author Ruby Warrington says in her book "Women Without Kids" that ever since she got married she's constantly told she should be having children and that she's selfish and damaged for opting out.

It's not just remarks from other people. Everywhere she goes there are adverts for pregnancy tests, baby products and other child-related items. She sometimes feels ashamed that she doesn't have a maternal yearning, and used to wonder if there was something wrong with her.

Well, frankly I wonder what sort of people she's associating with, if so many of them are questioning her childlessness. As far as I can recall, nobody has ever suggested to me or Jenny that we should have had children.

We're often asked if we have children or not, but no one suggests that there's something wrong with us if we don't. Our parents may have wanted us to have children, but if so they never said.

Given the shocking state of Britain right now, with public services crumbling and the cost of everything rocketing, and all the evidence of climate breakdown, it's amazing that people still feel confident enough to have children. Goodness knows what sort of world they'll encounter by the time they're adults.

Then again, if nobody had children, who would look after oldies like us in our dotage? We'd be left high and dry.

Anyway, those people who chastise women (and surprise surprise it's usually women who're admonished, not men) should mind their own business and stop trying to guilt-trip the happily child-free.

Kids deprived

Urban parents want their children to be able to play in the street, as they did themselves when they were young, but increasingly they're being forced to keep their children indoors because of complaints from neighbours and local councils and because of heavy traffic.

Neighbours are objecting to balls landing in their gardens or hitting their cars, and councils are saying that the children are causing a nuisance, obstructing the highway and making people feel "unsafe" in their homes.

When I was young I didn't play in the street myself but plenty of other kids did and I don't recall any complaints from anyone. In those days people were more tolerant and didn't see any problem with boisterous children.

Allowing children to play in the street gives them a lot more freedom than if they're stuck indoors and constantly watched by their parents. It's a shame that the practice is dying out.

Increasing traffic doesn't help either, as it makes roads more dangerous and chokes them with parked cars that might get damaged. In many residential areas there's a 20 mph limit but drivers don't always stick to it.

Emma Wreyford in Bristol has an 11 year old daughter. "It should be such a lovely age for that sort of outdoor play but it's almost impossible. Here the car is king and public space is there for the rights of drivers to store their cars."

I don't see any obvious answer to the problem. Cars aren't going to conveniently disappear and intolerant neighbours are unlikely to suddenly be more tolerant. A lot of children are being deprived of a sense of freedom our generation took for granted.

Even worse

Three years ago, I lamented that the assumption that every succeeding generation would do better for themselves than the previous one seemed to be dead and buried. I noted all the ways in which the young were now worse off than their parents and grandparents. I never imagined things would get even worse. But they have.

Job conditions and salaries are worse, homes are even less affordable, zero-hours and part-time contracts are more common, personal debt is colossal, there are even longer waits for medical treatment, and the interest rate for student loans has increased.

When I look back on my younger days, it's hard to believe I had it so good. Salaries were generous, homes were relatively cheap, most jobs were permanent (and often included annual bonuses), I was never in debt (except later on with a mortgage), and medical treatment was prompt.

My year as an undergraduate now seems extraordinary. I got free tuition, a maintenance grant and a travel grant. If I did a degree now, I'd be up to my eyeballs in debt, and paying it off for years to come.

Some youngsters blame us oldies for this deterioration, which is nonsense because we oldies have always wanted people's lives to get better, not worse. It's the politicians who've presided over a flagging economy and crumbling public services. It was Prime Minister Tony Blair who ended free university tuition in 1998. It's successive governments that have allowed the growth in precarious job contracts. And it's the present government that has allowed the NHS to fall apart.

It must be very upsetting for parents that their children will be so much worse off. They must have wondered whether to have children at all, given the bleak future they'll be up against.

Curiouser and curiouser

I'm a naturally curious person, and Jenny is even more so, which is one reason we get on so well, I guess.

I'm insatiably curious about all sorts of strange things. Such as:

• The relentless social media trolling of public figures
• The damaging effects of second homes on localities
• Over-tourism likewise
• The survival tactics of squirrels
• What cats might be thinking
• Detransitioners and "gender identity"
• The re-writing of popular books to prevent offensiveness
• Why people have cosmetic surgery
• Advances in medical treatment
• Witch-hunting cults
• The shortage of women's toilets
• The psychological toll of sudden fame

I'm not content to simply "take things as they come". I'm not content with superficial knowledge. I want to know more. I want to know why people behave in a certain way, why crazy ideas become fashionable, why people's lives go off the rails.

My mum was remarkably uncurious. I could spend an hour or two with her and she'd show no curiosity about anything. She would follow the news but never questioned any of it. Although she knew I was left-wing (while she was very right-wing) she never probed me about my opinions, she just ignored them.

But how can people not be curious? The world is so full of bizarre and inexplicable behaviour, how can anyone not want to ask a hundred questions? How can anyone just carry on as if nothing unusual is happening?

People often lose their child-like curiosity as they get older. According to behaviourist Ian Leslie we ask 40,000 questions a year between the ages of two and five - around 110 each day - while adults ask a mere 20. No wonder so many peculiar ideas become mainstream - not enough people query them.

Curiosity killed the cat? What nonsense.

Out it pops

Because such things weren't talked about much when I was young, I was actually middle-aged before I realised that pregnancy was quite a complicated and perilous business.

For a long time I thought it was all very simple - you got pregnant and then nine months later out popped the baby. What was all the fuss about? Why were mothers always congratulated for doing something so routine?

It gradually dawned on me that pregnancy was in fact quite a trial. Every stage can be problematic. You can fail to conceive, fail to remain pregnant, fail to have a healthy diet or a healthy lifestyle. The baby can be premature, or defective, or harmed by medical mistakes, or suffer a cot death.

So if you manage to overcome all those hazards, congratulations are very much in order. Hardly a case of "out pops the baby". More a case of surviving a tough obstacle course against all the odds.

So I welcome the increasing trend to be more candid about pregnancy and all its difficulties. It means I'm much more aware of the ordeal women may be privately going through, however straightforward it may all seem from the outside.

I'm amazed that after all the problems of pregnancy, women don't always say "that was dreadful - never again" but are often willing to go through it several times to satisfy their burning desire for children. I can only admire their unflagging determination.

I'm very glad pregnancy is something that only happens to other people.

Distasteful legacies

It's the custom to pass on your inheritance (if you're lucky enough to have one) to your offspring or other family members. Eyebrows are raised if you hand it all to the local cat shelter or the Teddy Bear Society (yes, there is one).

But not everyone approves of this practice. Actor Daniel Craig, who has a three year old daughter, a stepson and an adult daughter, says he won't leave his children a large inheritance because he finds the practice "distasteful".

He thinks it's better to "get rid of it or give it away before you go". He adds "Isn't there an old adage that if you die a rich person, you've failed?"

His estimated net worth is currently over $180 million, and he's due to pick up another $100 million from future film deals. That's quite a hefty sum to not inherit.

He may be one of those who think handing your children a huge windfall just makes them lazy and self-centred and they should have to make their own way in life, presumably just as their own parents did.

But what if your children are already grown-up and doing very nicely? Should you then deny them an inheritance because they don't need it?

And if your children are grown-up but not doing very well, should you still deny them an inheritance because you think they squander money left right and centre and should just get a grip on their life?

Or what if you just can't stand one of your children and think they're a right pain in the arse? Do they also get nothing? (as happened with my father, who left me precisely zilch)

Whatever the reason for disinheriting family members, I imagine resentment and bitterness are almost sure to follow.

Unhappy families

It gradually dawned on me as I got older that there are very few genuinely happy families, and that most families have to contend with conflicts and tensions of one kind or another.

Despite the tensions in my own family, I grew up assuming most families were happy - loving mums and dads tenderly nurturing their cherished offspring, any occasional spats quickly smoothed over and blissful harmony restored.

It didn't help that so many of the children's stories I read were about perfect families who always "lived happily ever after".

As the years went by, I slowly realised that many families aren't as happy as they make out, and that in private heated rows might be the norm. Clashing personalities, political differences, disputes over parenting, squabbles over housework, womanising husbands. A hundred things to disrupt the precarious goodwill.

It's still the convention that families present a united front to the rest of the world and not "air their dirty linen in public". Even if the family is being torn apart, they should pretend there's nothing amiss except the odd good-natured tiff.

But as we can see at the moment, families from the Royal Family downwards can have their troubles. Clearly there's no love lost between the Queen and Meghan Markle.

At least warring couples are now less likely to stay together "for the sake of the children". They've realised children exposed to constant bad feeling and sniping can end up more disturbed than children of couples who've split up.

But it's very embarrassing when you're visiting a married couple and it's immediately apparent there's some simmering hostility between them. The atmosphere is so uncomfortable it's a relief to wind up the evening and depart.

So how about Jenny and me, I hear you ask. Well, obviously we're the happiest of all happy couples. How could we not be?

How very reassuring

One thing we all learn as we grow up is the art of reass-urance - how to make the totally weird or alarming seem quite normal and manage-able. If we didn't pick up this vital skill, we'd all feel permanently overwhelmed by the horrors and peculiarities of the world around us.

From the government insisting the pandemic will soon be over, to mommy asking little Rebecca why she's crying, we become adept at playing things down, minimising things, insisting nothing's as bad as it seems.

Sometimes it's to reassure other people who're feeling panicky and anxious and powerless. Sometimes it's to reassure ourselves.

Politicians in particular are well versed in playing things down. No no, poverty isn't as widespread as we think. No no, there are plenty of jobs available.

Parents are equally adept at soothing their children's umpteen worries. No of course we're not getting divorced, darling. No of course that dog isn't going to bite you. No of course the planet's not about to explode.

Those reassurances may be total lies, but rather that than leave someone floundering in a state of helpless fright.

Jenny and I are always reassuring each other about something or other. We both know the other is deliberately reassuring us, and we only half believe what we're hearing, but we feel better for hearing it, which is the whole point.

My being a worried-well type, always imagining the slightest physical aberration might be the first sign of something horrible, reassurances from doctors are especially welcome.

Reassurances from politicians on the other hand aren't at all welcome. We all know frequent lying is part of the job description so I'm seldom convinced.

Finally, I can reassure you that this blog post is entirely harmless and reading it will not precipitate skin rashes, blurred vision or any horrid neurological conditions.

The ticking clock

This is puzzling. Janet Sewell, a woman in her forties, writing in the Guardian, complains that people are always asking her if she has children, and if not, whether she's going to have any. "After all, the clock is ticking" they remind her.

People say "You'll be so happy if you have children". And she thinks, "I'm actually happy as I am but will I be happier if I have children?" She feels like she's being told she doesn't carry her weight in society.

Well, the reason I'm puzzled is that neither Jenny or I have had any such "child harassment". We've never had people badgering us about our child-free status or telling us we're missing out on a wonderful experience.

So why is that? Did we look like potential child molesters who mustn't have kids under any circumstances? Did we look so poor our kids would be seriously disadvantaged? Did we look like neglectful slobs who would let our children starve to death? Did we look like angry, belligerent individuals who would terrify our offspring?

Or did we just happen to associate with courteous, easy-going types who felt no need to ask if we were planning to reproduce?

And on the other hand, why are people always asking Janet Sewell if she's going to have children? What is there about her that encourages such a question? Or does she simply mix with a lot of nosey parkers who think the future of her womb is something they have a right to inquire about?

Why do people think it's okay to ask such questions? Especially as the explanation for being child-free might be an embarrassing one the couple would rather not reveal.

But bearing in mind the sort of people Jenny and I associate with, it seems quite normal that people were more interested in our political leanings than in whether we'd reproduced.

Pic: not Janet Sewell

No tiny feet

Jenny and I decided very early on that we didn't want children. Lots of our friends and acquaint-ances were having children and they seemed happy enough with their choice, but it wasn't for us.

We just never had the urge. There may be many men and women who're naturally broody and simply can't wait for the patter of tiny feet, but we never felt like that. We had other priorities.

We've always been content as just the two of us, and didn't want a couple of kids possibly complicating our relationship. And we never woke up one middle-aged morning thinking, oh my god we should have had kids, and now it's too late.

There were other factors of course. My parents did a pretty clumsy job of bringing up us kids, and I didn't think I'd be any better than them. Why not leave parenting to those who have an obvious gift for it?

I think both childless couples and couples with children are somewhat baffled by each other's choices. The former think, what's the big attraction of spending twenty years bringing up unruly kids and never having any peace and quiet? The latter think, they don't know what they're missing, there's nothing like it, it's a unique experience.

Childless couples are still accused by some of being selfish, of not helping to raise the next generation. Well, we may not have children but we're paying for other people's children - their healthcare, their education, the libraries they use. So I think we're doing our bit.

No patter of tiny feet for us. Only the tiny paws of trespassing cats.

Nosey parkers

As a non-parent, I'm grateful I've escaped all those unwanted criticisms that parents are confronted with. As if it isn't hard enough dealing with an unruly, angry child, unhelpful comments from others just add insult to injury.

In an American poll*, nearly two thirds of mothers said they felt they had been criticised for their parenting decisions, from their own family as much as from total strangers.

Discipline, sleep and diet were the topics that usually brought criticism, but anything was grist to the mill. I guess those who are long-time parents often feel entitled to criticise the supposed failings of new parents.

I don't criticise other people's behaviour, unless they're behaving especially badly. I don't even criticise people's table manners, something that gets a lot of people stewing.

And as a non-parent who has little idea of what parenting involves (apart from watching my own parents), and certainly not the day-after-day stress of living with volatile, self-centred, truculent youngsters, I wouldn't dare challenge a parent on his or her parenting skills.

So much of the criticism is a matter of opinion anyway. "Your children are being too noisy". "You should give him a good smack". "You're being too indulgent". "She's manipulating you". Mind your own business and shut the f--- up.

Looking back on my own childhood, I can see now that I must have been an absolute pain in the neck at times. I disagreed with my father on most things and I could be stubborn as a mule. Luckily he was a middle-class father who would think twice about clobbering me, however maddening I was being.

I have every sympathy for hard-pressed parents. However much you love your kids, there are times when they're simply utterly exhausting.

*A poll of 475 mothers of children under five by the C.S.Mott Children's Hospital in Ann Arbor, Michigan

Letting go

One of the hardest things about being a parent must be giving up the constant supervision of your children and trusting them to make their own decisions - hopefully sensible and intelligent ones.

When you've been keeping an eye on your children 24 hours a day since they were born, it must be quite a wrench to be less vigilant and stop constantly checking up on them.

I'm reminded of this by yet another teenager dying of a suspected drugs overdose at the Leeds music festival. The 17 year old girl had taken not just one drug but a whole cocktail of drugs. She trusted whoever gave them to her and assumed they weren't dangerous.

And every so often kids decide it would be hilarious to wreck the local children's playground or daub graffiti on the wall of the parish church.

At some point a parent has to allow their child to go out on their own and be responsible for their own actions. You have to make a judgment as to whether they'll be safe or whether they'll get into some kind of trouble - drug abuse, sexual harassment, a car accident, shoplifting.

I imagine the farther your child goes, and the longer they're away, the more nervous you get. If they're backpacking in Australia for two months, for example. Or maybe it makes no difference.

Of course at a certain age a child is legally entitled to do whatever they want and their parents can no longer stand in the way.

When I was a teenager I generally made sensible decisions, but not always. I remember driving my girlfriend home once when I was very drunk, as people did in those days. Luckily I didn't have an accident.

Just let go, they say. Easier said than done.