this post was submitted on 27 Jun 2026
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Only if you confuse security with income.
People have kids when they can reasonably assume that their kids will have the same level of lifestyle they do. People judge wealth relatively. They feel ready to have children when they can provide their children with a similar level of resources and opportunities they had. What barometer do people have other than their own childhood?
That's not hard to guarantee as a subsistence farmer, as long as they own or otherwise have secure rights to the land. It's a secure but impoverished existence. Sure you're not immune from the weather, but that's true for both parents and children. "Let's have kids. Sure we don't live in a big fancy city, but if it's good enough for us, at worst it can be good enough for them."
Compare that to wealthy people in developed countries. If you're a middle class person now and want your kids to have the same lifestyle you do, better be prepared to help them with the down payment on a house.
It's obvious you're not a "subsistence" farmer
Perhaps you would like to contribute to the conversation.
Fair.
Farmers in developing countries have a lot less security. Why would anyone in their situation too want to bring a child into the world? If you look at the data, you'd see the lack of education of women is the best indicator for high fertility rate (and high mortality too). I honestly think those who are having more kids have it out of societal habit, and not based on feeling of security.
To illustrate how insecure farming is, here's a story -
The morning sky offers no promises. Kwesi rubs his calloused hands together, staring at the dry, cracked earth of his small plot in rural Ghana.
For a smallholder farmer here, peace of mind does not exist. Every season is a high-stakes gamble against forces completely outside his control.If the rains arrive late, his maize seeds rot. If they come as a torrent, the topsoil washes away.
There is no irrigation, no safety net, and no insurance. Even a successful harvest brings anxiety. Without cold storage, Kwesi's crops quickly spoil in the heat. He must sell immediately to aggressive middlemen who offer pennies, knowing he cannot afford to wait.But nature is not his only threat.
The distant rumble of a motorbike makes Kwesi’s heart drop. To buy fertilizer, he had to bypass formal banks and borrow from a ruthless local lender. Now, with the harvest ruined by fall armyworms, the debt is due. The motorbike stops, and two men step off carrying heavy wooden clubs. They do not care about droughts or pests.
"Next week," the taller man barks, kicking over Kwesi’s tools. "No money, and we take your land or your livestock. Or that pretty daughter of yours. You choose."
They leave in a cloud of dust, but the terror remains. As his youngest daughter coughs in her sleep, a suffocating dread tightens in Kwesi's chest. He has no money for her medicine, and the enforcers are coming for his last remaining goats.