A few months ago, I adopted a cat named LungLung. He is small, but convinced he is the emotional centre of the universe. And somewhere between scheduling his feeding times and grooming appointments, it recently hit me that I have essentially become a parent – a parent with much of the responsibility and apparently none of the privileges.
Because here is the truth: the world is built for families, and everyone else is expected to slip into the leftover spaces. This shows up in a hundred small ways, but nowhere is it especially clear than at work. A colleague’s child sneezes and they are granted early leave. Imagine if I tried to clock out early because LungLung was having an existential spiral?
I once had a colleague who loved to joke, “I gave birth to three children … what have you done?” My honest answer at the time was, “Kept a houseplant alive for nine months.” Not quite the same league, apparently.
And the workplace often reinforces this hierarchy. In many offices, some parents receive exemptions from full-time attendance or enjoy shorter working hours with the blessing of HR.
There is research to back up these discrepancies. In a 2022 poll titled What’s It Like Being Childfree at Work by the online portal ResumeLab, 72 per cent of respondents said they had noticed childfree workers being treated unfairly because they do not have children. In the same poll, 74 per cent said people with children were treated better in the workplace. And 85 per cent of respondents said people with children get priority when planning vacations or day off.
It also goes without saying that my “child” will never qualify for many employee benefits, including school fees, which many companies offer.
Even commuting often feels unfair. I leave home at a responsible hour only to be trapped behind a parade of school buses each morning. On the subject of transport, don't get me started on airports. Boarding begins with “families with children”, which is fair enough until it extends to half the plane, and suddenly, I’m giving priority boarding to potential chaos agents at 35,000 feet.
Before anyone accuses me of hating children, I don’t. I am actually the designated cool uncle in my circle, beloved by those who are not biologically mine.
And here is the kicker: research shows there is no real difference in overall happiness between people with children and those without. A 2021 study by Oslo Metropolitan University found that adults without children report similar levels of life satisfaction and mental well-being as parents. So technically, there shouldn’t be a dramatic hierarchy between me and my colleagues with children. Yet, here we are.
This is not bitterness. It is simply a reflection of how society organises itself around people who have reproduced – a life choice I personally did not request, but must now politely accommodate.
I admire parents. Truly. They are raising the next generation of humans who will inherit the planet and, hopefully, improve it. But it would be nice to acknowledge that non-parents also have responsibilities, schedules and beings who depend on them. Even if they are parents, partners or have whiskers.
Of course, there is a great deal of joy in being a parent. There is also plenty of joy in being childfree: quiet mornings, spontaneous plans, uncluttered living rooms and the ability to live through an entire weekend without stepping on a Lego brick.
Recently, I visited the new Natural History Museum Abu Dhabi and was reminded of the five mass extinctions, each one sweeping the stage clean for Earth's new inhabitants. It made me think about all the space childless adults give up in daily life – our time, our flexibility, our silence on planes – and what, exactly, we might be clearing the way for in the next reset.
I hope the new life forms at least send a thank you note.
