I recently came across a short article in which the female half of an early-30s DINK (dual-income, no kids) couple in Charlotte, North Carolina, outlined their finances.

They make a combined income of about $380,000 per year. They have no debts other than a $450,000 mortgage, which they expect to pay off in the next seven years. They've accumulated $1.1 million in savings, to which they add about $8,000 each month. Other than gym memberships and an occasional dinner out, they rarely splurge.

'People can’t have kids if they can’t afford a house,' they say. Really? Are renters rendered sterile? I was unaware.

Baby bust

"I love our life together," she says. The only thing missing? Children. They definitely want them, but have chosen to wait until they "feel more financially secure."

You read that right. An otherwise financially literate couple thinks $380,000 per year is not enough to have kids.

Prudence is one thing; this is more like paralysis. And it's fairly widespread in 2026, as evidenced by a decline in both birth rates and general happiness.

How did the standards for a good life balloon so far beyond our ancestors’ wildest imaginings? How did people come to believe they cannot start a family without things their grandparents never possessed? And how did this historically anomalous idea come to seem perfectly reasonable?

Feature creep

There is no single explanation, but our inflated expectations seem to track alongside what is sometimes called “feature creep.” This happens when manufacturers continually add conveniences that, in theory, improve a product but eventually raise the baseline — and the price — to a once-unheard-of level.

My sister recently bought a new car. It is amazing. It can do all sorts of things, and despite not being a luxury model, it was quite expensive. She told the salesman, an old-car enthusiast, that she wished she could simply buy a basic car without all the bells and whistles. He agreed.

That is feature creep. The floor has risen so high that heated steering wheels, assisted driving, and iPads embedded in the dashboard are becoming standard equipment. The same thing has happened to houses and apartments, which are now expected to have renovated kitchens, new bathrooms, smart lights, smart thermostats, and every other costly convenience.

Lease on life

As our products have become more elaborate, so have our expectations for what constitutes a good life — and for what having children requires.

People have grown accustomed to so much comfort that they have lost the ability to adapt as their parents and grandparents routinely did in the not-so-distant past.

This is usually the point when someone brings up the housing market.

“People can’t have kids if they can’t afford a house,” they say.

Really? Are renters rendered sterile? I was unaware.

The Root family must have slipped through the cracks, because we have had children while renting and somehow survived. I am obviously sympathetic to the problem of exorbitant housing costs, but I am not going to pretend that home ownership is a prerequisite for having children.

My parents had me while living in an apartment. My father’s parents had their first child in an old Army tent pitched behind the farmhouse where they were staying for the summer. And that is only the 20th century. The farther back you go, the tougher it gets.

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Doom patrol

The belief that renters cannot even contemplate starting a family is closely related to a couple earning $380,000 a year feeling too financially insecure to have children. Both are also distantly related to the depressive claims of online doom-mongers that life is harder than ever, when it so obviously is not.

No one starves in the United States today. It has been a very long time since that was a normal possibility. We have become so thoroughly removed from true want that we have forgotten what the word means.

After the extraordinary material abundance of the 20th century, it is perhaps unsurprising that millions of people developed unreasonable—and ultimately unsatisfiable—expectations for what they need before they can live well or bring children into the world.

The remarkable thing is that they sincerely believe it. Deep down, they really do feel that what they have is not enough, despite having more than their grandparents could have imagined.

Those DINKs in Charlotte really do believe that an income of $380,000 a year is not enough to start a family.

“This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.”