Stephen Pinker, the author of The Blank Slate (to which this blog owes its name), on his personal choice of being childless:
Well into my procreating years I am, so far voluntarily childless, having squandered my biological resources reading and writing, doing research, helping out friends and students, and jogging in circles, ignoring the solemn imperative to spread my genes. By Darwinian standards I am a horrible mistake, a pathetic loser, not one iota less than if I were a card-carrying member of Queer Nation. But I am happy to be that way, and if my genes don’t like it, they can go jump in the lake.
Amen! Take that, genetic predilection!
P.S. More on this subject by Amit Varma here. (I think the poem he has quoted in this post doesn’t quite capture the gist of the argument though.)