Instead of or in addition to advancing arguments why not
- Open a really neat bar or restaurant,
- Hang out in a really neat bar or restaurant, looking to hook up with someone,
- Create some yummy porn and give it away for free,
- Program a really neat video game.
What do these items have in common? Well, they’re all adult activities, they’re all fun for someone, and they’re all harder to do for people with children. They raise the opportunity cost of having children, because having children takes away from fun times out or even just playing video games (ask any parent if you really must). The more adult fun in the world, the less people will want to have children. From a philanthropic antinatalist perspective, this is win-win. Existing people have fun (or at least, the sufferings of their existences are palliated) and future people are never brought into existence and thus never have to suffer at all.
I am shamelessly stealing an idea here from the psychologist Geoffrey Miller, who uses a similar concept to explain the Fermi paradox. Why don’t we see alien civilizations out there? Maybe because once they got sophisticated enough they managed to amuse themselves into extinction.
Most bright alien species probably go extinct gradually, allocating more time and resources to their pleasures, and less to their children.
Although Miller also notes the existence of a version of the Shaker problem.
My dangerous idea-within-an-idea is that this, too, is already happening. Christian and Muslim fundamentalists, and anti-consumerism activists, already understand exactly what the Great Temptation is, and how to avoid it. They insulate themselves from our Creative-Class dream-worlds and our EverQuest economics. They wait patiently for our fitness-faking narcissism to go extinct. Those practical-minded breeders will inherit the earth, as like-minded aliens may have inherited a few other planets. When they finally achieve Contact, it will not be a meeting of novel-readers and game-players. It will be a meeting of dead-serious super-parents who congratulate each other on surviving not just the Bomb, but the Xbox. They will toast each other not in a soft-porn Holodeck, but in a sacred nursery.
And that does look like a real problem to me.