I was thinking more about the news that, last year, American fertility dropped to a new record low of 1.59 children per woman.

Infertility really does seem like a problem that compounds over time. Why do people have children? Because they think it is good and normal, and something that they can do. But lowered fertility and our extreme age segregation in many institutions, including the nuclear family, means that people are less and less exposed to the burdens and joys that come with infant children. Children were once just part of everyone’s normal life. But more recently the sociological reality is that they aren’t — and that children are reserved for this special, limited, 20-year experience of parenthood, a private avocation of some adults but not the norm. When my wife and I had children, we were translated from our old social lives into new ones filled with other parents. The childless life still exists on its own terms, and many of our friends are still in it as they enter their 40s. It’s very different from the childless life that existed a few generations ago, which was reserved for a smaller number of people, who usually did end up contributing a great deal as aunts and uncles.

Lowered and delayed fertility doesn’t just change the social norms that influence our baby-making behavior, it reduces the social resources on which we rely, first role models, and then our support system. Lowered fertility means having fewer aunts, uncles, cousins, and siblings who establish their own households and have families, showing you that you, in your circumstances, can do it. And of course, if your parents waited until their late 30s or early 40s before conceiving you, and you’ve done the same, suddenly grandparents sharing some of the burden of raising the child — even one afternoon a week can be a godsend — is out of the question. Instead, you’ve got two generations in diapers to worry about in the middle of the career crush of middle age. Larger families pool resources, and radically expand moral and (dare I say it?) spiritual resources that are essential for young people to make the leap into parenthood.

In this case, the bad news about compounding deprivation is also good news. It works the opposite way. For the heroic who grew up as only children, latchkey kids, who couple up as adults and invest in a larger family of five or six, there are compounding benefits — particularly as you age and have more children to rely on. When you’re a senior, you never feel like you’re overburdening them with your problems. Those kids can bring yet more people into the fold very quickly. High-fertility outliers in a low-fertility culture are going to discover quickly how powerful the economic and social network of a large family can be in this world. Resources that other people must pay for — like temporary child-care — and whole skill sets get transferred and shared for free among kith and kin, tailored to need. Only families can live this kind of efficient generosity and frugal abundance.