I’m of an age where my friends and peers have reached that stage of our progression to the grave commonly termed “settling down”. Erstwhile young bravos are tentatively investigating upholstery and kitchen goods. Formerly footloose artists are sizing up mortgage contracts. Red-hot revolutionaries are stealing sheepish glances at pram catalogues. The ongoing collapse of print journalism is likely to spare me from the gadarene stampede towards propriety – but no man is an island.

In that spirit, I was surprised to find that several of my friends were strongly considering adopting children rather than bearing their own. Their reasoning – shared by a surprising number of young people – is that the ongoing implosion of our planet’s ecology makes bringing new life into the world questionably ethical.