You really only have to seriously worry if you’re a parent responsible for new people. Sound like you? It doesn’t sound like me.

Here’s something I saved from Reddit a while back; it’s a bit cynical, but worth keeping in mind nonetheless.

It’s been a strange realization to slowly understand that a lot of our parents and grandparents hate us. They don’t hate us by name, mind you. The tell us they love us and they’re even empathetic to us to a degree. But if you removed the familial relationship–if you told your parents or grandparents your exact life story but with a different name and from a different family, they’d hate that person before you got through the first sentence. They’d break out all the cliches–bootstraps, lazy millennial, entitled, all the classics. Their empathy and love is purely genealogical, an expectation placed upon them under threat of social stigmas against being a “bad parent,” which they may well abandon too if that particular tradition is broken by some political figure famous enough and depraved enough to normalize it.

Collectively, the young who will outlive you are but labor and taxpayers. Caring about anyone else’s lifetime past your death largely doesn’t exist past kin and close friends.