Childless and childfree Men and women who don’t have children are rarely given a voice to speak about their choices. They are often assumed to be deficient in some way, or selfish, or that they will be ambushed by their biological clock inevitably and change their minds. In this groundbreaking series, people who have chosen not to have kids tell their stories. It shows how conservative the world in which we live still is when it comes to children, and as an extension of that, how not having children becomes such a transgressive act, that it ends up unlocking some deeper meaning of life for many.

Nesrine, Better Politics correspondent
The Guardian: ‘Childfree’ (series)
Autonomous vehicles fuelled by imagination: the fiction of self-driving cars An entire literary genre has hatched around autonomous vehicles while driverless cars are nowhere to be seen. As Patrick McGinty writes: “Book-length analysis has sped past tech-sector hype”. His reflections on that mismatch serve as starting point for a relentless (but very funny) takedown of the autonomous vehicle (AV) sector, notorious for making lofty promises that lack grounding in reality. As McGinty takes the reader through the three separate waves he identifies during his review of the ample AV literature body, he doesn’t hide his dismay at an "industry" (he considers it a misnomer given the sector’s lack of actual produce) that’s never moved past the “chimerical vehicles” of its imagination. Could the main problem with self-driving cars be that they lack the prospect of "cargasms"? I leave you with McGinty’s capable pen to explore that question in acerbic style.

Carmen, member support manager
The Baffler: ‘Driving into the Wreck" (reading time: 25 minutes)
The ‘held note’ of silence in a loved one’s death ‘We Vietnamese believe the dead can still be nourished by our offerings and goodwill—even long after their death. She lights a bundle of incense and places a photo of him on the table between a steaming plate of rice and tofu braised in soy sauce and green beans.’ I come back to this 2014 article sometimes to drink in the sorrow of another culture and how it copes in universal situations such as dealing with the dreadful fact of a family member’s suicide. This piece of writing by Ocean Vuong transports you: the different lights of the sky reflecting on the very deep bond of an immigrant uncle and his immigrant nephew; of the structures around us in the world we live in, be it an unstable fire escape or a cold window pane or a bowl of steaming hot noodles, or even your own grief-ridden body, and how all of these objects, sensations, colours, living and unliving things help another process their longing for a loved one. I deliberately have not read more of the Ho Chi Minh City-born young writer’s work (such as his hit ‘On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous’), because I would like to be alone in reflection when I do, the trees swaying above me, the air warm, the time passing gently.

Nabeelah, conversation editor
The Rumpus: ‘The weight of our living: on hope, fire escapes and visible desperation’ (reading time: 22 minutes)

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