Samantha Collins 
Sperm are stupid. They’re among the smallest cells in a man’s body, single-minded and unwavering. (Women’s eggs are among the most complex human cells—read into that what you will.)
A typical fertile, healthy young man produces over 100 million spermatozoa, or sperm cells, in his testicles every day—if he doesn’t ejaculate, the sperm eventually die and get reabsorbed—and that can be frightening, if you’re trying to avoid having children in a country hell-bent on making pregnancy high-stakes. Sperm also can be an ick: For months, when I told people I was working on a story about the state of sperm, I watched women roll their eyes, and I heard a lot of men make jokes—usually the Monty Python bit: Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is great—before asking in a more serious tone, But wait, why?
Because sperm may be stupid, but current research suggests their situation is no joke. In the United States, sexual activity is down. Pregnancy and fertility rates are down. The amount and quality of sperm in American men’s semen is believed to be down—experts I spoke to generally agreed on this, though they said more research is needed—a state for which studies have implicated things like ultra-processed foods, forever chemicals, and air pollution.Big names around the world have been sounding an alarm about a fertility crisis, though some seem to be, characteristically, pursuing individual solutions.
Earth’s wealthiest man, White House influencer Elon Musk, reportedly has had at least 14 children. Last September he appeared to publicly offer to impregnate fellow billionaire Taylor Swift, to gallantly save her from a childless cat lady’s fate. Telegram founder Pavel Durov, who has claimed to have helped more than 100 couples conceive through sperm donation, has reportedly offered to finance in vitro fertilization (IVF) treatment at a Moscow clinic for any eligible women who agree to use his sperm. A lot of men, it appears, are obsessed with disseminating their stuff, and thanks to technology and a lack of regulation, even nonbillionaires can realize paternal fantasies once reserved for kings and warlords.
Sperm are stupid. They’re among the smallest cells in a man’s body, single-minded and unwavering. (Women’s eggs are among the most complex human cells—read into that what you will.)
A typical fertile, healthy young man produces over 100 million spermatozoa, or sperm cells, in his testicles every day—if he doesn’t ejaculate, the sperm eventually die and get reabsorbed—and that can be frightening, if you’re trying to avoid having children in a country hell-bent on making pregnancy high-stakes. Sperm also can be an ick: For months, when I told people I was working on a story about the state of sperm, I watched women roll their eyes, and I heard a lot of men make jokes—usually the Monty Python bit: Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is great—before asking in a more serious tone, But wait, why?
Because sperm may be stupid, but current research suggests their situation is no joke. In the United States, sexual activity is down. Pregnancy and fertility rates are down. The amount and quality of sperm in American men’s semen is believed to be down—experts I spoke to generally agreed on this, though they said more research is needed—a state for which studies have implicated things like ultra-processed foods, forever chemicals, and air pollution.Big names around the world have been sounding an alarm about a fertility crisis, though some seem to be, characteristically, pursuing individual solutions.
Earth’s wealthiest man, White House influencer Elon Musk, reportedly has had at least 14 children. Last September he appeared to publicly offer to impregnate fellow billionaire Taylor Swift, to gallantly save her from a childless cat lady’s fate. Telegram founder Pavel Durov, who has claimed to have helped more than 100 couples conceive through sperm donation, has reportedly offered to finance in vitro fertilization (IVF) treatment at a Moscow clinic for any eligible women who agree to use his sperm. A lot of men, it appears, are obsessed with disseminating their stuff, and thanks to technology and a lack of regulation, even nonbillionaires can realize paternal fantasies once reserved for kings and warlords.
