The other day I was watching happily as my year-old daughter played with stacking cups and muttered adorably at the toys and things around her. As she busied herself I figured I'd flick the TV on and see what's up in the world. As soon as the channel came in, I heard, "A Trans-Atlantic group of scientists have moved the Doomsday Clock forward, to 11:55." They cited the atomic standoffs with North Korea and Iran, and placed great emphasis on climate change. The clock is only symbolic, of course, but it changed my line of thought for some time afterward. It had been quite a while since I had heard any reference to the Doomsday Clock, and I probably regarded it as pessimistic hokum at the time.

I turned off the TV and read her a few colorful books, more for my sake than hers. My mind was still on that news. Our parental worries have been typical for the most part; we don't want her to get hurt, or swallow something dangerous, that sort of thing. Her toddler life is so much about now that I hadn't yet given any thought to her place in the world of tomorrow, and what that tomorrow might look like. Every generation has had its Big Fears, some dire threats on the horizon for the media to chew on. But I had never really approached that concept as a parent.

As I thought about it, she giggled and handed me toys. For me, having a child reinforces --- as perhaps nothing else can --- that the better facets of our species will prevail. I hold on to the simple logic that as long as everybody loves their children, all will be right with the world. Right?