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In the February 2025 issue, Schüklenk reminds us of the journal's openness to articles in bioethics that address environmental problems [1]. In this letter, we wish to respond to such an invitation by proposing a rather uncomfortable but critical rethinking of what is commonly assumed to be natural, necessary, and non-negotiable: the reproduction of human children. We argue that humanoid children, defined here as non-sentient artificial beings designed to resemble and interact like humans in physical, emotional, and social ways, could serve as a complementary response to three pressing dilemmas: (1) the anti-natalist objection to procreation due to suffering, (2) the imperative to reduce carbon emissions in the face of intensifying climate change, and (3) the looming generational gap resulting from demographic aging in countries such as South Korea and Japan. We aim to create an open space for ethical reflection and public dialogue, rather than dismissing the proposition as mere science fiction or technophilia. In theory, humanoid children are socially interactive systems that, while lacking sentience, can be programmed to exhibit emotionally responsive behaviors, thus simulating familiar forms of care, affection, and attachment. We do not claim that these connections are equal to those formed with sentient human beings. However, we argue that the human capacity to form meaningful bonds with non-human entities, such as pets, dolls, or even fictional characters, can also be expressed through emotionally fulfilling yet morally safer alternatives to traditional procreation in light of the anti-natalist objection. A genuine connection between humans and humanoid children is not only possible but also deserves ethical reconsideration, largely because it avoids bringing new sentient beings into existence who may suffer in ways akin to human lived and embodied experience. This suggestion does not imply that human children are inherently wrong or that parenting should be outsourced to machines. Instead, we wish to broaden the ethical conversation. If some people, moved by climate anxiety or a commitment to reduce suffering, choose to form a family with a humanoid child that may require no food, water, or other biological resources, no one has a clear and compelling reason to condemn such a choice. This is especially true when the decision is made without ill intent and when the intending individuals possess the resources and capacities necessary to raise the humanoid child(ren). After all, it is the height of speciesism to assume that the ability to form families and to love is exclusive to humans or beings of the same species. The environmental implications of manufacturing humanoid children must be taken seriously. However, if designed with sustainability in mind, their overall ecological footprint could be significantly lower than that of a human child [2]. This is not a rejection of human procreation, nor an attempt to place humanoid children above human children. Instead, in the face of extraordinary circumstances like the climate crisis, society, culture, and the world at large must remain open to a thoughtful range of innovations, even those that challenge prevailing norms, if they offer potential to redefine how we respond to these crises. This is especially relevant when there is a clear, voluntary desire among a minority or select group to have humanoid children. If anything, the climate impact may be a secondary or indirect outcome. Humanoid children may also reshape how population decline is understood across aging societies worldwide. Demographic aging is typically analyzed in terms of its socio-economic consequences and the continuity of family identity as a social unit. The former concerns whether humanoid children could plausibly be regarded as part of the population for purposes such as dependency ratios, participation in social functions, and potentially alleviating the pressures of an aging workforce. The latter, tied to biological continuity, can be reinterpreted with humanoid children, who sustain the social and emotional roles defining family identity, as noted above through human–non-human bonds. With respect to dependency, social participation, and intergenerational roles, our definition of humanoid children is neither age-bound nor constrained by conventional developmental categories; rather, from the perspective of caregivers, it may extend into adulthood. This flexibility is not intended to evade essentialist critiques, but to accommodate the autonomous and diverse preferences of those who choose to form families with humanoid children, thereby offering a potential social response to the challenges posed by demographic aging. In the end, the perceived value of human children is intertwined with the still-unresolved question of their moral status—a complex issue that remains open to further research. If humanoid children were to become a reality, our moral responsibilities toward them would likely be shaped not by their sentience, but by the roles they come to play in the lives, relationships, and values of those who choose to raise them. Such a possibility would signal a shift in how we understand family and parenting—grounded in care, connection, and ethical intention, rather than biological ties alone. N.F.P. formulated the central argument of the letter, while the co-authors contributed to the development of supplementary sub-arguments. The authors have nothing to report. The authors declare no conflicts of interest. The authors have nothing to report.