From philosophers to mathematicians to everyday folk, and even by bloggers, the question has been raised. "How many people have ever lived on earth, total?" There are websites devoted to long scientific formulas (which I don't understand), and numerous pages that give the sought-after to answer the curious.
The Population Reference Bureau says: "Any estimate of the total number of people who have ever been born will depend basically on two factors: (1) the length of time humans are thought to have been on Earth and (2) the average size of the human population at different periods." < http://www.prb.org/Template.cfm?Section=PRB&template=/ContentManagement/ContentDisplay.cfm&ContentID=7421 >
StraightDope < http://www.straightdope.com/classics/a2_085.html > says: "Demographers have come up with estimates ranging between 69 billion and 110 billion humans. This gives us a spread of 41 billion, a pretty formidable margin of error." After an article discussing the factors invoilved, the Population Reference Bureau gives the simple answer of:
106,456,367,669
I've wondered about the "how many total" question as a genealogist/historian, especially after a day of taking a cemetery census or scouring old and new obituaries for names of persons in my "tree." Especially difficult for a genealogist is the realization of ALL the babies and children who have died throughout time. Somehow, that seems especially cruel. Those lives never came to survive and experience all the joys and hurts of being alive.
A detailed article could be written about all the factors that have robbed us of millions of lives. Of course, the reasons include: poor diet, poor sanitation, lack of antibiotics, poor healthcare... floods, famines, earthquakes, and other natural disasters including blizzards... epidemics of flu, contagious diseases like measles, AIDS, and still today, something simple like pneumonia.... For babies, everything from the common cold to Sudden Infant Death Syndrome and Infanticide have determined whether a fragile young life would see another birthday.
But, my thoughts are not about the factual causes of deaths. My question is more philosophical, as a simple: Why? Why were those lives taken and what would they have become had they lived? How would their life had impacted the family group? One child could have changed an entire family's destiny. What numbers of creative and loving people were lost to the world?
I also wonder, what in the universe allowed me to see a 1st birthday, to enter school at 7 (my birthday was after the age cut-off for first grade), to graduate high school and college and nursing school, to have my own child.... ? I feel a certain responsibility when I think of the babies and children who have died. Since my life was allowed to continue, I should make a real effort to make my life count somehow. Seeing how many did not make it, I shouldn't waste the life given to me.
I think about all the mothers of those children, too. I imagine the moms at the moment they were aware of their baby's death, and I imagine each mother's grief when standing near their baby's casket. They say there is no grief more profound than a mother losing a child. Even a mere 50-100 years ago, babies had a higher mortality rate (and that's not counting current trends of infanticide in some countries). As I think of these facts, imagining moms standing by gravesides, the grief that earth has been witness to is simply staggering to realize. Can you imagine that amount of grief? And yet, moms of yesterday and moms of today somehow find a way, a fortitude, to go on with their lives!
Yes, I may be strange, but as I type baby-obituaries for geneaology, I do feel responsible to be a better human being, to be productive in my journey, to acknowledge the gifts given to myself and others. My feelings do not arise from a morbid interest in death, but from a recognition that life remains a constant mystery, and to breath another day is a gift. The hobby of genealogy has built a memorial in my heart for all the young ones whose deaths were marked by tombstones with angels wings carved on them, and mothers' tears rolling from her cheeks as her mind screamed: "Why?"
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