Dan Morris: Infinity and beyond for our children

Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about what my baby daughter will want to do when she’s all grown up. There are many weird and wonderful options available, including of course many vocations that didn’t exist when I was pondering my own future all those years ago.

Back in the late 90s when the 11-year-old that would become this manchild first considered a future as a newshound, professional YouTubers weren’t a thing, influencers were less than influential, and ‘Kardashian’ was just a family name, not a job title.

Indeed, 25 years ago you would have been unlikely (unless you had a time machine) to run into SEO specialists, Uber drivers, CrossFit instructors or app designers.

Most new professions have of course come in tandem with advancements in technology, and considering that my current smart phone is far beyond anything Captain Kirk kept in his locker, I’d say said advancements are proceeding at pace.

Still, thinking about all the jobs that just didn’t exist when I was a kid makes me very excited for what may be in store for my poppet of a princess, just about to round the nine-month mark.

By the time her first high school careers advice session rolls up, she could well be eyeballing a lunar horticulturalist’s position, or indeed be looking to train for the Metaverse Olympics.

As many a grizzled old bloke has said, the world is changing, and we’ve all got to change with it. Big change is often downright frightening – but that, of course, is part of the thrill. I hope that in my lifetime (with, fingers crossed, another 40 years to count on) I’m able to spring for a Space X or Blue Origin trip to the stars (Musk and Bezos have got to look at running a coupon day at some point... again, fingers crossed).

But the fact that my daughter can genuinely look forward to a holiday on the Moon at some point (should progression continue at its current rate) is just incredible.

Going back to the late 90s, I was a skinny kid who lapped up any science fiction the TV dared to serve him. My mum and I spent hours watching Babylon 5, Farscape and every Trek incarnation that BBC2 would whack out on a weekly basis.

Yet even with an imagination filled with wormholes and warp drives, I never believed then that I would live to see normal lads and lasses be able to go into space simply for the jollies of it, or, indeed, to do a normal day job.

If Little Miss Morris can find a future in the stars it’d be fitting – she gave her dad one the moment she was born.

Still, knowing what her heart is likely to hold, I wouldn’t be surprised if she chooses to nurture her soul with something old school and peaceful like gardening – and if she did, I’d be absolutely delighted.

The truth of the matter is, whatever my baby girl decides to do with herself – from astronaut to acrobat or Alphabetti Spaghetti taster – it will be her choice, and that really is exciting.

There’s a wonderful road ahead for her, and all of her generation. Where it will take them, nobody can really say, but the journey looks set to be fantastic and – perhaps literally – out of this world.

Wherever you go and whatever you do sweetheart, your mum and I will always be there to help you, guide you, and give you the support that you deserve along with the wings you need to fly. And you can remember that in 35 years when I’m in my rocking chair still waiting for that Space X ticket.

I love you, Button. Just always remember, my darling, don’t just chase money. Trust your heart, chase your dreams and try to do what you do for one reason alone – because you adore it.

Sure, it can be nice to have a bit of cash – but no amount of money ever bought a single second of time. Use yours well, my buttercup, and never forget how proud of you I always will be.