What do the men on the following list have in common:

Ludwig van Beethoven
Nicolaus Copernicus
Rene Descartes
Edward Gibbon
Horace
Soren Kierkegaard
Sir Isaac Newton
Blaise Pascal
George Santayana
Adam Smith
Leonardo da Vinci
St. Paul

Two things, really.  First, they are some of the great minds and talents of Western Civilization.  Second, they were all bachelors.  In this piece in The New English Review, Christopher Orlet considers the benefits of bachelorhood.  Marriage has its champions, but not all were meant for it.  And I’ve known many good men who have been called to a life of celibacy (not that all bachelors are celibates, by any stretch).

Some years ago a noted Japanese researcher analyzed the biographical data of some 280 famous mathematicians, physicists, chemists, and biologists and discovered that all peaked professionally in their twenties, at which point their careers spiraled downward. Married scientists suffered the worst decline in productivity. However, those who never married remained highly productive well into their fifties. “Scientists tend to ‘desist’ from scientific research upon marriage,” the researcher told an interviewer, “just like criminals desist from crime upon marriage.” One theory suggests married men lack an evolutionary reason to continue working hard (i.e., to attract females). Though it likely they similarly lack the prerequisite time and solitude.

I might qualify Orlet’s statement to say that married men don’t suffer a decline in productivity.  They just produce other things that are more commonplace: babies, families, other kinds of work.  But I can testify: my most productive years of writing – at least regarding quantity – were in my twenties, in graduate school, when I was without wife or child.  I worked 18 hour days, mostly writing and reading and talking about both.  Those were halcyon days.  I still write now, but in far less quantity and hopefully far more quality.  Nevertheless, I am productive.  I have the human beings to show for it.