My maternal grandmother was the youngest but one of a Victorian family of ten; her oldest brothers were about twenty years older than her. It doesn't seem at all morally inappropriate that she should have cared about her nearest siblings much more than those hardly-known distant figures who left home when she was a toddler. And she manifested her favouritism in all kinds of ways: surely nothing morally amiss with that! And no doubt the older children who were still at home had their various favourites among the little ones too -- surely nothing amiss with that either so long as no one got too left out. So I can't see that there is anything wrong per se about having favourite siblings and manifesting that favouritism. Where things get more problematic is when numbers get small: it could indeed, as Sean says, then be wrong to manifest preferences too much. But suppose that (because of a family tragedy) you and cousins were brought up together from young: then surely the same would apply. So...

But d oes a person have a right to have children? I surely don't have a right that someone else should be sufficiently inclined to procreate with me so that I end up with children produced the old fashioned way (I don't have a right that you or anyone else should find me sexually attractive enough, even when you've had a few drinks: no one owes that to me). Nor, surely, do I have a right that someone or or some agency should provide me with the means to have a child in some new-fangled artificial way. It might be permissible for me to have childen, other things being equal. And perhaps I normally have a right not to be prevented from having children (just as I have a right not to be prevented from doing lots of other permissible things). And perhaps further, we even have some sort of right that social arrangements are not such as to make it very difficult for us to try to fulfil that basic human desire (at least in moderation – though what if disaster would ensue if...

Just three quick afterthoughts, to add to Nicholas Smith's and Jyl Gentzler's wise but perhaps slightly daunting words. First, remember most teenagers do survive just fine (with a bit of a close shave here, and an emotional storm or two there): it is our burden as parents to worry far too much. So when your daughter tells you to lighten up, she's probably exactly right! Second, in any case, the big things that matter -- like your daughter's level of self-esteem, her self-confidence, how she regards men, and so on -- were shaped years ago. It's too late to do very much about them, and being over-protective won't help one bit. So the best thing you can do now is to be positive and supportive in her next phase of growing up. And third, to get back to the question originally asked: is it wrong to let her go out? Well, how could it possibly be wrong, if she's an ordinary girl wanting to do ordinary things? I can't see any compelling moral principle that has that implication. So just set some...

"In some ways one might welcome the fact that they are being brought up by one parent in such an unusual and distinct manner, as compared with the majority of their peers." Oh, really? I think not. The kids are being subject to child abuse of a rather nasty kind (how else should we describe telling children that their greatgrandmother is going to be damned to hell?). Of course, saying that doesn't settle how you should respond to the abuse. I agree with Oliver Leaman at least in this much: future influences are likely to counteract some of the effects. A healthy teenage dose of sex, drugs, and rock'n'roll will probably do wonders. Still, you don't want your kids getting too caught up in some superstitious farrago in the meantime. What to do? I'd suggest some cheerful urbanity and gentle mockery (after all, kids rarely like to think that they are being uncool and rather silly ). But why not try some philosophy too? Press the obvious questions with wit and good-humour when the occasion arises: ...