AN AMERICAN BOY of 15, little internet cleverclogs that he is, used state-of-the-art online services to track down the man whose donated sperm gave him his life. So pleased was our boy sleuth with his handiwork that he has detailed the procedure in order that others might follow — and, at a stroke, deterred thousands from any thoughts of romancing a Petri dish.

That they will be deterred is not in doubt. In April this year a change in British law disallowed anonymity for donors; in August — and, again, yesterday — clinics reported the critical lack of supply that they had feared and prepared to import from abroad, where mostly a man may still donate without fear of a shriek of “Daddy Dearest!” in 18 years’ time.

Now, thanks to the efforts of the whiz-kid, even that loophole is likely to be closed as experts say that promises of anonymity are going to be difficult to honour absolutely. Waiting lists for the infertile will grow, with all the misery that entails, and potential whole lives will be lost. And all for what? All for the absurd notion, as enshrined in a British mindset that needs a radical overhaul, that children have a “right” to know from whence they came.

They don’t. They might like to know, they might prefer to know, they might even be agonisingly curious. But the assuaging of curiosity is not a right, it is a luxury; try it out upon orphaned African children without identity or shoes and see which they pick. Equally luxurious is the “fulfilment of a sense of self”, which gooey psychobabble claims that children need and can only get from a knowledge of their biological history; millions have — and do, even in apparently kosher, married nuclear families — wander this planet without any inkling of their real DNA and are none the worse for their ignorance.

The only thing that need be stored with ejaculate is any detail that could carry medical implication; the only thing that the fruit of it need know is that, once upon a time, a woman really, really wanted him enough to go through the grisly procedure that donation involves.

That is a great deal more certainty than many will ever have, and if the fortunate recipients of it could just stop whining about their half-empty cup, they might find the time to lift it, half-full instead, in a silent toast of deserved gratitude to the two people who made their existence possible.