Well, even if he theoretically was, what about it? He's the one that has to decide whether or not his life is worth living or ending. Usually (and by that I mean 97% of the time), life and all the people and memories interwoven weigh quite a damn more than the decision to end it, but in some cases, there is nothing and no one you can dedicate your life to. It is but a step away from being mere trash, only retaining its value because another person (the mother) gave it to you, and ending it would mean ending her dream as well.
In the end, emotions often prevail, but thinking logically would bring us to the question of whether this planet can hold all 8 billion people that currently inhabit it, or not. The answer would be no, and thus we arrive at the conclusion that the more people without a true purpose die, the better for the rest. The only reason we're alive right now is because out of those 8 billion, about 3 billion are on the verge of death, or as it is better known as: modern poverty. The other 4 point something billion are exploiting the rest quite brutally, even if many among them do not deserve to live in the first place.