Fears about a “baby bust” arise from an abundance of hope. The fear is that the number of babies born will steadily decrease, year by year, ending in disaster. The underlying hope is affluence will continue to displace poverty worldwide, as has happened so dramatically since 1950. Affluence generally leads people to have fewer children.
Predictions about human behavior are notoriously speculative, as most responders to the first “Babies Needed” post noted. Malthus was wrong two centuries ago, and recent fears of overpopulation seem to be mistaken, too. Nevertheless, a world of increasing wealth and steadily decreasing births is a real possibility. In fact, it’s real already: None of the world’s 15 richest countries has enough births each year to maintain its population. We need to understand why.
One factor is cultural. I’ve been told that among the Shona people of Africa a pregnant woman is told, with gratitude, that she is carrying “our cousin, our grandfather, our aunt . . . “ In other words, that her child will be part of the community, its history, its present, and its future. We don’t do that. Vicarious joy for new parents is common, but it’s confined to the family itself. Rarely does anyone recognize that the child will enrich us all.
Another factor is practical, and a cause for celebration: Women have choices! We can practice law, drive trucks, start businesses. I remember all too well when we couldn’t. We have better means of controlling our fertility, and I’m grateful for that, too. But dig a little deeper: Why do so many women, so many families, choose to have so few children?
Why do so many women, so many families, choose to have so few children?
Europe and East Asia have long recognized the problem, and have pushed for research into it. Increasing immigration would keep a country’s population stable, but many feel threatened by it. (Those fears require separate discussion.) In any case immigration would likely be a short-term solution: Even Africa’s current high fertility rates are steadily declining. The issue is global and long-term.
By 2000, researchers had identified several factors. One was women entering the paid work force. They did so for the sake of fuller lives, but also for the good of their families. Earning money was more useful than producing babies because – and this is the second factor -- children have become expensive. They’re no longer extra hands to help on the farm. Instead, they need help. Providing the education and support they need is expensive in money, time, and energy.
In South Korea, for instance, children may start school at 8am, attend after-school academies and work with tutors, arriving home only about 11pm. The schedule is crushing and the cost significant, but responsible parents feel they have no choice. In a highly competitive society, their child’s future — college admissions, employment, even marriage prospects – depends on it.
The same is true across East Asia, and to some extent across the developed world: Raising more than one child often requires more than a family (let alone a single parent) can provide.
Recently that familiar story line has gotten some twists. Twenty years ago in the US the most highly educated women had the fewest babies. That’s no longer true. And across the world, even the strong connection between affluence and a shrinking population is weakening. In spite of these changes, the global fertility rate continues to fall.
What’s going on? Analysts now identify another variable (hiding in plain sight, I’d say): the fit between paid work and child-rearing. Women generally want both (like men). Families benefit when each (or the single) parent makes money.
What would help those who want more children?
What would make life easier for those who want more than one child – or who feel that even one is beyond what they can manage? All of the following makes a difference:
Public policy. Cheap and widely available childcare, parental leave policies, even the length of the school day (If school ends around noon, who looks after the kids?) Tax policies. Sometimes regular cash support.
Social norms. In Germany, mothers with full-time jobs are called “raven mothers.” I.e., neglectful.
Involved fathers. In child care of course, but in housework, too. Whether they do that is partly a result of how we structure work lives.
Work lives: daily schedules and career paths. Work hours were becoming more flexible, even before the pandemic. Career paths also matter. Many fields demand years of education and apprenticeship. Often childbirth is delayed as a result. The later one starts, the fewer children one is likely to have. (Conceiving becomes harder; health, finances, and family structure can change.)
I still hope for a world in which those who want children can have as many as they want; one in which lives and family size vary; one in which we understand anyone’s child as a gift to us all. But attitudes don’t exist in a vacuum. They form and are formed by economic structures and by public policy. In the United States, with such strong anti-government and anti-tax leanings, changing government policies will be the hardest. But let’s try.
AfterWords
To learn more: short, well written, and solidly sourced pieces
Continuing change is destabilizing. But there is more to the picture than disruption. Thanks to Bettie Menchik and Jacqueline Stewart for these fuller discussions.
The demographic upheaval (New York Times)
Basic facts (Census Bureau)
In particular, low fertility rates mean that each year the ratio of old to young becomes more topheavy. Fewer young people supporting ever more elders is a hardship. Beyond that, ever fewer young people is loss to us all. We need their energy and creativity, just as we need the long view of elders.
Global power relations will also change. The current top economies will proportionally have smaller working-age populations, while Africa, Southeast Asia, and the Middle East will have more. Working age populations fuel growth. (But see Marilyn Frye’s take on growth, responding to my first post on the issue.) This particular change is a problem only for those who need their country to be perpetually dominant.
Another argument supporting Betty Seagull's point is that the world's fifteen richest countries are not maintaining their population. Those citizens contribute the most to the carbon emissions. Fewer of those citizens might help.
Elizabeth Seagull makes an interesting point. A slippery downward slide in population depends on an uncertain future -- an affluent Africa, in particular -- and until that time the population will continue to rise, exacerbating the climate crisis. So, until the future is more certain, perhaps we should stop encouraging more babies.
What do the rest of you think?