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Chinese families in Beijing and other urban areas where the one-child policy has been relaxed seem reluctant to have more children. Photograph: Wang Zhao/Getty
Chinese families in Beijing and other urban areas where the one-child policy has been relaxed seem reluctant to have more children. Photograph: Wang Zhao/Getty

Easing of China’s one-child policy has not produced a baby-boom

This article is more than 9 years old
Demographers predict Beijing will face common problems of an ageing population in coming decades as few urban couples choose to have a second child

When China declared it was relaxing its one-child policy in late 2013, marketing director Kang Lu talked to her husband about whether they wanted a second baby. “But given our current circumstances, we quickly abandoned the idea,” she said. “It wasn’t a tough decision.”

They weren’t alone. So far, a good number of Chinese families have been less than enthusiastic about the partial relaxation of the policy, choosing to stick with one child, often for practical and economic reasons, but also because decades of government propaganda have convinced them that one child really is best.

Experts say this only underlines a looming demographic crisis in China: low fertility rates, a rapidly ageing population and a shrinking labour force will inevitably put immense strains on the economy in the decades ahead, and on the government’s ability to pay people’s pensions. It is so severe a problem, some experts predict it could ultimately threaten the legitimacy of Communist party rule.

Yet for many urban couples in modern China, having a second child is not an attractive option. There are no kindergartens here for children under three, while the market for nannies is unregulated, and tales of neglect are rife. Kang’s parents had moved to Beijing for three years to help look after their daughter, but now felt too old to help.

Kang also has ambitions for her career, but was faced with the prospect of giving up those ambitions – or giving up her job entirely – to care for a second child. In Beijing’s soaring housing market, Kang and her husband couldn’t afford a larger apartment, which they figured they would need if they had a boy. And they were worried that the capital’s smoggy air could affect a new baby’s health.

“The joy and happiness my daughter brought us is worth anything,” she said. “I am 36 and I know this could be my last chance to have another baby. But I very much doubt the joy of having another baby would outweigh these practical obstacles. Besides, I am an only child,” she said. “In my mind, one child is good enough.”

China’s one-child policy successfully slowed the country’s birth rate, but has led to new economic and political concerns about an ageing population. Photograph: Sutton-Hibbert/Rex Features

China’s controversial one-child policy was introduced in 1980 but partially relaxed just over a year ago. Under the new rules, couples in China are allowed a second child if either parent was an only child. Rural couples can have a second if their first child is a girl.

The policy was rolled out during 2014, with Beijing one of the first provinces to relax the rules. Still, only 6.7% of eligible couples in the capital applied for permission to have a second child in the 10 months since the rules changed; nationally, take-up has been higher, but with fewer than 1 million couples applying it was still below government forecasts.

The data reflects how a combination of the one-child policy, rapid urbanisation and rising incomes have dramatically reduced fertility rates in China. That may have stabilised the population, but it has brought in its wake a new set of problems. As its population ages, China is racing toward a “demographic precipice,” says Wang Feng, a professor of sociology at the University of California at Irvine.

The nation’s fertility rate, of 1.4 children per woman, is way below that of the US and the developed world average, and will lead inexorably to a rapid ageing of society: that means a substantial decline in the supply of labour to power the economy, and a rapidly escalating number of old people.

As the economy slows, government revenue growth will slow, even as the financial burden from the elderly rises. Sooner or later, he says, that means the government will simply run out of money to pay for pensions, or finance growing healthcare costs.

“This challenges the legitimacy of the political system, which claims to be able to do this kind of thing,” he says. “And I am not talking about the long and distant future — I am really talking about the next 10 or 15 years.”

China’s working population fell for a third straight year in 2014, declining by 3.7 million to 916 million people, according to data released last month, in a trend that is expected to accelerate. Meanwhile, the number of people aged 60 and above will approach 400 million, or a quarter of the population, in the early 2030s, according to UN forecasts, from one-seventh now.

Children eating ice cream in Pingyao. The government of China has for many years enforced a ‘one child per family’ policy in attempt to kerb population growth. Photograph: Dan Chung

In December, a group of more than 50 leading demographers came together in Shanghai to appeal for further relaxation in family planning policy, though experts say that even a total abandonment of the one-child policy tomorrow would do nothing to relieve the problem for decades.

Yet the government is dragging its feet, unable to completely turn its back on a policy that has empowered (and often enriched) thousands of often corrupt officials for decades.

Mao Qu’nan, the chief spokesman for the government’s National Health and Family Planning Commission, maintains that the size of China’s population is still a more pressing problem than the fact that it is ageing. Those who say otherwise, he said, “have malicious intentions to damage the Chinese government in the name of birth control.” Family planning policy would be relaxed further over time, but the government had no timetable in mind. Wang says the spokesman is “deeply trapped in the outdated belief in birth control.” He complains that “incompetent, irresponsible and unaccountable officials” refuse to change a policy that has caused untold misery and will soon have serious economic and political consequences.

Birth rates in East Asia are generally low, demographers point out, and an ageing population has already emerged as a problem in Japan. In China, families’ driving ambitions for their offspring to succeed means many parents are happier to concentrate on a single child.

“My husband and I provide everything we can for our daughter,” Kang said. “We pay for her to go to her favourite ballet class. We plan to send her overseas when she grows up. But if we had another baby, I don’t think we could do all this for both of them.”

In contrast, freelance writer Li Yue had a second baby by accident. Conceived before the policy was relaxed, she was lucky that the baby was born after the rules changed, and she escaped a heavy fine. But she still did not escape society’s disapproval.

“Many people have been brainwashed by one-child policy propaganda, including my mum,” she said. “When I told her I was having a second child, she thought it was unacceptable. She didn’t call me or talk to me for a month.”

Li said she was an only child, as were all of her six cousins, and they all used to believe one child was best.

“Before my first daughter came into the world, I only planned to have one baby. But when I saw my daughter, the joy, the happiness made me want to have more babies,” she said. “Now, my mum loves my younger daughter very much. She has moved to our place to help look after her. And she has even started to persuade other people to have a second child.”

This article appeared in Guardian Weekly, which incorporates content from the Washington Post

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