Having a child

There is one question we almost never ask ourselves when discussing the demographic winter: what if it were not just a matter of money? Low wages, unaffordable housing, a shortage of nurseries, precarious employment: all true. But there is one factor that cuts across rich and poor countries alike, whether they have generous or modest welfare systems: the feeling that tomorrow’s world will be worse than today’s.

A major article published in the Financial Times by Camilla Cavendish suggests we should look at an overlooked factor: social contagion. In over two-thirds of the world’s countries, fertility is below the replacement rate of 2.1 children per woman. Decisions do not arise in a vacuum. We look to friends, colleagues and people we follow on social media. If having children becomes the exception, we stop seeing it as the norm. Swedish and German studies show that when a female colleague becomes a mother, the likelihood of other women in the same environment having a child increases. Parenthood is also about imitation: to be conceivable, it must be visible.

This is where pessimism comes into play. There is not just a negative narrative surrounding motherhood. There is a more general one, concerning the future. For years we have been telling ourselves that our children will have a worse life than we do, that the planet is doomed, that democracy is on the brink of collapse, that technology will destroy jobs, and that wars will multiply. Each fear has some basis in reality. Yet the sum of plausible fears does not always produce a realistic picture of the world; it can lead to a paralysing conviction: it is better not to bet on tomorrow. And a child, even before being a financial burden, is precisely this: a bet that the future is worth living for.

This is the paradox of affluent countries. Whilst many material aspects of life have improved compared with those of our grandparents, we have developed a systematic lack of confidence in our ability to pass on to our children a life worth living. A country that portrays itself as hopeless should not be surprised if its citizens hesitate to bring children into the world who will have to live there.

The desire to have children, however, has not disappeared. A study by Ester Lazzari and Eva Beaujouan, cited by the Financial Times, finds that in ten countries with low fertility rates, up to half of people, by the end of their childbearing years, regret not having had more children. Policies certainly do matter: wages, housing, nurseries, parental leave, and opportunities for women not to have to choose between career and family. But something is also needed that no financial incentive can buy: trust. Cavendish reports that at TSMC in Taiwan and Lotte in South Korea – companies offering tangible support for parenthood – births amongst employees are much more frequent than the national averages. Material support and a supportive cultural climate go hand in hand.

This is not about blaming those who do not want children, nor is it about asking women to sacrifice the freedoms they have won. There is no evidence that pessimism is the main cause of the falling birth rate. But it could explain part of that hesitation that turns a desire into a postponement, and a postponement into a renunciation. The challenge is not to convince people to have children. It is to rebuild a society in which bringing a child into the world does not seem like an act of recklessness, but a reasonable expression of confidence.