A pregnant Chinese colleague of mine panicked after a call and informed us that she had to rush to the hospital. Without probing too much, I asked her if she was fine.
'It isn't looking good', she replied.
I understood.
The couple have a child, but she was hoping to have a second one. Quite natural, I thought.
My colleague was in her mid- 40s, she thought it would be a challenge, but they tried.
This was 2016. Just a few months after China dropped the one-child policy, and 'allowed' couples to have two-children.
I thought to myself, 'Can the state decide when should you have a child?'.
Well in China, they do.
In 1979, soon after economic reforms were ushered, the state introduced a one-child policy. A temporary measure to free up labour, but the move paid rich dividends. No, not because the State tightened birth control measures, but loosened its hold over the economy. The economic boom gave China a double-digit growth for close to two decades, lifted millions out of poverty, educated the young, and inspired generations to pursue their economic goals.
While society transformed, the fertility rate declined - way below the 'replacement rate'. The state-planned economy had enough wealth, and the strain over country's welfare measure could be borne.
But does the country have enough workforce to sustain the economic vigor?
Not really, by 2035, an estimated 400 million people in China will be age 60 and over, representing 30% of the population, and that's according to the government's own projections.
My colleague who wanted to have a second child, who could've contributed to a young workforce, wasn't lucky. Of course, the State could argue miscarriages are possible even at a younger age, even if data confronts that older women are more likely to experience a miscarriage than younger women (27% of pregnancies end in a miscarriage at age 40 compared to 16% at age 30 or younger).
The misguided policy brought with it, its own unintended consequences. Since couples preferred having more sons than daughters, orphanages experienced a surge in girls.
The gender-ratio skewed.
Now, young men are struggling to find a bride. The families of eligible bachelors are willing to pay a handsome 'bride price', including property, to find a right partner in a marriage market that has millions of girls missing. Unlike in India, where the women's family pays a dowry, in China rural families pay a material guarantee for any future wife.
When the 7th nationwide census came out in 2020, it was clear that the population was aging, fewer young children and an aging workforce. There was a demographic shift, which brings its own economic strains. This is even prompting the government to consider increasing the retirement official retirement age, currently 60 for men and 55 for women.
In 2021, the State further relaxed the family planning policy to have three-children, still keeping a 'leash' on a couple's choice. Moreover, some counties offered cash incentives, cracked down on 'bride price' and went as far as to ban private-tutoring industry. A move directed at making education less financially stressful.
Unfortunately, unlike doling out subsidies its indigenous industries, China hasn't been successful at incentivizing the 'human production' industry yet. High childcare costs, a nascent parental leave policy, and less supportive childcare facilities, has not encouraged people to reproduce more.
As China launches a nationwide survey to find out reasons for its flagging birthrate, future generations, including my colleague's child, is likely to look back at the stringent one-child policy in daze and disbelief.
P.S. I thought of former Union Health Minister's Ghulam Nabi Azad's statement to watch TV in order to keep a check on the baby boom as bizarre, when I think of it now, he does make sense! Campaigns like 'Hum do Hamaare do' are classic examples of educating your masses instead of snatching that choice from your citizens!
No comments:
Post a Comment