One thing is certain: in modern democracies, government policies do little to persuade people to have more children. Births are also falling in the Nordic countries, which offer parents generous tax breaks, parental leave, child care and cash benefits.
As smaller families become the new normal, Spain is a case study in how to successfully manage the transition. But success comes with costs and risks. Spain is one example.
Plunging birth rates have left countries with unfavorable options to maintain economic growth and finances, including increasing immigration, raising taxes, cutting public services and pensions, and delaying retirement. Or all of the above.
Spain, which lags behind other major Western countries in birth rates and is roughly on par with Italy, has chosen to accept more immigrants. In the late 1990s, only 3% of Spain’s population were immigrants. Today, they make up more than 17 percent of the population, one of the highest shares in Europe and more than in the United States.
This provided workers and fueled the country’s vibrant growth, despite record-low birth rates last year. The number of children born per woman is just under 1.2 children, far below the so-called replacement level of 2.1 children required to maintain population balance over the long term.
The reasons for the decline in births are well-known, particularly the expanding options available to women as the workforce grows, and are more or less common across developed countries.
In Spain, young workers earn modest salaries (usually around $20,000 a year) in jobs that often have limited terms. This isn’t enough to pay the rising rents caused by gentrification, inflation, and Airbnb, so college graduates typically live with their parents, sometimes for years, while starting their careers. Therefore, many things can be postponed, such as forming a couple and having children.
While visiting Madrid, I saw babies and toddlers in restaurants, along wide boulevards, and in El Retiro, the city’s most beautiful park. But children often ride in carriages or strollers pushed by middle-aged mothers or gray-haired fathers. Older siblings rarely showed up.
For young Spaniards and other Europeans, raising children is not considered very cool. Sure, it’s not as cool as traveling, hanging out with friends, or pursuing a career. About a quarter of Spanish women born in the mid-1970s have no children. Even in the United States, where the birth rate is high, the number is rapidly increasing among young women.
When I interviewed a group of graduate students at Universidad Carlos III in Madrid, not a single one had the slightest interest in becoming parents in the near future.
“My mother gave birth to me when she was 39, so I’ve never worried about this,” said Muria Erasti, 23, a master’s candidate in data science. She said, “I want to enjoy life and travel while I’m young.”
Demographers say Spain’s declining birthrate is made worse by the cost of raising a child, which costs about $700 a month, and the time-consuming nature of helicopter parenting. For those considering having children, widespread anxiety has made some feel more hesitant about bringing a baby into a world plagued by recessions, pandemics, wars and climate change. Masu.
Fertility rates in France, the United Kingdom, Norway, Hungary, and Poland are also falling. Finland’s birth rate has fallen to its lowest level in 246 years. Disappointing Italians say their country is “a nation of empty cribs”. For this reason, Pope Francis denounced the “selfishness” that leads young people to prefer pets over babies. In France, President Emmanuel Macron, alarmed by the declining birthrate, declared “population rearmament”.
In Spain, there is little destructive rhetoric but a lot of personal pain. Demographers cite polls that show people want more babies than they have. Fertility clinics in Spain are booming with women in their late 30s and 40s who have been looking forward to conceiving but are now faced with the biological fact that time passes. Become.
At Ginefib, a group of sophisticated fertility clinics in Madrid, staff psychologists support patients in long-term treatment for whom cancer treatment alone can be overwhelming, says medical director Joaquín. Mr. Lhassel said. “No one worries about infertility because no one knows the suffering of infertile patients,” he told me.
But a surge in immigration is fueling Spain’s strong economic growth, which has outpaced most European countries. Spanish law smoothed the path for immigrants, especially Latin Americans who shared linguistic and cultural affinities with Spain. They can easily work legally and become eligible for citizenship after just two years.
Spain’s model may be difficult to replicate in other parts of Europe, where radical right-wing, anti-immigration parties dominate. Spain’s own immigration-bashing party, Vox, faded in last year’s elections after a brief success five years ago.
Risk remains. Spain probably cannot increase its birth rate, but the jury is out on whether it can at least stabilize it with smarter policies. Promoting more stable employment for young workers could lead to more spending on child-rearing households in Spain, which accounts for half of the economic output spent in many Nordic countries.
The baby bust is here to stay. Spain shows how to manage it.
