European Governments Battle the Continent's Birth Dearth
When Spain's Prime Minister JosÈ RodrÌguez Zapatero this summer revealed a plan to offer women 2,500 euros ($3,400) to have more children, he was seeking to reverse a future in which the elderly would outnumber the working young -- a demographic trend that affects not only Spain, but also the entire continent.
For almost a generation, wealthy and well-fed Europe has been bringing forth too few children to replenish its graying population for the coming decades. Save Ireland, and possibly amorous France, birthrates have dipped far below the replacement level of 2.1, giving the old continent an overall average of 1.5 births per woman -- rates that make North American women look like fertility goddesses at 2.08 apiece.
Even in Mediterranean countries such as Italy, Spain, and Greece, which at one time exemplified the Biblical tradition of fruitful families, and which stood for the defense of rigid religious values, childlessness is fast gaining acceptance. So much so, that Spain, for instance, is expected to shed 10 million of its inhabitants by 2050 -- despite the current influx of immigrants who tend to have more babies than the natives.
Demographers starkly warn that a steady decline in numbers lies ahead for many European countries. In Italy, the working-age population is poised to shrivel by 35 percent by 2050. The United Nations estimates Germany's population will dwindle to 75 million from a robust 81 million in the next two decades, while Hungary and Poland will trim their populations by 25 percent and 15 percent respectively.
As nations have started to feel the demographic slip, European politicians have begun to scratch their collective heads over how best to tackle the issue. Fearful of a future in which economies collapse, social ties weaken, and the elderly can no longer be sustained by paltry working-age populations, governments are doing whatever they can to encourage couples to have more children. Almost all nations -- in one way or another -- are beefing up "baby bonuses," and there is even talk of taxing those who have chosen to abstain from the biological imperative of procreation.
After more than three decades of freefalling fertility rates, Germany's response has been to skew government allowances for families to more "baby-specific" ones. Under the Elterngeld (parents' money), new parents can receive up to 67 percent of lost income for a year after the birth of a child. Working parents can also offset 3,000 euros annually of childcare costs against taxes.
According to 2005 statistics collected by the European Union, Germany is the world leader in childless rates, at 30 percent, with the number rising to 40 percent among more educated women. In a culture that even has a word for the dislike of children (Kinderfeindlichkeit -- though it is used more often to delineate a cultural phenomenon as opposed to an individual disposition), rhetoric against childlessness has rippled through the media and blossomed at the governmental level.
The best seller lists have been saturated with titles forecasting impending doom and gloom for Germany. In a 2006 bestseller, "Minimum," conservative writer Frank Schirrmacher (ironically, father of one) resorts to scare-mongering tactics to depict a future devoid of families, and calls upon women to ultimately "save the day." In an in-depth Newsweek report last year, author Stefan Theil notes that the German media has begun to stigmatize the "cold career woman," citing an article that included photos of childfree celebrities. And most will recall the infamous remark made in 2005 by then first lady Schröder-Köpf, attacking her husband's rival Angela Merkel for not having children. "Mrs. Merkel, with her biography, does not embody the experience of most women," Schrˆder-Kˆpf told the German weekly Die Zeit. The stigmatization of the childless and the recent debates surrounding the issue of demographics have certainly touched a raw nerve among Germans.
In an effort to turn the tide, Germany's neighbor to the east, the Czech Republic, has embarked on similar measures to increase fertility. With the population of the country projected to slim down to 8 million from 10 million over the next 40 years, the Czech parliament unanimously voted last year to double maternity leave payments for new mothers. Grasping the gravity of the situation, every political candidate and party in last year's elections had something to propose regarding "family issues," a Czech demographer told the New York Times
Slovenia, Italy, Poland, and Russia have followed suit and joined the ranks of countries attempting too woo reluctant individuals into parenthood by offering financial enticements -- either by increasing maternity payments, or offering a one-time payment. In one small town in Italy, couples are awarded 10,000 euros for each child they bear. And in a comical gesture, one region in Russia has held a contest for couples to conceive on Sept.12 (the birth date would then correspond with Russia's Independence Day, June 12), in which the "winners" are rewarded with an SUV. Since the contest's inception in 2004, the number of patriotic babies born in this region has steadily climbed upwards.
Many countries battling the birth dearth, demographers suggest, might want to follow France's lead. France has long had a love affair with le bebe, evident in its generous family policies. Baby bonuses increase sharply with each child, and the income tax system is weighed heavily in favor of people with large families. According to the national statistics agency in 2006, France had the highest fertility rates in the European Union -- a fact French officials routinely note as if speaking of a major sports triumph.
Although not quite at the holy grail replacement level, Europe's Nordic region also emerges as a leader in fertility rates at an average of 1.78. Nordic governments as far back as the 1970s have employed a range of policies designed to encourage couples to have children. In what is commonly referred to as the "Nordic Model," in Sweden, for instance, each parent is entitled to 18 months paid leave and mothers with children of pre-school age are granted the right to work flexible hours. In Norway, parents (including fathers) are entitled to 12 months off work, and guaranteed 80 percent, or 10 months, of their full income. As is the case with France, public daycare is heavily subsidized in Scandinavian nations.
Undoubtedly, governments are taking an active role in shaping Europe's future demographics, but a fundamental question remains: Can we expect a secular, prosperous, and democratic Europe to have fertility rates that are on par with the rest of the world? Reproduction is no longer the natural consequence of habit, tradition, or societal pressure as it is in many other parts of the world. Being at liberty to make their own choices, Europeans, and especially European women, will think hard about the question of parenting, regardless of whether it is sanctioned by the government.
