Last year, it was revealed that Australia’s fertility rate had sunk to 1.48 children per woman, the lowest figure in over one hundred years. In 2014, the figure had been 1.8. The rate of decline is noteworthy.

The fertility rate needs to be slightly above 2 for the size of the population to remain steady, assuming no net migration.

But here’s the thing: fertility is dropping like a stone across most of the globe.  According to the International Monetary Fund, ‘global fertility rates have experienced a dramatic decline from 5 children per woman in 1950 to 2.24 in 2025, with projections indicating the rate will fall below the replacement level of 2.1 around 2050’.

It’s worth going through some of the figures to understand the existential crisis that many countries are facing, certainly in terms of reproducing the local population.

In the US, the figure is 1.62; in the UK, it’s 1.41; in Ireland, it’s 1.60; and in Canada, it’s very low at 1.33. Japan is also low at 1.23, along with Italy (1.20) and Spain (1.21). Korea is a standout case at 0.75.

Even in countries that have implemented strongly pro-natal policies, the fertility rates are still low. Hungary is a clear example, with a rate of only 1.5 children per woman. In China, the fertility rate is a tad above 1, notwithstanding recent efforts by the government to encourage women to have more children.

The IMF further notes that ‘during 2000 to 2025, fertility rates declined in every UN region of the world and in every World Bank country income group. This will most likely continue over the next 25 years, signalling future global depopulation. The exceptions to this trend are Africa and a number of low-income countries on other continents where fertility rates are still 4 or higher…. Africa’s share of global population is likely to increase from 19 per cent in 2025 to 26 per cent in 2050.’

The reasons for the decline in fertility in developed countries are prosaic, economic and cultural. They include access to contraception and family planning as well as the rising education levels of women and their higher rates of workforce participation.  Delayed marriage also plays a role.

Urbanisation is a significant variable determining fertility. The mismatch of partners’ perceptions of sharing the load of childcare responsibilities is also seen by some contributors as important.

Claudia Goldin, economics professor at Harvard University and Nobel Prize winner, has contributed to the debate about fertility. (She is best known for her rejection of discrimination as a reason for the gender pay gap.) She makes the interesting point that there have been some clear changes since the Global Financial Crisis of 2007-2009.

She talks about the rise of ‘intensive parenting’ where mothers and fathers become highly involved in the development of their children. (Yes, Speccie readers, my childhood experience mainly consisted of being sent outside by my parents to play; this was about as involved as it got. Not that I’m complaining.)

Combined with the higher costs of child rearing – rising house prices are significant here – and the persistent delay of educated women to partner up, it’s not surprising that fertility has continued to drop.

There is, of course, a difference between achieving the family you might want in different circumstances and the one you have.  It’s hard to escape the conclusion that a high proportion of one-child families, for instance, is the result of circumstance rather than free choice.

Two key questions arise from the trend of falling fertility. First, does it matter that so many countries are experiencing below replacement levels of fertility? Secondly, can governments do anything to reverse falling fertility at reasonable cost?

There is clearly a subjective element to answering the first question. A falling population self-evidently does have consequences, with the age structure being increasingly skewed to older and often dependent folk.  This affects both the vibrancy of the economy and the fiscal wherewithal to care for ageing citizens.

The governments of many advanced countries have opted to lift migrant intakes to offset the decline in fertility. It’s not called ‘replacement migration’ for nothing. The argument is that any fall in the size of the local population can be offset by bringing in more migrants. As long as the average age of migrants is below the existing population, there can be some small counterbalance to the rate of ageing.

While the strategy may be sound on paper, several problems emerge. By letting in more migrants, including via demand-driven temporary visa programs, some of the factors that are driving lower fertility will be made worse. Pressure on the housing market, including higher prices, more congestion, excess demand for public services – these are reasons why people have one fewer child or none at all.

Letting in more migrants because fertility is falling may actually lead to further falls in fertility. Go figure. The Australian data bear out this proposition, with surging rates of migration clearly associated with steep falls in fertility.

Helen Dale and Lorenzo Warby also make the important point that the implicit assumption in ‘replacement migration’ is that migrants are perfect substitutes for locals. It’s the ‘bums on seat’ scenario.

But as we all know, bringing in large cohorts of migrants from non-English speaking countries with different cultures, religions and value systems introduces a whole new set of problems. Governments have found it very difficult to resolve these challenges.

So, what is the evidence on government measures to lift the fertility rate? Measures include cash handouts, funded parental leave, subsidised childcare and lower rates of tax for large families.

Peter Costello, the then federal treasurer, implemented the baby bonus, which progressives never liked. But the evidence on the impact – see the e61 Institute May 2025 Cash for Kids study – indicates that the measure was effective for the period it was in operation. Indeed, the fertility rate reached 2.02 in 2008, close to the replacement rate. Many families, it would seem, were motivated to have that third child by dint of the bonus.

Having said this, the bulk of the evidence on pro-natal policies is that they only work at the margin and only for the time during which they are implemented. They are also relatively expensive.

China is desperate for their women to have more children having ditched their one-child policy in 2016. But in a remarkable act of defiance, these women don’t seem to be taking much notice.

In the past, it was only war, famine, a pandemic or a major economic dislocation that led to lower fertility rates. These days, lower fertility seems part and parcel of a modern society and economy, even though the longer-term consequences are highly destructive.