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Spectator
04-07-2025
- Business
- Spectator
Why the baby bust matters
Birth rates are tumbling across the world. This isn't just a tragedy for the growing number of women who have fewer children than they want; below-replacement fertility rates mean that each generation will be smaller than the one before. This could lead to a permanent spiral of decline where the old always outnumber the young. But can anything be done about it? A report published last month by the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) acknowledges the problem, but its analysis is rather confused. The authors complain that economic barriers prevent women from having 'reproductive agency' while simultaneously arguing that governments trying to reduce these barriers are, in some cases, 'coercive'. After decades of international 'family planning' evangelism, perhaps UNFPA officials fear their efforts have been rather too successful. Matthew Parris highlighted the report's inconsistencies in The Spectator, pointing out that 'better family leave and fertility care' are very obviously not the reasons that African women have nearly three times as many children as their Swedish counterparts. But Parris also reflected some commonly-held misconceptions about falling birth rates, namely that population decline is not such a bad thing, and that nothing can be done about it anyway. These misconceptions need to be addressed if we are to have any chance of solving this existential problem. Many people struggle to understand the scale of the challenge posed by the global baby bust because to do so is both counter-cultural and counter-intuitive. It is counter-cultural because, since the 1960s, predictions of over-population and scarcity have dominated the discussion. It takes considerable mental reprogramming (and a degree of humility) to see that that falling population might be a greater threat than a growing one. Grasping the consequences of low fertility is counter-intuitive because the human brain struggles to comprehend the magnitude of compounding growth effects. Mortgages are a classic example. If asked to guess how much interest is due in total on, let's say, a 30-year loan of £300,000 at a 4.5 per cent interest rate, most people vastly underestimate the true sum (over £400,000 if you were wondering). We see the same tendency to underestimate the effects of falling fertility. We know that Britain's total fertility rate (TFR) has fallen below the 'replacement' rate of 2.1 children per woman. But many people interpret this as a one-off population contraction, like the aftermath of a war or epidemic. In fact, below-replacement fertility rates mean that each generation will be smaller than the one before. Let's give a worked example. England and Wales's TFR is now 1.44 children per woman. This is 31 per cent lower than what is required for population stability, so each generation will be one third smaller than the one before. In practice, this means that 100 people in Britain today are likely to have just 44 grandchildren and 30 great grandchildren between them. So, without immigration, the population of Britain could fall by as much as 70 per cent in three generations. What's the problem, some might ask? We used to survive perfectly well on a fraction of our current global population. Of course that isn't true; in 1800, 80 per cent of the world lived in absolute poverty compared to just 8.6 per cent today. Population growth has made us richer, safer and healthier. But the absolute size of the population is not the most important factor. What matters, socially and economically, is the ratio of young to old. In our modern context of long life-expectancy, we need enough people of working age to support those who have retired. In the UK, pension age benefits cost the state more than £125 billion a year, a cost that is shouldered by working-age taxpayers. In the early 1960s, Britain had up to 4.5 people of working age to support each pensioner; but, thanks to falling birthrates, we now have a ratio of just three to one. By 2070, that number could fall to just two working people to support each retiree. This steady decline is a major reason why taxes are at record high, national debt has ballooned, and public services are chronically under-resourced. In these circumstances, the idea of returning to economic growth is just a pipe dream; it will be a miracle if we stave off economic collapse. In Britain, politicians have failed to grasp the enormity of the threat headed our way. Other nations have not been so complacent; South Korea, Hungary, France and others have all pursued 'pro-natal' agendas, using tax breaks and cash handouts to encourage people to have children. The British media often reports that such policies have failed, presumably because none of these countries have managed to achieve replacement birth rates. But this is fake news: multiple studies indicate that pro-natal strategies do increase fertility. Natalist policies in France have arguably resulted in the births of between five and ten million babies that might not otherwise have been born. The evidence shows that there are effective actions that can be taken to improve fertility rates. To deny or dismiss this is both wrong and dangerous; we can't afford to be defeatist when so much is at stake. Collapsing birth rates are the most serious threat humanity faces. By the end of this century it is thought just six countries in the world will have above replacement fertility rates. There are many complex reasons for this – economic, social and cultural – all of which should be explored. But I suspect the underlying problem is that modernity has broken the link between having children and personal economic security. We often romanticise the reasons why people choose to become parents, but the fecundity of our ancestors had nothing to do with 'feeling ready,' 'finding Mr Right' or owning a three-bed semi. Before industrialisation and social security, having children was not a luxury: it was essential for a family's material survival. Yet in our modern world of centralised economies and socialised welfare, individuals can live comfortably and be provided for in old age even if they have no children of their own. In fact, most of us will be financially better off if we don't have children, given that the costs of parenthood are privatised, while the economic benefits of those children – a lifetime of tax contributions – have been entirely socialised. The reproductive urge will remain, but desiring children is not enough. No one has a baby to fund the NHS. We must find a way to restore the personal economic rewards of having children. Answers on a postcard please.
Spectator
28-05-2025
- General
- Spectator
Why did the ancient Greeks have so many gods?
Writing in a lesser organ, Matthew Parris wondered whether most ancient Greeks 'really, sincerely, did believe in their bizarre pantheon of gods'. Belief in a single god was at that time limited to two peoples: Jews and Zoroastrians (and Egyptians once, briefly). To everyone else, perhaps the sheer variety of the world, the extraordinary generative power of nature and the impossibility of making secure predictions about anything suggested a multitude of powers at work. Since it was obvious that earth and sky combined to control nature – man's only resource – it was not unreasonable for the ancient Greeks to see those features as the first two gods and then, constructing them as a human couple (the family being such a central Greek concern), to assume they generated not only other gods but the whole physical world too. The farmer-poet Hesiod (c. 680 bc) named more than 300 such gods, from Zeus and the Olympian gods at the top to Night, Day, Sleep, Oceans, Mountains, Rivers, Winds, Hades and so on, all with different functions. Result: you name a feature of human life, there was probably a god for it, all the way down to gods of weeding, muck-spreading, reaping and mildew. But what did those gods require? Obviously, what humans required, that is, respect, in the shape of acknowledgement. That could consist of a prayer, an offering left on an altar, or (at the communal level) a hecatomb (100 oxen sacrifice). And what did humans hope for in return? Primarily, the means of life, especially 'the blessings of the gods visited on them, for ploughing and for harvest, each in its season, with unbroken regularity' (Isocrates). That was achieved as long as the rituals were properly carried out – the sole function of priests, male and female. But if, say, Athenians felt that the gods could help their political ambitions, that was something for the democratic assembly to discuss.
Times
15-05-2025
- Times
My holiday horizons have shrunk — but it's not the kids' fault
If you were to ask me to name my favourite newly discovered place on earth of the past half-decade, I could answer without a second's hesitation. It would be Casa Tino, a simple but spectacular fish restaurant with chairs and tables set right on top of the black volcanic sand of Playa Quemada, a half-forgotten fishing village on Lanzarote, that's very hard to find. Lanzarote is cooler than you might think if you go to the right places, but I don't. Matthew Parris went there a long time ago and looked down into a cave of blind albino crabs, watching shafts of celestial sunlight illuminate their path without their knowing, prompting him to ponder his own Messiah complex. I keep meaning to go and have
Yahoo
24-02-2025
- Yahoo
A road trip through Zimbabwe
When you buy through links on our articles, Future and its syndication partners may earn a commission. Zimbabwe's political troubles in recent decades have damaged its reputation – but don't let that stop you visiting this glorious African country, said Matthew Parris in The Times. I grew up there when it was still Rhodesia, so my love for it goes deep. But I have also been back since, most recently with British friends last year. We all found it "gentle, friendly and relaxed", and everywhere we went, people were glad to see tourists. There are "super" places to stay, and in terms of safety, its capital, Harare, is "light years ahead" of Cape Town or Nairobi. The Victoria Falls are amazing, and there are some great safari lodges – but don't limit yourself to these. Zimbabwe offers much else besides – so just "hire a car, get a map, and go". Years of economic difficulty have left Harare looking "knocked about" in parts, but its restaurants are good, its shops are "well stocked", and the jacaranda trees along its avenues still produce beautiful blossom in spring. We stayed at Amanzi Lodge, which has big thatched bungalows set in gardens "complete with tiny African squirrels and vervet monkeys". From there we drove to the "cool, green" Eastern Highlands, where we climbed Mount Nyangani (Zimbabwe's highest peak, at 8,500ft) and took a thrilling ride on the world's highest zip wire, the Sky Line, a 1,200-yard steel cable spanning the ravine in front of the spectacular Mutarazi Falls. The SkyDeck Mountain Retreat, nearby, has "glamorous, ultramodern" rooms, but we chose a cheaper option – one of the "sweet" little cottages, lit by oil lamps, in its grounds. In Bulawayo, Zimbabwe's "charming" second city, we stayed at the Bulawayo Club, an "elegant" institution with Edwardian billiards tables, portraits of "long-gone" settlers, and a single pith helmet hanging behind the bar. And in the Matobo National Park – "a tumble of rocky valleys and boulder-strewn peaks" an hour's drive from the city – we saw some of Africa's most "evocative" rock art: images of human figures and various animals that are "perhaps twice as old as Stonehenge".
