“BOTH HUSBAND and wife have the duty to practise family planning.” In China these words are a threat, enshrined in the constitution. Failure to abide by the ruling party’s notion of the correct family size can result in punishment, with a large fine or the loss of a job. Among the mainly Muslim ethnic minorities in the far-western region of Xinjiang, women who exceed their allotted quota of children have been subjected to forced sterilisation and sent to detention camps.
Some Chinese may be relieved, then, that the Communist Party will relax the rules. Previously, most couples had been kept to two children. On May 31st the Politburo announced that the limit would be raised to three. Theoretically, ethnic minorities living in the countryside are already allowed this many, but in Xinjiang officials sometimes torment those who have not exceeded the limit.
Allowing three children is a big change from the draconian measures of 1979-2016. Back then, the enforcement of a one-child policy led to widespread abuses: compulsory abortions, the confiscation of property and even the razing of people’s homes. In most of China such horrors have abated as the regulations have eased.
The aim of allowing three children is to encourage couples to have more of them. China’s fertility rate is among the world’s lowest. The share of the population aged 60 has been rising fast. In 2000 it was one-tenth. By the end of this decade it is expected to rise to one-quarter. Last year saw the fewest births since 1961, a time of Mao-made famine. But changing the policy will neither achieve the government’s desired result, nor end people’s suffering.
Persuading people to have more children is very hard, as governments in many countries have found. As societies get richer, couples have fewer children and lavish more time and money on each one. The main reason Chinese couples today do not want large broods is that they feel they cannot afford them.
In cities, housing and child care are costly. Getting a child into a good school or university often requires paying for cramming classes. The welfare net is flimsy, so young people fret about the burden of having to care for elderly parents. The party admits that these problems need tackling, but not that lifting restrictions on family size will probably do little to encourage more baby-making.
Many young Chinese people resist getting married, let alone having babies—the number of couples tying the knot each year has fallen by about 40% over the past seven years. Women want to work, and fear that their job prospects may be harmed should employers suspect that they may soon need time off in order to raise a family. The Politburo rightly says that employers should not discriminate against women, but officials often turn a blind eye to violations of employment law.
The move to a two-child policy had boosted average fertility only a little. It is unlikely the three-child one will be any more successful. But there are other reasons to scrap the two-child rule, and all limits on family size.
The policy inflicted huge suffering on the millions punished for failing to observe it. It achieved nothing useful—China’s population would have stopped growing anyway as a result of personal choice, as it has elsewhere in the world. The party is reluctant to admit that imposing limits on family size was wrong from the start. But that is a terrible reason for the state to seize a decision that properly belongs to couples themselves. Every other country grants its people the basic freedom over whether or not to have children. Why not China?
