South Korea’s 0.7% birth rate: The urgent plan to stop demographic collapse

South Korea: 0.7% birth rate and a race against time

Can a country vanish without war, famine, or natural disaster? South Korea is testing the answer. Its birth rate has plummeted to 0.7%, and in Seoul, where half the population lives, the figure is just 0.5% and falling. If this trend continues, in fifty years the country will consist of adults and elderly people, bringing economic collapse. The government has decided not to wait idly.

Why is South Korea’s birth rate 0.7%?

The problem has geography. Half of South Koreans live in the Seoul metropolitan area, a city designed for competition, not child-rearing. Housing costs, endless work hours, and the pressure to prove merit all push in the same direction: career first, children if possible. When the capital absorbs half the demographic, its 0.5% rate drags down the national average, regardless of how the rest of the country fares. It is a pattern common to the developed world, only here with less margin and worse numbers.

The experiment of rats that went extinct in paradise

Analysts cite the well-known Experiment 25, in which a colony of rats with ample food and space reached a saturation point where individuals stopped reproducing and the population went extinct. The uncomfortable reading is that beyond a certain urban size, society becomes hedonistic, work turns into fierce competition, and reproduction drops. On the opposite side, calm, low-competition jobs—one that does not penalize parental leave—encourage having children. Translating cage behavior to an entire society is debatable, but the data direction leaves no one at ease.

150-year mortgages and twelve-hour days

Those who have lived in Seoul describe it plainly: an engineer with a decent salary takes 150 years to pay off an apartment, and the day is split between twelve hours of work, two of commuting, two of meals, and eight of sleep. With that schedule, family planning is impossible. Some point, without certainty, that protection for pregnant women and maternity and paternity leave do not reach the level existing in Spain, where at least attempts have been made to shorten working hours. Having children only to see them when they go to sleep is not worth it, and accounting does not measure that.

Can birth rates be fixed by cutting taxes and giving away housing?

Proposals here are flying. Some have suggested lowering the tax burden for native residents with three or more children from 52% to 5.2%, and building public housing at the cost equivalent to the 1960s: 130-square-meter apartments, four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a terrace for the equivalent of 1.5 million old pesetas, including services. In the same vein, general tax cuts with deductions per child, which, according to one participant, were defended by Vox. The counterargument comes from within: it is argued that most of these cuts benefited high incomes, with figures that the same participant admits giving “just to say,” without recalling them exactly—a 10% rate for those earning over 70,000 euros versus 2% in lower brackets—and that the measure alone does not move the needle.

The factor not in the accounts: culture and partnership

A second argumentative block holds that money explains half the problem. The shift in the productive model was accompanied by a sarracena shift: a different idea of life’s meaning, family, and motherhood, and a loss of community reference points that previously acted as a support network. The fragility of couples is also pointed out: if the average relationship lasts less, the biological window narrows, and those who could have three children end up with one. Cultural, religious, and sociological explanations intersect there, and none close the equation.

The Japanese town raising birth rates by attracting neighbors

Japan appears as a laboratory. A municipality with free daycare, subsidized rentals, and job offers has seen births rise. The catch: much of the effect is internal migration, young people moving from other areas who might have had children anyway. Supporters respond that if they move, it is because that environment is less hostile to raising children. The experiment measures something, but it is unclear what.

A circulating comparison: North Korea’s 1.81 children per woman

A comparison so simple as it is uncomfortable circulates: North Korea, with free housing, records 1.81 children per woman; South Korea, with a housing bubble, remains at 0.81. The gap is real; the framework is not. Another participant noted that in the North, the figure remains below the replacement rate and that the lack of freedoms is hard to sell as a demographic model. Still, the data serves the usual purpose: housing does not explain everything, but when it is unaffordable, it ceases to be a minor detail.

South Korea’s measures remain: planning, affordable housing, and compatible schedules. If they work, in fifty years someone will tell the story. If not, there will be no one left to write the balance sheet.