The Four Cultural Shifts That Can Reverse Birth Decline
How Civilizations Can Reverse Demographic Collapse
Across the developed world, populations are shrinking and towns are thinning out. Japan contracts each year. Italy grows older. Parts of Spain and Greece feel abandoned by time. Governments answer with subsidies and policy tweaks, treating demographic collapse as an accounting problem. But this crisis is not primarily financial. Civilizations falter when they forget why the next generation matters.
More than a century ago, economists were already debating birth rates and Western civilization. In 1906, participants at the American Economic Association1 warned that “superior intellectual and economic power contributes, not to offspring, but to sterilized scholarship, barren selfishness, and social display.”
Even then, observers saw a pattern: as ambition rose, family size fell. The more social mobility expanded, the more children were treated as obstacles to advancement rather than anchors of continuity. They noted that earlier generations treated fatherhood and motherhood as sacred callings, quoting Psalm 127 and describing large families as marks of civic virtue. By contrast, modern life encouraged delay, restriction, and careful calculation. The family moved from being a public good to a private burden. Parenthood became one option among many.

This matters more than economists admit. Fertility decline is not evenly distributed by class or income. One researcher, Samuel Preston2, notes that postwar fertility change extended across all strata. Incentives alone cannot explain that. When entire societies shrink family size together, the shift is cultural before it is financial.
Now step back further.
Confucian thinkers treated filial piety as the spine of society. A son who failed to continue the ancestral line failed his parents and disrupted moral order. Aristotle saw the household as prior to the state. The polis grew out of families. Ibn Khaldun argued that social cohesion, asabiyyah, began in kinship bonds. Strong families produced strong tribes. Strong tribes built states. When cohesion thinned, dynasties fell. None of them spoke about tax credits.
They understood something we have forgotten. Birth is not only biological but also civilizational. Every child is a vote of confidence in the future. When birth rates collapse, it not only signals economic anxiety but also doubt in the future.
The 1906 discussion already warned against relying on automatic economic incentives to fix the problem. Civilization itself is artificial, shaped by conscious social choices. Family limitation was not simply an economic outcome; it was cultural regulation. If culture can restrict births, culture can encourage them.
So, what would that look like?
First, restore honor to parenthood. When societies celebrate family as a form of excellence, fertility rates will rise. Hungary offers a clear case. Beginning in 2010, it did not simply introduce tax credits. It reframed family as a national mission. The constitution explicitly defined marriage and emphasized the protection of families. Mothers of four children received lifetime income tax exemption. Public messaging celebrated large families as patriotic contributors to the nation’s survival. The total fertility rate rose from around 1.23 in 2011 to roughly 1.59 by 2021 before recent fluctuations. It did not reach replacement level, but it showed that when the state links motherhood and fatherhood to civic honor, behavior shifts. The message was not having children if you can afford it. It was “your children are Hungary’s future.”
Israel provides an even stronger example. Fertility among Jewish Israelis in 2025 remained around 2.89 children per woman, far above most developed nations. This is not limited to ultra-Orthodox communities. Even secular Jewish women average near replacement or above. Why? Family carries status. Military service, communal life, and national narrative all reinforce the idea that raising children is participation in a larger historical project. Children are woven into identity. Career success exists, but it does not crowd out parenthood as the highest marker of adult legitimacy.
Second, reducing the cultural shame around large families matters more than most admit. In France, which has one of the highest fertility rates in Western Europe, family allowances scale with additional children and large families are visible and normalized. Three children do not feel extreme. French public culture does not treat the third child as excess. Contrast that with urban centers in Southern Europe where one child is becoming the default and two feels ambitious. When the third child is framed as irresponsible or indulgent, fertility compresses quickly.
In the United States, Latter-day Saint communities illustrate this point even more clearly. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints consistently produces higher fertility rates than the national average. This is not because members are wealthier. It is because the culture attaches prestige to family formation. Large families are admired. Young marriage is not stigmatized. When I lived in Utah, it was normal to see children marrying at 19 to 22 years of age. It was also normal to see families with more than four children. Parenthood is described in sacred, not secondary, terms. The surrounding American culture may drift toward delay and childlessness, but within that subculture the norms push in the opposite direction. Culture bends numbers.
Third, rebuilding intergenerational bonds lowers the perceived cost of children. In Southern Europe historically, extended kin networks absorbed childcare and financial risk. Even today, Southern Italy and parts of Spain show higher rates of grandparents providing daily childcare than Northern Europe. Where grandparents are present and involved, the burden does not fall entirely on two isolated adults. In Singapore, policymakers recognized this and introduced housing policies that incentivize living near parents. Studies there show that proximity to grandparents correlates with higher likelihood of having a second child. When grandparents are engaged, children feel less like private liabilities and more like shared projects.
Confucian societies long treated care for elders and continuation of lineage as inseparable. South Korea’s fertility collapse, now below 0.8, coincided with rapid urbanization and the breakdown of traditional extended family structures. Young couples face housing costs alone. Elderly parents often live separately. The kin-based safety net thinned. The result is not only economic stress but relational isolation. When the family shrinks to a fragile nuclear unit, every child magnifies risk.
Fourth, challenging radical individualism is essential. Samuel Preston noted that postwar economic growth expanded consumption possibilities and personal autonomy. The opportunity cost of time rose. Marriage and children began to feel restrictive compared to professional mobility and lifestyle flexibility. When identity becomes career-centered, fertility becomes negotiable.
Yet there are counterexamples. In Scandinavian countries, particularly Sweden, policy deliberately aimed to reduce the tradeoff between career and children. Generous parental leave for both mothers and fathers, subsidized childcare, and cultural emphasis on involved fatherhood helped push fertility near 2.0 in the late 2000s before it declined again. The success was partial and fragile, but it showed that when societies refuse to frame career and parenthood as mutually exclusive identities, fertility responds.
The deeper success stories share one pattern. They do not treat children as consumer choices. They embed family inside national, religious, or communal narratives. Israel ties children to covenant and survival. Hungary ties them to nationhood. Latter-day Saints tie them to theology. France normalizes them socially. Singapore leverages kin proximity.
Where societies define adulthood primarily as self-realization through consumption and mobility, fertility falls. Where adulthood includes stewardship, continuity, and shared obligation, fertility stabilizes or rises.
Policy can support culture. It cannot replace it. The countries and communities that resist demographic collapse are not those with the most spreadsheets. They are the ones that still believe raising children is an achievement, not a detour.
None of this denies economics. Housing costs matter. Job security matters. But culture frames how those factors are interpreted. In agrarian societies, children were economic assets. In industrial societies, they became economic costs. Yet in traditional civilizations, they remained moral assets.
Here is the uncomfortable truth. A civilization that views children as burdens will eventually run out of them. A civilization that sees children as continuity will endure hardship to raise them.
Japan and Italy are not poor nor war-torn. They are stable, educated, technologically advanced. Yet they shrink. That tells us the problem is not survival. It is will.
Birth rates matter because they measure confidence. They reveal whether a society believes tomorrow is worth inheriting. Economists can adjust policy. Legislators can subsidize diapers. But unless a society re-sacralizes family, incentives will remain patches on a deeper fracture.
Tradition once guarded what policy now tries to fix. The real question is not how to raise fertility by 0.3 points; it is whether modern civilization still believes in its own future.
Fetter, Frank A., William B. Bailey, Henry C. Potter, Emily Balch, I. M. Rubinow, C. W. A. Veditz, and Walter E. Willcox. “Western Civilization and Birth-Rate — Discussion.” Publications of the American Economic Association 8, no. 1 (1907): 90–112.
Preston, Samuel H. “Changing Values and Falling Birth Rates.” Population and Development Review 12 (1986): 176–95. https://doi.org/10.2307/2807901.
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South Korea too I believe has a shrinking population and is facing a demographic emergency.