We are a shrinking nation, born to die young

LAST month the South African Institute of Race Relations (SAIRR) released a report – Born Free But Still In Chains – with rather fascinating, if scary statistics.

To mention a few: half of South Africa’s population is made up of “born frees” – i.e. people born after 1990.

Born frees account for 49% of support for the Economic Freedom Fighters; against 30% of African National Congress support and 14% of Democratic Alliance support.

The spread of political loyalties is interesting for two reasons.

First, it suggests that we are already seeing the emergence of a generation of South Africans who are not beholden to the notion that the ANC freed South Africa and therefore deserves unconditional support.

While this should be a cause for concern for the ruling party, my view is, as always, that such a phenomenon, if true, would be good for the country in general.

It would convey that no political party can survive only on the strength of its claimed history.

Secondly, if true, the statistic appears to give the lie to the proposition that “born frees” are colour-blind. It seems to suggest that “race” is still very much a factor in deciding what one’s political alignment should be.

Therefore there has to be something still, in our body-politic, on which the consciousness of otherness feeds.

The SAIRR report states: “If we take African born frees of working age, for each one who has a job, 1.29 are jobless on the official definition, and 2.38 jobless on the expanded definition.

Among coloured born frees, the ratio is more or less one-to-one on the strict definition and 1.23 to one on the expanded definition.

Among Indian/Asian and white born frees it is the other way round: there are more people with jobs than without. Unemployment therefore appears to be the single characteristic that African born frees have most in common.

The same applies to coloured born frees. Unemployment may also be the single most important characteristic setting African and coloured born frees apart from whites and Indians/Asians.”

All things being equal, the fact that 50% of South Africa’s population consists of people who were born after 1990 is good news, especially viewed against the fear that HIV/Aids might decimate us.

It conveys that half the population is younger than 26 years and that, therefore, we are not an aging society. Therefore we have the hope that we are not a dying nation.

This hope is however dampened by another statistic: the report indicates that only 40% of boys, and 49% of girls born this year, can expect to survive to their 65th birthday.

Put bluntly, 60% of the boys born in 2015, and 51% of their female counterparts, will likely die before they reach age 65.

Statistical modelling, which allows us to make such predictions, is based on any number of assumptions which may or not come to pass.

So, what we should really be saying is something like this: holding all things constant, 60% of the boys and 51% of the girls born in 2015 are likely to die before they turn 65.

The concept of “holding things constant” gives hope in the sense that, if these statistics worry those who make decisions about our lives, we might expect them to try and arrest the spiral. If their intervention removes the factors which might yield this fearful consequence, then the chances of the prognosis coming to pass might be mediated.

But the concept of “holding things constant” does not necessarily give hope: things might deteriorate and increase the number of those who will likely not live till the age of 65 or, which comes down to the same thing, reduce the number of those who might live till age 65.

We have to ask ourselves: if the statistical modelling yielding the prediction was done correctly, and what it says is reliable, do we have a basis for supposing that the prediction can be limited only to children born in 2015?

I would say we don’t.

If we hold things constant for 65 years, that takes us up to 2080.

To hold all things constant in that timeframe is also to hold constant the factors which have produced the reality that so many children born this year will likely not reach age 65.

The consequence is that each year between now and then, we run the risk that we shall give birth, if ever, to children 55.5% of whom are unlikely to reach age 65.

When it is the turn of those children to give birth, holding everything constant means that 55.5% of their children will also likely not live up to age 65.

If you were born in 1989, and you lived till 2080, you’ll be 91 years of age. It stands to reason that in 2080, just about all of the 27 million South Africans who were born before 1990 will have died. In their place would have been people, most of whom, won’t make 65.

If that should come to pass, we would not be an aging nation: we would be an ever-shrinking nation until, God forbid, we are completely extinct. If the statistics are anything to go by, we should be worried stiff about the future of this nation.