The Daily Telegraph

The real reason women aren’t having babies

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A reluctance among the young to reproduce is not just a British phenomenon

What do Russia, Italy, Japan and Britain all have in common, apart from not winning the World Cup? Worryingly low birth rates, that’s what. France has a higher score on and off the pitch, and since Les Bleus claimed the trophy last weekend, the country is set to enjoy the inevitable post-victory baby boom.

Ridiculous though it may sound, sporting success really does trigger mass conception. After FC Barcelona won the Uefa Champions League in May 2009, the euphoria led to a 16 per cent rise in births the following February. The children, now aged eight, are even known as the “Iniesta Generation”, in honour of Andrés Iniesta, the winning goalscorer.

When Iceland beat England 2-1 during Euro 2016, it was a historic moment for the 300,000-strong Nordic country. Exactly nine months later, its hospitals recorded the highest-ever number of epidurals administer­ed to women in labour.

Germany’s birth rate shot up almost 30 per cent nine months after it hosted the World Cup in 2006 – even though the national team only came third.

It’s a big responsibi­lity to lay at the door of national teams, but something must be done to halt falling fertility levels. France is ahead, with an average of 1.92 babies per woman, while the lowest fertility rates are in Italy, Spain and Portugal, where they range from 1.34 to 1.36.

Here in the UK, we are around the 1.78 mark, which might sound comparativ­ely good, but demographe­rs stress that the rate in Europe must exceed 2.1 in order for a population to replace itself without the need for inward migration.

Seen in that context, this week’s breathless tabloid headlines informing us that “over a quarter of births are to mothers who were born outside the UK” is little more than statistica­l cover for scaremonge­ring and “they come over here…” xenophobia.

But that’s not to say it isn’t of grave concern that fertility rates among women born here are steadily decreasing in every age group apart from the over-40s. Actually, “fertility” implies these women can’t have babies; the truth, in most cases, is that they are either choosing not to start a family for economic reasons, or can’t find a partner who wants to have a baby while they are young enough to get pregnant.

When I heard that Miley Cyrus, 25, had split from Liam Hemsworth, 28, because he wanted to start a family, I couldn’t help be outraged. Does she know how hen’s-teeth-rare it is for any man-child under 35 to actively want a baby these days?

As someone who had a baby at 42, I would hate to be considered as some sort of primigravi­da poster girl for delaying motherhood before (hurrah!) falling pregnant at will. To conceive my second child, I underwent many years of heartbreak and IVF. I don’t regret it. But I sure as hell don’t recommend it. Bonking the good old-fashioned way – in your late 20s and early 30s, after Sunderland AFC win on penalties – is a far more reliable, relaxing way of having a baby.

I’ve yet to meet a woman who wished she’d had children later; in retrospect, us geriatric mothers, as midwives so delicately call us, would have preferred to have started sooner. But we didn’t. And you know why?

For exactly the same reasons the next generation is putting off parenthood: economics. By which I mean a house to live in, a well-paid, secure job, decent and affordable childcare. I hung out for all of those and had my first baby at 36. Little did I know I would spend the next five years waiting for a follow-up.

Today’s gig economy may be exciting when you are starting out in your career; a decade on, it feels too precarious to start a family. In 1960, the average first-time buyer was 23 and paid a deposit of £595 – the equivalent of around £12,738 today.

In 2018, the average first-time buyer is now 30 and needs to have saved £20,600 to get a mortgage; in 48 per cent of cases, half of that money comes from the bank of mum and dad.

But a reluctance among the young to reproduce is not a purely British phenomenon. Earlier this year, it was reported that Russia’s birth rate had dropped to the lowest level in a decade. Putin’s government is to spend £6.6billion over three years encouragin­g (bribing) women with mortgage subsidies and cash payments to have election-year babies.

Meanwhile, in Italy – arguably the most family orientated place on the planet – its national statistics agency has calculated that the population is due to decrease by seven million over the next 50 years as birth rates fail to keep pace with death rates. It’s a dire situation, so the health ministry launched a campaign urging women to have babies sooner under the perfectly reasonable slogan: “Beauty has no age. But fertility does.”

Cue insane social media fury over “ageism” (also known as unpalatabl­e biological fact) and more reasoned calls for better crèches, salaries, benefits and gender equality; one in four Italian women loses her job within a year of giving birth.

Meanwhile in Japan, where the number of children has been in freefall for 37 consecutiv­e years, an astonishin­g 40 per cent of single people aged 18 to 34 are still virgins. Japanese men often describe having girlfriend­s as too much trouble, since women expect them to pay for everything and – wait for it – “engage emotionall­y”, so they prefer virtual and holographi­c girlfriend­s. Women dismiss men as unambitiou­s.

The result is a multimilli­on-pound loneliness industry, where companies offer “relationsh­ip-like” services such as cuddling, massages and intimate grooming like ear-cleaning. Yes, really.

You could view falling birth rate as the very definition of a First World Problem; Africa has an average of

4.7 births per woman, and a population boom that threatens the continent’s infrastruc­ture. But here in Britain, we surely need to reverse our declining birth rate, or at least address the causes. More affordable housing would be the best starting point. Up to a third of millennial­s face renting for their entire life, so the Government’s proposal to give renters in England a three-year minimum tenancy term is welcome, but doesn’t go quite far enough.

For now, we’ll just have to hope our young England squad fulfils its destiny and brings us the Southgate Generation.

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 ??  ?? Waiting game: young people hope to own a home before they start having children
Waiting game: young people hope to own a home before they start having children
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