Korea’s birth crisis far from over

South Korea’s total fertility rate reached 0.82 in the first quarter of 2025. The first-quarter birth rate rose 7.4 percent year-on-year, the highest since records began in 1981. March saw the number of newborns rise year-on-year for the first time in a decade.

Last year, the fertility rate rebounded for the first time in nine years. With this recent momentum, some predict that the rate could exceed 0.8 this year. After years of gloomy headlines about record-low births, experts and institutions are cautiously optimistic for the first time in a long while. Marriages in the first quarter also increased by 8.4 percent to 58,704 cases, a figure that is closely tied to birth rates in a country where non-marital births remain rare. Some now speculate that Korea has hit rock bottom in fertility and may even reach the government’s target of a 1.0 fertility rate by 2030.

However, it is crucial not to lose sight of the bigger picture. Even if the government's target is met, Korea would still be at the bottom globally in terms of fertility. According to World Bank data for 2023, Korea was the only country with a total fertility rate below 1.0. Even Germany, which has long struggled with low birthrates, maintains a rate twice as high. Korea is not just last in global fertility rankings. It is overwhelmingly so.

To make matters worse, the prolonged low birthrate has eroded the population of people capable of having children. In simple terms, not only are there fewer children, but there are also fewer prospective mothers and fathers. As the number of reproductive-age adults declines, an increase in fertility rates may not translate into more births. In 2002, when the fertility rate was 1.18, 496,911 babies were born. However, in 2012, with a higher birth rate of 1.3, only 484,550 babies were born, due to a smaller base population of parents.

For now, the so-called "echo generation," children of the postwar baby boomers, still bolsters the pool of parents. But once they age out and the “low-birth kids” born after the late 1990s become the main childbearing generation, the decline in the reproductive population will become much more pronounced. In the 1980s, Korea saw about 800,000 births per year. By the 2000s, that number had been halved to around 400,000. If a cohort of 800,000 adults has just 0.6 children each, that results in 240,000 babies. However, even if a cohort of 400,000 adults has one child each, it yields only 200,000 babies.

Despite Korea’s severe birthrate crisis, population decline has not yet become visibly alarming thanks to rising life expectancy and a growing elderly population. But it is only a matter of time before the shrinking number of newborns overwhelms even those gains. According to Statistics Korea, even under the agency’s high-fertility projection scenario, the national population will fall to the 30-million range within 45 years.

Complacency is not an option. A fertility rate must rise to two or three children per woman to avoid a shrinking society. Politicians across the aisle have vowed to address low birth rates and aging populations in their campaign pledges. Yet the word “low birthrate” is disappearing from major policy discussions, suggesting the sense of urgency is fading. However, the crisis has not subsided. Its pace may have slowed, but its trajectory remains unchanged. Regardless of who takes leadership tomorrow, we must remember that we have merely bought a little more time to prepare for the demographic shock ahead.