The Republic of Korea is a country of extreme ambivalence.
Through the eyes of many outsiders, this may look like a rich and attractive country. The nation's per capita income has long since surpassed $30,000, and its culture ― to include music, films, dramas and, more recently, food ― draws global fans.
However, for too many of its citizens it is a hell. One cannot explain the world's highest suicide rate and lowest birthrate here otherwise.
A report last week showed the continuation of these trends. In the second quarter, newborns numbered 56,087, down 6.8 percent from a year ago. The fertility rate dropped to 0.7, far less than half the OECD average of 1.59. A foreign expert was recently reported as saying Korea will be the first country to face demographic extinction.
Until recently, Koreans thought young women had gone on a “baby strike.” Now, men seem to have joined in as well. In a survey, one-third of young people did not feel positively about marriage. Half of the respondents said they would not have children after marriage. Is this their strike on “national sustainability?"
The government, of course, is aware of the demographic crisis. The Yoon Suk Yeol administration allocated 17.59 trillion won ($13.35 billion) to bolster the birthrate in next year's budget. It marked an increase of 25.3 percent from this year, almost 10 times higher than the overall spending growth of 2.8 percent. Still, few, if any, experts expect this to turn things around. Some expect the fertility rate to drop below 0.70 next year.
These experts have sufficient reasons to remain pessimistic. Korea has poured 280 trillion won into birthrate-boosting programs over the past 16 years to no avail. Will adding another 18 trillion won help? Hardly. True, the government's policies have evolved ― from the primitive, like cash handouts for new parents, to more sophisticated, such as better day care systems and housing subsidies. However, policies must be bolder and more comprehensive in order to influence social structures and public consciousness.
Korea must narrow the gap between its two contrasting images to save the country from demographic extinction. Most social problems here stem from rapidly widening economic polarization and cutthroat competition to belong to the upper ranks. These may be familiar to all capitalistic societies. However, the difference must not be between heaven and hell but between more and less comforts with most necessities guaranteed. Korea's reality matches the former. So, increasingly underprivileged young people regard marriage and childbirth as other people's problems.
The nation must start by changing its patriarchal family system. Women won't bear a child if they must do most of the housework and childrearing alone. Maternity leave also disrupts careers and widens the existing salary gap with male colleagues. Prejudice against out-of-wedlock mothers and gay parents must change too.
More fundamentally, Korea must put people's happiness before economic growth. The government should prioritize citizens' safety and wellness instead of seeing them as dollar signs ― as businesses do. The Itaewon crowd disaster last year and the World Scout Jamboree fiasco last month would not have happened had Korea placed people above all else.
However, this government will likely aggravate things. Most worrying is its rich-get-richer, poor-get-poorer economic policies. Economically disadvantaged youngsters don't want to hand over their plight to their children. Yoon's disregard for feminism, shown by his insistence on doing away with the Ministry of Gender Equality and Family, also will not help.
Changing a government, let alone a society, takes time. Still, they must become far more drastic and imaginative, learning from other nations' successes. Some advanced countries, for instance, provide homes for young couples with heavy grants and write off loans entirely if they bear two children, extend children's allowances to high school and give 100 percent wages for those on maternity leave.
Time is running out to make a difference.
“In this way, we'll all die soon,” said the oldest surviving character in Netflix's global box office hit, “Squid Game.”
Yoon and his aides must listen.