Summary: Despite widespread fears about the future—from apocalyptic collapse to resource depletion—human history shows a consistent pattern of progress and resilience. Time and again, predictions of disaster have been proven wrong by innovation and adaptation. Though challenges remain, the data clearly show that global living standards are rising—and that fear often lags behind reality.

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Fear is one of the oldest and strongest human emotions. From the cradle to the grave, we are constantly afraid of something. For example, many of us fear the end of the world. For centuries, successive apocalypse dates, pointed out by self-proclaimed prophets, passed one by one—I’ve already lived through 30 such dates. Despite those predictions, doomsday fear is still widespread. In some surveys conducted in the West, more than 50 percent of respondents reported fearing the coming apocalypse.

In the 19th century, people commonly feared trains. Not only were they afraid of dying under the wheels of the speeding steel monster, but they were also afraid of the train ride itself. Scientists warned people that train travel was detrimental to one’s health; that one could develop nystagmus from staring at the flashing images outside the window and experience muscle pain from hours of relentless tension generated by traveling at unnaturally high speeds.

Folks also feared electricity. In 1889, for example, after several accidents occurred while men were repairing power line failures, almost all the power lines in New York City—which had been built with great difficulty—were dismantled.

We have also taken steps to abolish nuclear power based on the belief that it is a deadly threat. The 1986 Chernobyl disaster is often cited as irrefutable proof of that. Neither the fact that you can now safely take a tour of Chernobyl and have lunch in the former plant’s canteen, nor the scientific research showing that nuclear power is one of the safest sources of energy, is enough to convince the fearful to change their minds.

Some are still concerned that Earth is overpopulated and lacks sufficient resources for everyone. They heed the predictions of Thomas R. Malthus, an Anglican pastor who, in 1798, argued that unchecked population growth would lead to catastrophic food shortages. Malthus also wrote that the poor, the hungry, and the sick should not be helped, because if they survived and had more children, overpopulation and widespread famine would ensue.

At the same time, the public remains skeptical of the claims of the Danish economist Ester Boserup, who in 1965 claimed that we will never run out of food. In fact, she was right. We have been producing more food for centuries; we have newer and more efficient techniques of land cultivation and agricultural production, and the volume of production follows the demand for food.

Almost from the moment oil production began, we have been concerned that oil supplies would soon run out. Peak oil predictions have been made by American geologists in 1919, by geophysicist M. King Hubbert in 1956, by biologist Paul Ehrlich in 1968, and by environmentalist Donella Meadows in her famous book Limits to Growth in 1972, among others.

Nevertheless, in 2025, we’re producing more oil every year. In 2017, the United States once again became the world leader in oil production, even though oil production in the US was predicted to peak irreversibly as early as 1971.

Survey: Has global poverty increased or decreased over the past 20 years?

The greatest fear of all is the belief that the world is headed in the wrong direction and that the past was better than today. In a 2017 Ipsos international survey, 52 percent of respondents believed the level of poverty in the world had increased over the previous 20 years. Only 20 percent held the opposite, which is to say correct, view. In only one of the nearly 30 countries surveyed—China—did more people believe that the global situation was improving instead of worsening. Yet, no matter what indicators we use to measure the global standard of living, we can easily prove that humanity is living better and better.

Changes in living standards, 1997–2022

Everything is not perfect. After all, we have wars, terrorists, climate change, and so on. But when I ask any audience: “Who would like to magically move back to the world of a century ago, with no right to return to 2025?” there are no takers.

For more, see Wojciech Janicki’s book Fear/Less: Why Your Lifelong Fears Are Probably Groundless.

Summary: For decades, experts assumed that rising prosperity inevitably led to falling birth rates, fueling concerns about population collapse in wealthy societies. But new data show that this link is weakening or even reversing, with many high-income countries now seeing higher fertility than some middle-income nations. As research reveals that wealth and fertility can rise together, policymakers have an opportunity to rethink outdated assumptions about tradeoffs between prosperity and demographic decline.

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For years, it was treated as a demographic law: as countries grow wealthier, they have fewer children. Prosperity, it was believed, inevitably drove birth rates down. This assumption shaped countless forecasts about the future of the global population.

And in many wealthy countries, such as South Korea and Italy, very low fertility rates persist. But a growing body of research is challenging the idea that rising prosperity always suppresses fertility.

University of Pennsylvania economist Jesús Fernández-Villaverde recently observed that middle-income countries are now experiencing lower total fertility rates than many advanced economies ever have. His latest work shows that Thailand and Colombia each have fertility rates around 1.0 births per woman, which is even lower than rates in well-known low-fertility advanced economies such as Japan, Spain and Italy.

“My conjecture is that by 2060 or so, we might see rich economies as a group with higher [total fertility rates] than emerging economies,” Fernández-Villaverde predicts.

This changing relationship between prosperity and fertility is already apparent in Europe. For many years, wealthier European countries tended to have lower birth rates than poorer ones. That pattern weakened around 2017, and by 2021 it had flipped.

This change fits a broader historical pattern. Before the Industrial Revolution, wealthier families generally had more children. The idea that prosperity leads to smaller families is a modern development. Now, in many advanced economies, that trend is weakening or reversing. The way that prosperity influences fertility is changing yet again. Wealth and family size are no longer pulling in opposite directions.

This shift also calls into question long-standing assumptions about women’s income and fertility. For years, many economists thought that higher salaries discouraged women from having children by raising the opportunity cost of taking time off work. That no longer seems to hold in many countries.

In several high-income nations, rising female earnings are now associated with higher fertility. Studies in Italy and the Netherlands show that couples where both partners earn well are more likely to have children, while low-income couples are the least likely to do so. Similar findings have emerged from Sweden as well. In Norway, too, higher-earning women now tend to have more babies.

This trend is not limited to Europe. In the United States, richer families are also beginning to have more babies than poorer ones, reversing patterns observed in previous decades. A study of seven countries — including the United States, the United Kingdom, Germany and Australia — found that in every case, higher incomes for both men and women increased the chances of having a child.

This growing body of evidence challenges the assumption that prosperity causes people to have fewer children. 

Still, birth rates are falling across much of the world, with many countries now below replacement level. While this trend raises serious concerns, such as the risk of an aging and less innovative population and widening gaps in public pension solvency, it is heartening that it is not driven by prosperity itself. Wealth does not automatically lead to fewer children, and theories blaming consumerism or rising living standards no longer hold up.

Although the recent shift in the relationship between prosperity and fertility is welcome, it is not yet enough to raise fertility to the replacement rate of around 2.1 children per woman — a challenging threshold to reach.

But the growing number of policymakers around the world concerned about falling fertility can consider many simple, freedom-enhancing reforms that lower barriers to raising a family, including reforms to education, housing and childcare. Still, it’s important to challenge the common assumption that prosperity inevitably leads to lower birth rates: Wealth does not always mean fewer children.

This article was published at The Hill on 6/16/2025.

In 1900, the U.S. Census recorded a total population of 76.3 million, including 11 million farmers. Today, with a population nearing 340 million, the number of farmers has dropped to just 2.72 million.

At the turn of the century, each farmer fed 6.94 people. Today, that number has risen to 125. While the U.S. population grew by 346 percent, farmer productivity soared by 1,702 percent. Each one percent increase in population corresponded to a 4.92 percent increase in farmer productivity.

In 1900, life expectancy was just 47 years. Today, it’s around 77. Medicine and sanitation played a role, but the abundance of food made possible by farmers discovering and applying new knowledge was a foundational driver of that gain.

So, who’s going to tell Ehrlich and Thanos they had it backwards? More life discovers more knowledge, which leads to better tools and more abundant resources.

Find more of Gale’s work at his Substack, Gale Winds.

Listen to the podcast or read the full transcript here.

In many places, fertility rates are hitting record lows. Practically all rich countries and many developing countries are now below the replacement fertility rate. Some countries are already seeing their populations age and decline, and if this continues for long enough, the global population will begin to shrink.

Your piece discusses an aspect of this topic that I find really interesting. So, let’s walk through it. You begin with an anecdote about how, a little over a year ago, you were conducting an interview about the possible causes of fertility decline. Tell me what happened.

I write on this topic with some frequency, and I follow research on it very closely, so I often interview people who research fertility, economists, sociologists, demographers, and so on. And so I was interviewing somebody, a demographer, about a certain cause of fertility decline. At one point in the interview, she kind of stopped and wanted to clarify that the issue here is that people are having fewer kids than they want. She wanted to make it clear that she wasn’t saying we should raise the birth rate for any kind of national interest.

My piece pushes back on that way of thinking.

Why do you think people tend to characterize the falling birth rate issue this way?

I think there’s a sense that catastrophizing low fertility could justify taking really drastic and coercive steps. And I think that is a major and legitimate concern. Getting the state involved in getting people to have children or stop having children could be a legitimate threat to civil liberties.

People also sometimes acknowledge that falling fertility is a problem, but they redefine it. They’ll say something like, “There are going to be economic challenges because of low fertility, but the problem is with our economic system, so let’s just change the economic system.”

I am sympathetic to people who want to talk about economic reforms, especially if pension systems, for example, are unsustainable. But as you say, there is no reason you can’t discuss both of those things.

There are definitely ways that we can adapt our economic system to low fertility, but there are limitations to that approach. You get this sense that people think that the need for children is just a byproduct of capitalism, and if we just changed our economic system, then we wouldn’t need endless growth propped up by a high birth rate. Maybe we can tweak our pension system, or become less reliant on GDP growth, but it’s a fact of human existence that you need new people to take over as the rest of us get older.

Now, some demographers and economists push back on the idea that anything below replacement-level fertility is going to cause massive issues. Some think that we could have anything above 1.5 births per woman, and with immigration, technological advancement, and education, we’ll be fine. One demographer that I spoke to said that since we are becoming more productive per capita as time goes on, each generation has “broader shoulders,” to stand on. So, maybe we can do more or as much as we are currently doing with fewer people.

That said, you can’t have a society without kids. We don’t know exactly when the falling birth rate becomes a big problem or how long we have before it’s a big problem. Lots of room for disagreement there. But eventually, it becomes a problem.

Let’s talk about some of the reasons that people are choosing to have fewer children. You make a very good point that in the past, parents captured more of the fruits of their children’s labor, while today, most of us are raising kids who will spend most of their lives working for someone else.

Yeah, for a lot of human history, parents were employers who grew their own laborers. There were steep economic incentives to raise kids. It could be brutal on a personal level. If you couldn’t bear children, your husband might put you aside and find somebody else who can. Today, parents still do a lot of the work of raising children, but they’re raising kids who are going to work for somebody else.

Of course, there are still practical reasons to have children. Basically everywhere in the world, lots of elder care is done informally by family members, especially adult children. However, even still, that care is not reliable in a liberal society. This is how liberalism works: when you grow up, nobody can tell you what to do, including your parents. So, I think capitalism, labor markets, and liberal values in general have altered the relationship between parents and children in a way that fundamentally changes the economics of child-rearing.

I do think it is easy to oversell the importance of economic considerations and downplay the psychological or cultural factors. It’s notable that, to date, no amount of government spending anywhere in the world has successfully restored sub-replacement birth rates to replacement levels.

You spend a lot of your piece talking about another factor in people’s decisions about having children: the feeling that having children is good for your society’s future. Could you tell me a bit about that?

People often pitch parenthood as simply an experience that makes the parents feel good without acknowledging the important role parents play in society.

I think that undermines the case for parenthood. If we pretend that parenthood is just about you being happy, we rob parents of a source of satisfaction. Imagine if we tried to recruit people to the army by saying, “It doesn’t really matter how many people sign up. This is about you getting the experience of holding a gun and riding in a tank.” I really don’t think anybody would join. People are motivated to serve their communities. So why are we downplaying that? Why are we so scared of saying, “you should consider having kids because we need parents”?

How do you think that relates to this view that the world is overpopulated and having kids is essentially selfish? Do you think that kind of messaging might affect people’s decision-making?

Absolutely.

A couple of years ago, I signed up for this half-marathon hike and ended up hiking it with this woman who was a total stranger, and we were talking about fertility rates. You can’t go on a half-marathon hike with me without me talking about fertility; that’s pretty much inevitable.

So, we were chatting, and she, at one point, said that she felt like she was harming the planet by having kids, and since she had to take maternity leave, she was also slowing down work. She felt like she was doing a selfish thing and drawing resources away from the planet and from her workplace in order for her to have the experience of parenthood.

If that is how you view parenthood, it becomes a lot harder to justify the decision. And if you already have personal reservations like, “would I be a good mother?”, it could easily tip the scales toward not having children.

This topic is very tricky for those of us who are devoted to a free society. I really love the last paragraph of your piece. You say:

Those of us who want to reverse falling fertility while preserving the values of a liberal society have a tricky task ahead. We’ve got to hold two truths at once: that no one ought to be coerced into parenthood, and that we will all suffer if no one raises kids. That may seem like an impossible line to walk—and yet, we walk versions of it all the time. I don’t think there’s anyone in the world that would hesitate to admit that we need doctors. And yet, most of us agree no one should be coerced into medical school. In other words, acknowledging the necessity of parents while respecting individuals’ right not to become one is really just a matter of applying the same logic to parenting that we do to every other path in life.

Could you expound on that?

I think most people can agree that we don’t want people to be coerced into parenthood, but we can’t allow that concern to make us overlook the fact that we need parents. They provide an essential service in society. So we have to be willing to hold both of them at the same time. I think people just have this impulse that that’s not possible, but we do this all the time with other types of work.

If we go with the military example, most people think that national security is important, but most people also oppose conscription. They want a volunteer army. It’s the same with basically any line of work. We don’t like forcing people to do things, but that doesn’t stop us from acknowledging that society can’t function without doctors or teachers.

You’re basically just suggesting that people voluntarily give more social recognition to parents. And you write that all around you, you can see that parents, and mothers in particular, are desperate for recognition that the work they are undertaking is valuable for the world. Do you think that more social recognition could shift the culture toward higher birth rates?

I do. I’ve always thought that parenthood is really important, but I constantly felt like the culture was telling me otherwise. There is this assumption that you shouldn’t get married and have kids right after college, right? That you should do something with your life. But having kids is doing something. And there are lots of ways that we denigrate parenthood and treat it as a waste of somebody’s skills and talents.

If we thought more about the work of parenthood in the way that we think about other work, if we treated it like a really cool way of contributing to society, maybe people would be more motivated to go into that line of work.

If you look at the few populations in wealthy countries that do have high birth rates, religious communities, for example, those populations give people a lot of positive messaging about how raising children is a good thing for society.

I just remembered that the woman I went on that half marathon hike with, who seemed to believe she had done a selfish thing by having children, told me about a time she visited Jordan. She was so struck by what it was like to have a child there. In the UK, where I live, sometimes when you go into a coffee shop, people almost groan if they see you brought your kids. But in Jordan, she said that when she would walk into a coffee shop or a restaurant, it felt like she had gifted them this child. She felt an overwhelming sense that people were delighted that she had this child there, and she didn’t even live in Jordan. I think this kind of social recognition changes how you think about having children.

Another other thing to remember about social recognition is that it’s free. It doesn’t cost taxpayers a single dime, and there’s not really any downside to people just voluntarily giving this kind of recognition to the parents in their lives.

One of the reasons that people are hesitant to talk about birth rates is that, as you wrote in your piece, it can feel icky to have a strong opinion on such a personal decision. You don’t want to try to make everyone follow the same path and become a parent.

I think we need to use other types of work as a model for how we think about parenthood. There are a lot of roles that need to be filled in society, and just because you are not filling all of them doesn’t mean that you’re failing society. You can appreciate the existence of doctors and nurses without feeling bad that you are not a healthcare worker.

We usually end this podcast with an optimistic note. What trends, if any, make you feel optimistic about the future of birth rates?

I think that people are becoming more receptive to the idea that parenthood, motherhood, and caregiving are valuable and often overlooked. It feels like we’re on the cusp of being willing to admit that we need parents. Not in a catastrophizing way, but in a “hey, this is important” way. So, I think we’re moving in the right direction.