“Suddenly, I thought I heard a slight movement in the slops pail
behind me,” Miss Xinran remembers. “To my absolute horror, I saw a tiny
foot poking out of the pail. The midwife must have dropped that tiny
baby alive into the slops pail! I nearly threw myself at it, but the two
policemen [who had accompanied me] held my shoulders in a firm grip.
‘Don’t move, you can’t save it, it’s too late.’
“‘But that’s...murder...and you’re the police!’ The little foot was
still now. The policemen held on to me for a few more minutes. ‘Doing a
baby girl is not a big thing around here,’ [an] older woman said
comfortingly. ‘That’s a living child,’ I said in a shaking voice,
pointing at the slops pail. ‘It’s not a child,’ she corrected me. ‘It’s a
girl baby, and we can’t keep it. Around these parts, you can’t get by
without a son. Girl babies don’t count.’”
In January 2010 the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences (CASS) showed
what can happen to a country when girl babies don’t count. Within ten
years, the academy said, one in five young men would be unable to find a
bride because of the dearth of young women—a figure unprecedented in a
country at peace.
The number is based on the sexual discrepancy among people aged 19
and below. According to CASS, China in 2020 will have 30m-40m more men
of this age than young women. For comparison, there are 23m boys below
the age of 20 in Germany, France and Britain combined and around 40m
American boys and young men. So within ten years, China faces the
prospect of having the equivalent of the whole young male population of
America, or almost twice that of Europe’s three largest countries, with
little prospect of marriage, untethered to a home of their own and
without the stake in society that marriage and children provide.
Gendercide—to borrow the title of a 1985 book by Mary Anne Warren—is
often seen as an unintended consequence of China’s one-child policy, or
as a product of poverty or ignorance. But that cannot be the whole
story. The surplus of bachelors—called in China guanggun, or
“bare branches”— seems to have accelerated between 1990 and 2005, in
ways not obviously linked to the one-child policy, which was introduced
in 1979. And, as is becoming clear, the war against baby girls is not
confined to China.
Parts of India have sex ratios as skewed as anything in its northern
neighbour. Other East Asian countries—South Korea, Singapore and
Taiwan—have peculiarly high numbers of male births. So, since the
collapse of the Soviet Union, have former communist countries in the
Caucasus and the western Balkans. Even subsets of America’s population
are following suit, though not the population as a whole.
The real cause, argues Nick Eberstadt, a demographer at the American
Enterprise Institute, a think-tank in Washington, DC, is not any
country’s particular policy but “the fateful collision between
overweening son preference, the use of rapidly spreading prenatal
sex-determination technology and declining fertility.” These are global
trends. And the selective destruction of baby girls is global, too.
Boys are slightly more likely to die in infancy than girls. To
compensate, more boys are born than girls so there will be equal numbers
of young men and women at puberty. In all societies that record births,
between 103 and 106 boys are normally born for every 100 girls. The
ratio has been so stable over time that it appears to be the natural
order of things.
That order has changed fundamentally in the past 25 years. In China
the sex ratio for the generation born between 1985 and 1989 was 108,
already just outside the natural range. For the generation born in
2000-04, it was 124 (ie, 124 boys were born in those years for every 100
girls). According to CASS the ratio today is 123 boys per 100 girls.
These rates are biologically impossible without human intervention.
The national averages hide astonishing figures at the provincial
level. According to an analysis of Chinese household data carried out in
late 2005 and reported in the British Medical Journal*,
only one region, Tibet, has a sex ratio within the bounds of nature.
Fourteen provinces—mostly in the east and south—have sex ratios at birth
of 120 and above, and three have unprecedented levels of more than 130.
As CASS says, “the gender imbalance has been growing wider year after
year.”
The BMJ study also casts light on one of the puzzles about China’s
sexual imbalance. How far has it been exaggerated by the presumed
practice of not reporting the birth of baby daughters in the hope of
getting another shot at bearing a son? Not much, the authors think. If
this explanation were correct, you would expect to find sex ratios
falling precipitously as girls who had been hidden at birth start
entering the official registers on attending school or the doctor. In
fact, there is no such fall. The sex ratio of 15-year-olds in 2005 was
not far from the sex ratio at birth in 1990. The implication is that
sex-selective abortion, not under-registration of girls, accounts for
the excess of boys.
View Article at the Economist.
Recent Comments