1 Introduction

Many studies have comprehensively appraised various aspects of China’s recent demographic history and outlook (Basten and Jiang 2014, 2015; Cai 2012; among others). In short, China is grappling with a rapidly aging population, brought about in part by a transition to very low fertility coupled with negligible international migration and rapid improvements in longevity (Chen and Powell 2012). Clearly, the history—and future—of fertility in China is of central importance to this transition to an aged society (Guo 2012). However, the study of Chinese fertility is one beset with great controversy. In common with many countries, there is much debate on the primary causes of fertility decline in China. In particular, there is strong divergence among scholars on the relative role of birth control policies versus other factors such as economic and social development (e.g. Goodkind 2017; Wang et al. 2018).

However, in circumstances unusual for its stage of development, simply determining the actual fertility rates in China is also a perennial challenge (Basten et al. 2014).Given the difficulties in obtaining microdata regarding fertility, various studies, using various methods, have sought to determine the actual fertility rate in China and, unsurprisingly, coming to very different conclusions (e.g. Cai 2008; Zhao and Zhang 2010). For example, Lutz et al. (2007) reviewed 17 studies which sought to determine the national Total Fertility Rate (TFR) of China in 2000, and found no less than 32 different estimates ranging from 1.3 to 2.3.

The census has often been deployed as a means of determining fertility. Estimates derived from analysis of the census often appear to be at the lower end of the range of TFRs (Lutz et al. 2007). Of course, there has been tremendous debate concerning the validity of Chinese census data, not least regarding undercounts of children—and girls in particular (Goodkind 2004). On the other hand, other studies have suggested that under-counting in recent Chinese censuses may not, after all, be necessarily more severe in China than elsewhere (Zhang 2004; Zhao and Chen 2011). However, it has been suggested that in response to the perceived notion of undercounting, official statistics have been inflated (Zhao and Zhang 2010). Using the 2010 census data, Guo (2011) reconstructed fertility patterns for China from 1990 to 2010. These figures tracked closely the TFRs derived from the National Bureau of Statistics’ Annual Sample Surveys on Population Change. Indeed, the latter reported very low TFRs of 1.39–1.44 in the early 1990s—well below the officially claimed figure of 1.8 (Zhang and Zhao 2006). Even the striking downturn to a TFR of around 1.3 observed for 2010 itself mirrored the trend observed in the NBS data (Guo and Gu 2014).

On November 1st 2015, a 1% sample census was conducted in China. This sample survey—often referred to as the ‘mini-census’—was carried out by China’s National Statistics Bureau midway between the 2000 and 2010 censuses in order to monitor the ongoing population situation. According to the General Office of the State Council, ‘Data collected in the new sample census will help find out changes in the number, quality, structure, layout and housing conditions of the country’s population since the country conducted its last national census in 2010’ (** overall trends in TFR are likely affected by develo** trends in the age of marriage. Age at first marriage is noticeably lower in China than in its East Asian neighbours (UNPD 2017). However, in recent years the age at marriage has been increasing sharply (Wei et al. 2013; Yu and ** the actual fertility rate of the married women in 2015 unchanged while adapting number of the unmarried in denominator according to the married ratio in 2010, to get an adjusted indicator of TFR for comparison. Simply put, that is to reduce the denominator of fertility rate accordingly, and see how the fertility rate may change.

According to Table 4, if the unmarried ratio of women of childbearing age in 2015 remains the same with the 2010 level (calculated by using the analysis sample), the TFR published in 2015 would be adjusted from the real 1.054 to 1.152, increasing by 9.3%. Similarly, TFR of the first child in 2015 (0.562) can be increased by 11.5% to 0.627. Therefore, the very low TFR in 2015 is not only due to the fertility rate of married women and the delay of average fertility rate, the growth of the proportion of unmarried women is also an important factor.

Table 4 Calculation of influence on national TFR caused by the unmarried ratio of childbearing women
Full size table

The method of age-progressive fertility, proposed by Ma et al. (1986) and widely used in Chinese academic and state demographic analysis, strictly controls the risk groups of different parity, so that unmarried women are limited to affecting the progressive fertility rate of the first child and will not affect the progressive fertility rate of two or more children. However, the first group did not distinguish between unmarried and married groups, so it cannot control the impact of unmarried circumstances.

Based on the detailed analysis of fertility rate by category, TFR of migrant women at county-level is the highest (1.561) in the 2015 mini-census, but the unmarried ratio of this category is the lowest. The same method is applied to calculate the influence of TFR due to the increase level of unmarried ratio in the first 5 years. According to the calculation, for the category with high fertility rate, the change of unmarried ratio has greater impact on the fertility rate. After the unmarried ratio of this category is controlled in recent 5 years, the real TFR has been adjusted from 1.589 to 1.828, the gap of fertility rate is 0.239, an increase of 15%.

In summary, the increasing proportion of unmarried women of childbearing age is also an important factor of the low fertility rate. We also find the role it plays is related to the level of fertility itself, and the higher the fertility rate, the more obvious the effect is. During the statistical analysis of China’s low fertility rate, this unique factor has often been neglected.

More importantly, the marital status of women of childbearing age in the 2015 mini-census is not sensitive to prevailing family planning regulations. Women of childbearing age generally do not need to conceal their actual marital status, and there is no existing literature that reflects the false information of marital status. Therefore, this variable most likely reflects the social reality among the population.

5 Discussion

According to the 2017 World Population Prospects (WPP) as published by the United Nations, the lowest total fertility rate in the world for the period 2010–2014 is in Taiwan, China (1.11); Macao SAR, China (1.19); Hong Kong SAR, China (1.20); Singapore (1.23) and Republic of Korea (1.23). Meanwhile, for the period 2015–2019 the lowest TFRs can be found in Taiwan, China (1.22). This is closely followed by Moldova, Portugal, Singapore and Poland, all of which are forecast to have TFRs below 1.3. For the period 2010–2014, meanwhile, Chinese TFR is reported in the WPP as being 1.60; and climbing to 1.63 in the 2015–2019 period.

Taken at face value, then, using evidence drawn from the 2015 mini-census, it could be argued that China has transitioned to having one of the very lowest fertility rates in the world—if not the lowest. This evidence is in kee** with previous studies which have identified very low fertility rates as derived from census data (Guo and Gu 2014; Zhao and Chen 2011). While the 2013 reforms may have increased fertility rates in one way by boosting the number of second-borns, it might be possible to argue that other aspects of society, economy and policy serve to depress fertility in terms of first-born children not least as determined through an ongoing shift in the age of marriage. On an aggregate level, it appears that the short- to medium-term future of Chinese fertility may be characterised as something of a rollercoaster. In the near future, the impacts of the 2013 reforms will likely wear off, but then the impact of the National Two-child Policy may well serve to boost them again (although, as noted, the scale of this is quite questionable). However, despite these policy boosts, if first births continue to be eschewed/postponed, it may well be that aggregate TFRs stagnate or post only modest increases. When the boosts of these policy interventions run out, and if postponement is still a major feature, then TFRs may fall further. However, in common with most other low fertility countries undergoing the postponement transition, we may then see a rebound in period TFRs as a consequence of the tempo effect.

Disaggregating the data, we see that there is (a) something of a convergence of rural fertility towards urban TFRs and, (b) that the fertility of migrant women is lower than that of non-migrants. Under these circumstances, then, we might be confident in asserting that (a) China has transitioned to circumstances of very low fertility with period TFRs of around 1.0; (b) that the postponement effect is currently in full swing, with no immediate sign of where it will end; and (c) that structural changes in the economy (e.g. urbanisation, growing internal migration) may not be amenable to a rise in fertility under current conditions and therefore, ceteris paribus, China’s population will continue to age rapidly.

This view, of course, is likely to be challenged. As we observed in the introduction, there is a long history of debate regarding the base data used for the calculation of Chinese fertility rates (see, for example, Cai 2008; Lutz et al. 2007). In particular, estimates of TFR based on the census have been held up for especial criticism, with the oft-repeated claim that high degrees of births have been withheld or otherwise misreported (for a review of this debate, see Guo 2012). Apart from the fact that the ‘penalty’ for misreporting births has been further neutered as a consequence of the 2013 and 2015 reforms, the consequence of this consistent claim about under-reporting in the census has, arguably, led to a policy cycle which could be deemed unproductive. Perceived misreporting in the previous censuses and the subsequent ‘correction’ or inflation of TFRs has been used as a justification for the maintenance of strict family planning restrictions.

As in the study by Guo and Gu (2014) concerning the 2010 census, we have presented the data from the 2015 mini-census ‘without any statistical adjustment’ (p. 27). Despite the fact that we are simply reporting the evidence we find in the census, we fully accept that many readers of this article will disregard our findings. This disbelief in the figures, may be embedded in a common ‘belief’ of what the TFR ‘should be’. As Zhang and Zhao (2006) observed regarding the interpretation of the low fertility seen in the 2010 census, ‘For their part, researchers have… been more willing to accept fertility estimates of a higher level than those of a lower level (p. 294).

Yet, before we write these figures off, we might consider the following evidence. Firstly, we have observed that the trends in TFR as calculated from this, and previous censuses, are broadly in line with a general trend towards very low fertility. Secondly, from a qualitative perspective, many of the social and economic developments in China point towards a decline in period TFR—albeit not pointing to a particular level as such (Basten et al. 2014). The impact of changing patterns of marriage, coupled with the contribution of very low fertility among the floating population could arguably serve to severely depress period TFR through the operationalisation of the tempo effect.

A final twist in the puzzle as to determining the ‘true’ fertility figure in China comes from the fact that the Government has itself published a national TFR of 1.05 as derived from the 2015 1% census. As an article in Caixin observes,

The China Statistical Yearbook 2016, published in October by the National Bureau of Statistics, said that China’s total fertility rate in 2015 was only 1.05. The Bureau said China’s average annual TFR from 2010 to 2014 was only 1.2, and the highest TFR in this period was only 1.28 (Wang and Teng 2016).

Indeed, the reporting of these figures in the media explicitly cited China as having ‘the lowest fertility rate in the world’(Kaufman 2016; Murray 2016)—upon which we draw the title of this article. In July 2018, the state-controlled newspaper Global Times stated that ‘The fertility rate in China in 2015 was 1.05’ further citing that TFR in the north-eastern provinces was as low as 0.55 (Cao 2018). Indeed, it is widely accepted that at the provincial level huge swathes of the country are characterised by extremely low fertility. As The Economist reported in 2017 citing ‘National Statistics’, period TFR in Bei**g, Shanghai, Tian**, Liaoning, Jilin and Heilongjiang was below 1.0 (The Economist 2017). All of these figures are, of course, much lower than the figure of 1.6 reported by the then National Health and Family Planning Commission (Leng 2017).

In 2017, however, China’s National Bureau of Statistics ceased publication of the age-specific fertility rate of child-bearing women in the Statistical Yearbook (which had been reported since 2004) (Leng 2017)—thus removing a further means of calculating national TFR based upon official statistics. As demographer Liang Zhongtang remarked, ‘A gap between what the government actually got and what they had expected may persuade them to stop releasing the data’ (Leng 2017).

6 What of the future?

If the evidence is taken at face value, then we simply see Chinese fertility patterns behaving in much the same way as numerous other societies; namely a transition to very low fertility partly driven by the tempo effect in an environment which is considered to be non-conducive to higher levels of fertility (Frejka et al. 2010).

Of course, the extent to which the postponement effect alone drives down period measures of TFR and, by contrast how much recuperation might occur, will largely be shaped by external forces over the next decade or two. There are numerous policies in the pipeline to support couples in their childbearing aspirations; especially relating to kindergarten provision and, potentially, some reforms of the tax code (Gietel-Basten 2016). There is also much potential in the ongoing reform of hukou system to support parents in the floating population. Similarly, local governments may well become even more proactive to support migrants both as workers and as parents. The extent to which these policies may in turn offset other fertility depressing factors such as cost of living and housing in particular, public/private gender roles, high opportunity costs for women, the fragile labour market—and many others besides which have been discussed at length elsewhere—is, of course, uncertain.

Finally, though, we might observe the risk of ‘missing the wood for the trees’. One of the key stated aims of the recent reforms was to tackle the ‘problem’ of population ageing. One might argue that raising fertility as a primary means of offsetting these ‘challenges’ is at best a blunt instrument; at worst a potentially counter-productive one raising, as it does, the total dependency ratio in the short term.

Rather, a closer examination of the ‘aging problem’ is that is a problem relating to extant health and pension systems; relating to productivity and an industrial model reliant on an endless supply of cheap labour; relating to a revolution in family roles which will necessarily mean a reorientation in who is responsible for who in old age. It is arguably by focussing attention on these ‘challenges’ rather than simply increasing the number of babies, that the best potential for tackling the ‘problem’ of aging might lie (Dorling and Gietel-Basten 2017).

7 Conclusion

In this paper, we produced a simple analysis of the 2015 mini-census of China without any statistical manipulation. Given the recent decision by the National Bureau of Statistics to cease publishing age-specific fertility rates, this data source represents one of the few means to calculate national and disaggregated measures of fertility in contemporary China. Our exercise found a national TFR of just above one, and very low TFRs in both urban and rural areas, and especially among migrant women. Our analysis of the contribution of changing trends in marriage lends credence to the idea that the postponement effect is being strongly felt in China.

We anticipate many readers will disregard these findings, simply stating that the figures are ‘too low’. We are not able to challenge preconceived notions of what the TFR in China ‘should be’; nor are we able to adequately interrogate the data in tandem with other sources to be able to properly identify the robustness of our findings. In publishing these data, however, we hope to spur others to explore the issue of this possible transition to very low fertility in contemporary China. Further work is needed in approaching fertility in the era of the Two-child policy in a multidisciplinary, multi-dimensional way; focussing on the role of changes in marriage patterns, preferences, work culture, family pressures—and all in a comparative context. Only by triangulating with (novel) quantitative and qualitative sources will we truly be able to gauge the extent to which these figures as shown in the 2015 mini-census are reliable.

When writing on the 2010 census, and the refusal of many to acknowledge the existence of such low fertility in the 1990s, Zhang and Zhao (2006) cited Ronald Freeman’s acknowledgement in 1986 that he had underestimated the pace and scale of fertility decline in Taiwan; making the admission to convince readers that ‘social scientists, including demographers, have consistently underestimated the rate at which social change can occur’ (Freedman 1986: 529). Zhang and Zhao concluded that the uncertainty around China’s fertility levels at the turn of the 21st century may have arisen not only because of concerns over data, but ‘may also have arisen from the fact that our thinking has fallen behind [China’s] rapid demographic change’ (p. 316). This ‘general professional failing’ resulted in an underestimation of fertility changes in China in the 1990s.

In publishing these figures, we recognise that we may well be chastised by many of our colleagues. However, we would rather this to be the case than be accused of such a ‘general professional failing’ to at least acknowledge the potential for the rapid social change we see in China to have such a profound effect on the fertility rate.