OK, Doomer

On the stickiness of first impressions.

One of the big takeaways from my new book is that trends change, but our thinking doesn’t always keep pace. I think one reason is that first impressions are awfully sticky. There’s a moment in each of our intellectual lives when we first become aware of population issues and if we don’t spend our time constantly following new data (and who has the time?) we tend to keep operating as if the world hasn’t changed. With Earth Day coming up, I can’t help but cite the persistent trope of “overpopulation” as a clear example of this.

Last month I had the pleasure of attending the Tucson Festival of Books and speaking on two panels with attendance of about 100 at each. Now, as you might know, Arizona is a popular retirement destination in the US and, as is a hazard of my profession, I noticed the average age of my attendees was…older. It was also clear that the most popular topic for Q&A was overpopulation. I’ve seen this before from those of the Baby Boomer generation and it makes sense. Many came of age in the late 1960s and early 1970s, when the US environmental movement was building steam. Arguments about population outpacing the Earth’s ability to provide were part of the general ethos. Paul Ehrlich, who published The Population Bomb in 1968, appeared on The Johnny Carson Show over a dozen times and published about overpopulation in Playboy Magazine. General awareness of population and environmental issues has probably never been so high.

Is it justified that so many Boomers have turned into Doomers? Well, in 1968, global population was about 3.5 billion and growing exponentially. There were 127 countries with a total fertility rate of at least 5 children per woman on average—an astounding number. It’s certainly easy to see why many were concerned humans were ‘breeding themselves into oblivion,’ to paraphrase Ehrlich.

But by 2000, which incidentally is close to the time I started becoming aware of demographic trends, the number of countries with super high fertility (5+ children) was down to 39. That’s a huge drop, but 39 is still a significant, especially when you consider that a fertility rate of 3 means each generation is 50% larger than the preceding one.

Today, the number of countries with super high is only 8.

I wonder if the message that super high fertility is rare is reaching younger generations who are just now becoming aware of demographic issues? From what I see in the undergraduate college classroom, it’s not. Students arrive in my environmental studies courses having already drank the Kool-aid about overpopulation from whatever high school environmental curriculum they’ve studied. Could that be because the writers of those texts are clinging to old ideas about rampant super high fertility and passing them down? This would make a great research study so if anyone wants to collaborate or throw some research funding at me for this I’ll bite.  

And let me turn this idea that trends change, but our thinking doesn’t back onto myself. Even I’m guilty of clinging to outdated data, as I recognized repeatedly when writing this most recent book. While I trust the findings of my fellow researchers that countries with high fertility and young populations have lower educational attainment, higher joblessness, persistent poverty, and a higher likelihood of civil conflict, I used to paint high fertility as the number one demographic issue. Now, I’m wavering. It seems that fertility is solidly on a downward path nearly everywhere it’s been high and I’m wondering how constructive it is to continue to beat that drum when there are a rainbow of other issues—both challenges and opportunities—I could highlight. My thinking is definitely evolving on this and I’d love to hear what others think. If decision makers have limited attention, should we keep directing them to high fertility, particularly if it means excluding all else?

I was able to share some more takeaways with The Next Big Idea club. You can take a read or a listen here.