Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Series Editors
Douglas J. Besharov
Neil Gilbert
Chinese Social Policy in a Time of Transition
Edited by Douglas J. Besharov and Karen Baehler
Reconciling Work and Poverty Reduction:
How Successful Are European Welfare States?
Edited by Bea Cantillon and Frank Vandenbroucke
University Adaptation in Difficult Economic Times
Edited by Paola Mattei
Activation or Workfare? Governance and the Neo-Liberal Convergence
Edited by Ivar Lødemel and Amílcar Moreira
Child Welfare Systems and Migrant Children:
A Cross Country Study of Policies and Practice
Edited by Marit Skivenes, Ravinder Barn, Katrin Kriz, and Tarja Pösö
Adjusting to a World in Motion:
Trends in Global Migration and Migration Policy
Edited by Douglas J. Besharov and Mark H. Lopez
Caring for a Living:
Migrant Women, Aging Citizens, and Italian Families
Francesca Degiuli
Child Welfare Removals by the State:
A Cross-Country Analysis of Decision-Making Systems
Edited by Kenneth Burns, Tarja Pösö, and Marit Skivenes
Improving Public Services:
International Experiences in Using Evaluation Tools to Measure Program Performance
Edited by Douglas J. Besharov, Karen J. Baehler, and Jacob Alex Klerman
Welfare, Work, and Poverty:
Social Assistance in China
Qin Gao
Youth Labor in Transition:
Inequalities, Mobility, and Policies in Europe
Edited by Jacqueline O’Reilly, Janine Leschke,
Renate Ortlieb, Martin Seeleib-Kaiser, and Paola Villa
Decent Incomes for All:
Improving Policies in Europe
Edited by Bea Cantillon, Tim Goedemé, and John Hills
Social Exclusion in Cross National Perspective:
Actors, Actions, and Impacts from Above and Below
Edited by Robert J. Chaskin, Bong Joo Lee, and Surinder Jaswal
The “Population Problem” in Pacific Asia
Stuart Gietel-Basten
iii
1
iv
1
Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers
the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education
by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University
Press in the UK and certain other countries.
9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Printed by Sheridan Books, Inc., United States of America
v
To Janet and Paul; Nerice and Celia; and Richard, David, and Wolfgang.
I could not have achieved any of this without you.
vi
vi
CON TEN TS
Foreword ix
Acknowledgments xiii
1
Economic Boom, Demographic Bomb? 1
2
Low Fertility, Population Decline, and Aging: Pacific Asia’s
“Population Problem” 16
3
Toward a Multidimensional Measurement of Fertility in Pacific Asia 36
4
Fertility Preferences in Low-Fertility Pacific Asia 58
5
Why Does the Two-Child Ideal Turn into a One-Child Intention? 77
6
Childlessness and the Retreat from Marriage 95
vii
vi
viii Contents
7
The Two-Child Policy: China’s “Silver Bullet”? 118
8
Toward a Holistic View of Childbearing in China 142
9
Conclusions 161
References 179
Index 215
ix
F OREWORD
T his is a book about the very low fertility rates we see in contemporary Pacific
Asia—about how they might have come about, what policies have been
implemented to try to increase them (and why those policies have largely had
little effect), and what the consequences of all of this might be.
The problem with writing a book about any contemporary issue is that “con-
temporary” at the time of writing, publishing, and reading can mean three dif-
ferent things. While I cannot predict the future, I can at least acknowledge what
has changed in the past year or so since the final draft went off to the publisher.
Fortunately, the new trends only make the central message of the book timelier.
In December 2018, it was announced that South Korea’s total fertility rate (TFR)
fell to 0.96, its lowest level ever and one of the very lowest national TFRs ever
recorded. China has ceased publishing the data required to adequately calculate
the TFR at the national level, perhaps reflecting a concern about extremely low
levels. However, we do know that in 2018 just 15 million children were born
in China. This figure—significantly lower than the 20 million forecasted by the
Chinese government—is further evidence that the two-child policy is not a
“silver bullet” to fix the population problem. The 2018 TFR in Singapore fell to
1.16, a 10-year low. In Japan, while the TFR appears to have stabilized at around
1.4, changes to the population structure mean that only around 925,000 births
were recorded in 2018, again the lowest number on record.
Taken together, the very latest data from Pacific Asia show us that fertility re-
mains stubbornly low, even at a time when the rhetoric surrounding both aging
and low fertility is increasing, and in the midst of ever more comprehensive
ix
x
x Foreword
Foreword xi
little consensus around the key underlying drivers. But it does point us to two
things of relevance to this book. First, in terms of persistently higher fertility in
postindustrial and advanced economies, there is clearly no one magic formula
for countries to follow. This means we have to update our thinking. Even 10
years ago, for example, the idea that Germany would have the same period TFR
as Finland would have been risible.
The second major lesson is that low fertility has not “gone away” in Europe. As
I argue in this book, if we see low fertility—or at least the gap between aspirations
and outcomes—not as a problem in itself but rather as a symptom of other up-
stream institutional malfunctions, then we need to redouble our efforts to look
both at this new era of very low fertility in the European context and at linkages
and commonalities to the Asian context. In the post–Economic Crisis world,
what roles can be ascribed to dualization of the labor market? Or welfare state
retrenchment? Or the development of more conservative views linked to popu-
lism? Only through a holistic understanding of the nature and context of family
formation (and aging) in a comparative framework can we begin to develop
public policies to adequately engage with—and, arguably, properly specify—the
“population problem” in Pacific Asia, Europe, and beyond.
Finally, for the most up-to-date data, readers are directed to the following
Web resources:
World Population Prospects, United Nations: population.un.org/wpp/
World Development Indicators, World Bank: wdi.worldbank.org/
The Human Fertility Database, MPIDR & VID: humanfertility.org
xi
xi
xiii
xvi
xiv Acknowledgments
1
ECONOMIC BOOM, DEMOGRAPHIC BOMB?
Anyone who studies the demography of Pacific Asia might be forgiven for
thinking that there is no good news at all. China, Japan, Taiwan, Hong Kong,
Singapore, and South Korea,1 once the places of so much economic hope, are
now more often than not presented as demographically decrepit. Sometimes it is
hard to tell which is the most favored subject for writers in newspapers or busi-
ness magazines: the apocalyptic forecasts of aging and decline, or the ever more
imaginative, maybe desperate, ways in which governments are trying to tackle
it. Think switching the lights off in government offices on a Wednesday night to
encourage baby-making.
The way the “problem” is presented is very simple: Population aging and de-
cline are bad—bad for the economy, bad for the maintenance of health and wel-
fare systems, bad for the existential future of the country, even bad for the race or
the culture. Low fertility is the culprit. As such: fix low fertility, fix the problem.
These attempts at “fixing” low fertility have taken the form of a suite of
policies across the region focused both on incentivizing childbearing in a mon-
etary sense and on trying to ameliorate the perceived boundaries to either mar-
riage or having children. These fixes either address concerns that people give to
survey-takers about childbearing or otherwise try to cajole people into doing
something that, if you believe the prevailing narrative, they simply do not want
to do. Often wedded to nationalist discourses and a culture of blame, there is
generally a rather thin line between the “carrot and stick.” In China, meanwhile,
there is a simpler view: allowing people to have more children will make the pop-
ulation problem go away.
The only problem is that these policies don’t seem to be working especially
well. These territories still have some of the very lowest fertility rates in the world.
1
2
given the hard and soft policies outlined previously. Three children! Back to
work! And all in the Ministry responsible for encouraging childbearing! Only, in
this case, this 34-year-old mother of three had a heart attack and died just a week
later. She was working seven-day weeks to catch up on her workload and taking
primary responsibility for looking after her children (Straits Times 2016b).
Now, the world doesn’t need another book complaining about this state of
affairs; presenting miserable forecasts of a miserable future. We need to think
differently about this. Do it differently. Conceptually, even, some big questions
have not really been properly asked. Everyone says the fertility rate is too low, but
then that assumes that there is a “right” fertility rate. If that’s the case, what is it,
and why? A shrinking population is perceived as a mortal problem, as is aging.
But is this demographically deterministic view about the size of populations re-
ally so valid?
Thinking Multidimensionally
What I want to argue in this book, then, is that we need to change our thinking
of the population problem in two ways. The current way to think about it is in a
linear, two-dimensional direction. Aging and decline = bad; low fertility = cause;
therefore, fix low fertility. Rather, I think we need to think multidimensionally
about this. We need to be much clearer about what we mean by low fertility
and how this measure is composed. We then need to learn more about what
the preferences are for people and whether we are really in a no-hope era of
individualism in which children are an expensive consumer good whose di-
rect and indirect opportunity costs are just too high. We need to find out more
about the context of these clearly changing choices regarding how marriage and
childbearing fit into the life cycle of men and women in low-fertility Pacific Asia
(LFPA).2 In other words, if we can better identify the root of the issue, then we
can design better policies to support people.
So far, so normal: how to design more cunning ways to get people to have
more babies. But, my approach is different.
There is strong evidence that, despite what the narrative might suggest, people
do want to have children, and they do want to get married—or at least get into
long-term, stable unions. These low-marriage and low-fertility rates, I suggest,
are the outcome of a malfunction in society—a consequence of institutions that
are not working to allow people to actualize their own aspirations. Few people in
the region report at a young age an aspiration to be single and childless for their
whole lives, but high percentages of people are. Of course, many women and
men are unable to become parents for biological reasons, with extended post-
ponement of childbearing only serving to increase the chances of not being able
4
to conceive. But, this does not account for the very high proportions we see in
places such as Hong Kong. So, what is going on? Are respondents lying systemat-
ically in surveys? Or, more likely, is it the case that things happening in their lives
simply don’t allow that desired situation to come about? I am not the first person
to make this argument. Australian demographer Peter McDonald puts it very
succinctly: “ideals go unrealized because of countervailing forces ensuing from
the nature of modern societies” (McDonald 2006, 26). In other words, “Low fer-
tility is an unintended rather than a deliberate outcome of changing social and
economic institutions” (McDonald 2006, 26).
This gets us to think differently about low fertility. Rather than being the
problem, it is the symptom of various institutional malfunctions. There have
(rightly) been strong criticisms of prevailing fertility policies for using women’s
bodies to meet some kind of target of fertility. I would argue that policies that
put aspirations of individuals first and that explore (and ultimately remove) the
barriers to achieving these aspirations are likely to be the policies that succeed.
But, these policies should also be multidimensional in terms of looking at these
barriers to achieving aspirations and how they might be removed.
Indeed, there is arguably a precedent when we look at the “other side of
the coin” with regard to population policies, namely, policies to bring fertility
rates down. There is an argument that family planning policies over the past
half century were so effective because they were aligned with the aspirations of
women. Women wanted fewer children, more education, more rights, and more
opportunities for themselves and their offspring. Beneath these aspirations,
however, were multiple barriers relating to institutions, family, gender, and so
on. Fertility was decreased, then, not just by one policy of flooding the popu-
lation with contraceptives. Rather, it was a comprehensive suite of policies that
addressed the gamut of barriers to lowering fertility: from health to education;
from access to family planning to acceptance of family planning; and by talking
to women and men. It wasn’t easy, but it was successful. It was successful be-
cause it was built on the premise that high fertility might have been considered a
problem but was fundamentally an outcome of other problems.
Now, turning to low- fertility countries, there is an argument— set out
previously—that these policies to encourage childbearing are not working be-
cause they are not aligned with women’s aspirations. This is the narrative of
individualism, of egoism, of giving up. This view has been justified by a latent
intergenerational tension and, arguably, a misreading of demographic and social
theory. But, this idea that children have gone out of fashion doesn’t hold water.
Surveys say that there is still a relatively strong demand not only to have children
but also to have more than one (although there are some important regional
differences). Having said that, it is clear that there are a number of obstacles
to achieving this aspiration. At the time of writing, I am living in Hong Kong.
Housing is very expensive. The expectations for your children are sky-high, and
so are the costs of giving them what is felt to be the best education. Working
5
hours are incredibly long and not conducive to either dating or looking after
small families. Getting a stable, well-paid job is increasingly an aspiration in it-
self, rather than an expectation. We see the same issues across the region. In this
vein, giving someone a few thousand dollars might help a bit, but it is hardly
going to be transformative. But, then, policies that directly address some of these
features (e.g., accessing child care) don’t seem to have much success either.
Of course, if you actually talk to people, you will quickly find that the barriers
to marriage and childbearing are quite multidimensional in nature, drawing
on almost all aspects of life. While surveys might give the top three reasons for
staying single, these life choices are the result of myriad social processes oper-
ating at the family, community, local, regional, and global levels. Only by re-
ally understanding these processes and how they operate as barriers to meeting
aspirations do we have any chance of overcoming them. In other words, we have
to think multidimensionally about fertility. The point I want to make in this book
is that apparently problematic demographic measures, then, are an outcome
or a symptom of other problems rather than a ‘problem to be fixed’ in and of
themselves.
7.0
6.0
TFR/ideal family size
5.0
4.0
3.0
2.0
1.0
0
1960
1962
1964
1967
1969
1971
1973
1975
1977
1979
1981
1983
1985
1987
1989
1991
1993
1995
1997
1999
2001
2003
2005
2007
2009
2011
2013
2015
Mean ideal family size TFR
Figure 1.1. The gap between ideal and realized fertility, women aged 15 to 45 years, Taiwan.
TFR = total fertility rate.
Sources: Republic of China National Development Council 2016; various surveys.
In other words, we can change the narrative. Rather than talking about
“targets” set by the state, we can instead talk about “aspirations” set by people. In
doing this, we are much more aligned with the reproductive rights agenda that
was agreed on by (almost) all countries of the world back at the International
Conference on Population and Development in Cairo in 1994. In the dec-
laration that emanated from that conference, it was said that “Reproductive
health . . . implies that people are able to have a satisfying and safe sex life and
that they have the capability to reproduce and the freedom to decide if, when and
how often to do so” (UNFPA 2004). This statement was largely designed to be ap-
propriate for countries where women felt cajoled into limiting their childbearing
for the sake of a target; I would argue that the same principle holds for people in
low-fertility countries.
Objective 7.14 is, therefore, for signatories:
A THEORETICAL VACUUM
Demography is, as Dudley Kirk (1996, 361) once remarked, “a science short
on theory.” Perhaps many readers will be familiar with demographic transition
theory (see Coale 1984 for an explanation), which describes the relationship be-
tween declining mortality, fertility and population growth. Yet, the predictive
power of demographic transition theory has been questioned by many authors
for various reasons, especially in terms of having omitted an in-depth explora-
tion of causal roles played by institutions not adequately explored in the orig-
inal formulation (Teitelbaum 1975) (such as familial wealth flows; Barkow and
Burley 1980). This is especially the case in the fifth, or post-transitional, epoch of
very low fertility and mortality rates that we are generally concerned with in this
book. As Kirk (1996, 387) notes, “In Western areas of low fertility we are moving
into a post-transition era, where the old guidelines are no longer appropriate,
an era in which much more attention will have to be given to raising fertility,
rather than to lower it. . . . What happens after the transition is the most exciting
problem in modern demography, for which transition theory can provide some
guidance but few answers, as it is tied to a particular epoch of history.” This has
led Lutz (2007, 16) to suggest that “the Demographic Transition paradigm . . . es-
sentially has nothing to say about the future of fertility in Europe.” Clearly, the
same view can hold for Asia. In other words, as Lutz (2007, 16) continues, “the
social sciences as a whole have yet to come up with a useful theory to predict the
future fertility level of post-Demographic Transition societies.”
Later in the book, I will refer to a few theories that are applied within
demography—although whether a scientist in another field would call them
theories is open to question. These theories have each, in their own way, been ap-
plied to the LFPA context to try to understand current low fertility and, in some
9
cases, predict the future. Each will be referred to throughout the book. The in-
complete gender revolution theory, for example, posits that while women’s public
sphere roles have changed beyond all recognition, in many settings expectations
of them in the private sphere, or their domestic roles, have largely stayed the
same (Goldscheider, Bernhardt, and Lappegård 2015; Esping-Andersen 2009).
This mismatch is considered to be a key driver in shaping low fertility because
the tension between these two roles is acted out in terms of the postponement,
limiting, or eschewing of childbearing.
Two other theoretical threads within demography have been applied to the
kind of low fertility settings we are exploring in this book. Each describes a
set of societal circumstances that, in principle, not only characterize low fer-
tility societies but may also serve to sustain such low fertility. The second demo-
graphic transition theory (Lesthaeghe 2010, 2014) posits that through the process
of modernization, a former emphasis on basic material needs, such as income,
work conditions, housing, children and adult health, schooling, social security,
and an emphasis on solidarity, shifts toward a new emphasis on individual au-
tonomy, expressive work and socialization values, self-actualization, grass-roots
democracy, and recognition of the individual (Lesthaeghe 2014). This is linked,
through other related mechanisms, to structural sub-replacement fertility.
Another theory, meanwhile, goes further. The low-fertility trap hypothesis
posits that once a society has experienced a prolonged period of low fertility, a
series of self-reinforcing mechanisms act to make any increase in fertility ever
harder to achieve (Lutz, Skirbekk, and Testa 2006). These mechanisms come
about through the economic and political effects of population aging, the dem-
ographic effect of fewer and fewer women of childbearing age, and, crucially for
our understanding in this book, a normalization of smaller family sizes (and a
societal adjustment toward that), as reflected in fertility preferences.
Bearing all of this in mind, I want to say a little something about the approach
that I will be taking in the book. I am a demographer. But, I have come to the
conclusion that an understanding of demography and demography theory (such
as there is much theory) can only take us so far in trying to understand what is
going on. As such, I have sought to employ some insights from other approaches
and other disciplines. It is a little unusual, for example, for demographers to de-
ploy qualitative data, but I will. It is also quite unusual for demographers to de-
ploy late modern social theory. I have always thought this rather odd because
theorists such as Anthony Giddens, Ulrich Beck, and Elizabeth Beck-Gernsheim
have been quite preoccupied with the process of family formation and how this
fits into other aspects of modern life.
According to Beck and Beck-Gernsheim, through the process of moderniza-
tion, the function of the family has changed from a primarily economic orien-
tation geared toward production. Within these processes, men and women have
been active agents in shaping and reshaping their own identities within both
the home and the wider world. Rather than living out the lives or biographies
10
that past institutions had designed for them, men and women have set out to
organize their own biographies, with the goal of creating a life of one’s own.
Women, for example, are theoretically cut free from their status fate (Beck and
Beck-Gernsheim 2002, 202) as housewives. This new capacity to design one’s
own biography is termed individualization.
Beck and Beck-Gernsheim also describe another ongoing transition in so-
ciety contemporaneous to the move into—and out of—modernity as relating
to risk (Beck 1992). Though this concept has been expanded and applied in a
variety of contexts (e.g., the environment), at its heart is an understanding of
the manner by which risk is pooled. Traditionally, risk is pooled at the familial
level. Through the course of modernity (and the development, in some places,
of the welfare state), risk is then pooled with the state and employers. Finally, in
late-or post-modernity, when both the extended family and the big state take
on a less active role in people’s lives, risk is transferred onto the shoulders of the
individual. Of course, this transition is often closely aligned to shifts in individ-
ualization as described previously. Furthermore, the amount of time that this
transition takes is critical to understanding how it can affect people. In many of
the settings we explore, the concept of “compressed modernity” can be—and has
been—applied (e.g., Chang 2010).
These two concepts of risk and individualization have already been applied
to the Pacific Asian context in a number of important studies (e.g., Chan 2009),
although the explicit application to demography has been rather scarce (see Hall
2002 for a notable exception).
In the first section of this chapter, I tried to set out a statement of principles about
how I want to try to tackle the “problem part” of the population problem and to
introduce a new way of thinking about it. Before I set about showing how I am
going to achieve this, I want to justify a pretty major cleavage in the book. I have
decided to consider China and the other low-fertility settings separately because
the contexts of both fertility decline and possible responses now and in the future
are, at least at face value, somewhat different. This is not to say that Taiwan, Hong
Kong, Japan, Singapore, and South Korea are all the same. Absolutely far from it.
But, the shared characteristics are such that the orthodox view in the literature is
to consider these territories separately from China.
In this introductory chapter, I have only presented the population problem
and the ensuing distribution of blame in a very superficial, maybe even glib way.
It clearly requires a more in-depth exploration. In Chapter 2, therefore, I more
formally set out the parameters of the population problem by describing just
what it is that everyone is so worried about. I then describe the efforts that dif-
ferent governments have made to fix the supposed root of the problem, namely,
1
very low fertility. Given the arguably modest success of these policies, I then talk
about who gets the blame for this: what are the presented reasons for this pro-
longed period of low fertility?
Having identified that low fertility—very broadly defined—is considered in
most extant literature to be at the root of the population problem, in Chapter 3
I explore the recent changes in birth rates in Taiwan, Hong Kong, Singapore,
South Korea, and Japan in more depth. The point of this chapter is to move be-
yond the traditional two-dimensional presentation of fertility through the total
fertility rate—which elicits a one-dimensional response, of simply trying to
increase it. Rather, by considering a multidimensional approach by exploring
how fertility transition actually occurred, through examining adjusted and co-
hort change as well as, critically, changes in the parity distribution of families,
we can have a much better idea of how family structures have changed. In
other words, to design a multidimensional population policy, we need to
have at least a multidimensional understanding of the “problem”. The chapter
concludes that the rise in zero/one-child families, coupled with the sharp de-
cline in families with three or more children, is at the heart of the low-fertility
paradigm. Finally, readers are reminded that fertility rates are little more than
averages. What this means is that in societies where large families are rare, a
policy that supports couples with one child to have another will only ever have
a relatively modest effect on fertility if there is no net change in the number
of people having no children at all. This chapter is demographic in nature, but
completely nontechnical.
After Chapter 3 identifies what people have done and what people do, Chapter 4
sets out to explore what people would like to do. Earlier in this introduction
and in Chapter 2, I set out how men and women of childbearing age are being
blamed for the population problem and how this blame is depicted as selfish-
ness, eschewing of a generational responsibly, and giving up on marriage and
childbearing. Chapter 4, then, sets out to explore the extent to which this is or
is not the case. Rather quickly, the evidence seems to point to the facts that not
only are respondents to surveys keen on getting married and having children but
also there is a strong two-child norm in the region. I argue that this gap has been
construed as a “space” in which pronatalist policies can operate. This has been
used as a justification for such policies that, arguably, are more geared toward
meeting reproductive targets than self-actualization. However, if we think in a
rights-based framework, it shows how people’s aspirations are being thwarted
by malfunctioning institutions. We can see this in the way that ideals turn into
intentions either because of prolonged periods of singledom or, in many cases,
after the birth of the first child. In this vein, people haven’t given up on the idea
of marriage and childbirth; it is just that circumstances got in the way. Rather
than the selfish eschewing of generational responsibilities, this is more a case of
thwarted dreams. Indeed, while the language of self-actualization is often used in
the sense of lower fertility as a consequence of seeking alternative pleasures, we
12
can see how self-actualization in the sense of a desirable marriage and children is
actually being desired and denied.
Chapter 5 focuses on marital fertility and explicitly asks why couples aren’t
meeting their ideals. After a brief exploration of demographic predictors of
moving to having a second child, I explore what surveys can tell us about these
reasons. These reasons are often presented in a very unidimensional way—
childbearing is too expensive; it interferes with careers; it is too much of a phys-
ical burden; parents think of themselves as being too old. This, therefore, elicits
a unidimensional policy response—of cash grants, investment in childcare, of-
fering in-vitro fertilization, and so on. But, it appears to me that these unidimen-
sional reasons for eschewing further childbearing can be deconstructed to show
other, underlying reasons. The cost of childbearing, for example, has to be linked
to the stability of household incomes in an ever more fragile labor market, and
the cost of education has to be linked to the quality of public schools and the need
to pay for private education. Issues relating to children hurting one’s career have
as much to do with work culture and gender roles as they do with the capacity
to find and pay for a few hours of child care. Indeed, we know of many cases in
which family policy provision is not taken up because of a fear of harm to one’s
career. These ideas, then, represent a multidimensional way of looking at policy
and low fertility. To develop this into a multidimensional view of the reasons
for low fertility, I will present the findings of a qualitative project performed
by myself and colleagues in Taiwan, which shows how all of these elements are
interlinked—along with intergenerational concerns regarding caring for parents.
Together, this provides a justification for starting to think about a multidimen-
sional view of population policy that will be returned to later. I end this chapter
with some further reflections on how all of this can fit into some of the core social
theory themes relating to risk and individualization.
As Chapter 3 showed the demographic importance of childlessness and
Chapter 4 showed that people do not seem to have fallen out of love with the
idea of getting married, in Chapter 6 I will use new surveys from across LFPA
to demonstrate the reasons that this is the case. I will show that, rather than a
unidimensional view of selfish millennials eschewing childbearing, for whom a
unidimensional policy response is to organize dating events and bribe with baby
bonuses, this retreat from marriage—because marriage is intrinsically linked
to childbearing—is actually being built on major structural issues within LFPA
societies. These issues relate to fragility in the labor market, inability to find
an adequate partner because of various mismatches in the marriage market—
including expectations regarding gender roles—and the impact that the mar-
riage package will have on the career aspirations of men and, especially, women.
I reflect on how these can be linked into the social theory issues I mention earlier,
namely risk and individualization. A multidimensional population policy, there-
fore, has to consider these underlying structural issues that are shaping decisions
toward childlessness and, ultimately, lower fertility.
13
NOTES
1 Throughout the text, the following expressions relate to the given United
Nations’ defined terms: China = People’s Republic of China (excluding the
Special Administrative Regions of Hong Kong and Macau unless otherwise
stated); Taiwan = China, Taiwan Province of China; Hong Kong = China,
Hong Kong SAR; South Korea/Korea = Republic of Korea. No political state-
ment is meant by the use of these commonly expressed names.
2 This rather clumsy abbreviation will be used throughout to indicate the fol-
lowing territories that form the main focus of this book: Japan, Taiwan, Hong
Kong SAR, the People’s Republic of China, Singapore, and South Korea.
The term Pacific Asia, rather than East Asia, is employed because, of course,
Singapore is in South-East Asia. Furthermore, the term has a pedigree in pre-
vious studies of low fertility (see, e.g., Jones, Straughan, and Chan, 2009).
16
2
LOW FERTILITY, POPULATION DECLINE,
AND AGING
PACIFIC ASIA’S “POPULATION PROBLEM”
16
17
together. Again, in the press, population decline is either seen as the corollary
of population aging as the cause of future economic malaise in Pacific Asia or
is addressed in its own right. An article on Nippon.com leads with the assertion,
“Depopulation continues to be a dire problem facing Japan” (Nippon.com 2014).
In 2014, The Economist’s “Banyan” headline on Japanese demography referred to
“[t]he incredible shrinking country,” stating that “[a] quiet but constant ticking
can be heard from the demographic time bomb that sits beneath the world’s
third-largest economy. This week it made a louder tick than usual: official sta-
tistics show that the population declined last year by a record 244,000 people—
roughly the population of the London Borough of Hackney. . . . It is plausible to
think that the country could learn to live with its shrinking population. But that
might mean also embracing a much diminished economic and political role in
the world. Mr. Abe would seem to be the last leader to accept that” (Economist
2014). An edition of the Toronto Globe and Mail from October 2014 ran with the
headline, “A Bleak Future and Population Crisis for South Korea,” stating that
the forecasted changes in total population in the country were “not population
decline [but] population collapse” (Ibbitson 2014). Indeed, the logical extension
of this narrative regarding population decline is an emerging concern about pop-
ulation “extinction.”
Population stagnation and decline have been widely linked to possible stalling
economic growth in China. A special series of articles in the UK Financial Times
in 2015 explored the “End of the Migrant Miracle” (FT.com 2015) and China
crossing the “Lewis Turning Point.” This is a familiar concept in the academic
economics literature, which posits that the drying up of the surplus rural labor
that has driven China’s export growth through low-end manufacturing will lead
to wage inflation and a drag on exports (e.g., Zhang et al., 2011). China’s future
demographic travails are often compared to the “more favorable” circumstances
of India, again with insinuations made about the impact of the population de-
cline on future economic growth.
Concern regarding the “population problem” is expressed at the very highest
policy levels across Pacific Asia. In 2012, Masaaki Shirakawa, Governor of the
Bank of Japan, stated that “if you look back at 1992, with hindsight, Japan around
that time was painfully looking for ways to recover in the aftermath of the bubble
economy. At that stage, I recall that most Japanese people along with economists
did not grasp the gravity of population aging coupled with a low birth rate for
Japan’s economy as properly as we later came to realize” (Shirakawa 2012). Other
senior politicians have taken a more robust position. Perhaps the most notable is
Taiwan’s former President Ma Ying-jeou declaring in 2011 that “[t]he low birth
rate is a national security issue” which required, in the words of Minister of the
Interior Jiang Yi-huah, “national security-level measures” to be taken to combat
them (Kuo 2011). Elsewhere in Taiwan, Hau Lung-Bin, in his inaugural speech
as mayor of Taipei in 2010 stated that “[t]he falling birthrates have made a sig-
nificant impact on our already graying population over the recent years. This
19
phenomenon will indeed cripple our city’s development” (Hau 2009, emphasis
added).
Looking at the evidence, we can perhaps see why the issue of population
aging and decline is such an important part of the discourse regarding popula-
tion change in Pacific Asia.
In Figure 2.1, we can see that the future of population aging in Pacific Asia
is certainly a dramatic one. The measurement employed here is the old-age de-
pendency ratio (OADR). Along with the median age of the population, this is the
most widely employed measurement of population aging. The measure is derived
by simply taking the total population older than 65 years (called the “dependent”
population) and dividing this by the total population aged 15 to 64 years (the
“working-age” population)—and then multiplying by 100. To put this in a per-
haps more intuitive way, for every 100 people 15 to 64 years old in Hong Kong
in 2010 there would be about 20 older than 65 years. This measurement is the
default choice for national statistical offices, where a measurement of aging is
produced (see, e.g., Nishioka et al. 2011). It is also the default measurement in
academic, policy, and media analyses of population aging. Very recent studies
that uncritically apply the OADR include studies of the relationship of aging and
saving rates in China (Hu 2015) and pro-elderly social spending (Vanhuysse
2012), as well as extremely influential papers on demography published in
100.0
90.0
80.0
Old age dependency ratio
70.0
60.0
50.0
40.0
30.0
20.0
10.0
0
90
00
10
20
30
40
50
60
70
80
90
00
19
20
20
20
20
20
20
20
20
20
20
21
Figure 2.1. Old age dependency ratios for low-fertility Pacific Asia.
Source: UNPD 2015.
20
Science (Lee 2011) and in textbooks (e.g., Mujahid 2012). To take just a couple
of examples from the press: the Korea Times reported in 2012 that “the [Korean]
old age dependency ratio is predicted to steadily rise in the coming years until
people over 65, who are no longer economically active, will outnumber workers
in 2039. . . . It said in 2050, every worker in the country will have to support 1.65
people who no longer earn a living” (Yonhap 2012), while The Times of London
states that “[t]he ratio of dependent pensioners to workers, known as the old-age
dependency ratio, is 41% in Japan and is expected to rise to 72% by 2050. . . . The
equivalent figures for the UK are 27% and 42%, according to the World Bank and
UN. . . . This gives the UK more time to adjust as it shifts from an aging to an aged
society” (The Times 2014). The popular book referred to earlier, Agequake, uses
the dependency ratio in a more colorful metaphor, referring to the forthcoming
increase of the Japanese OADR as “almost one drone for every two worker bees”
(Wallace 2001, 174).
These figures as reported by The Times are indicative of the astonishing
increases shown in Figure 2.1. In Japan, the latest United Nations Population
Division (UNPD) forecasts (UNPD 2015) suggest that the OADR will rise
from 43.6 in 2010 to 57.7 in 2030 and to 71.8 by 2060. Long-range estimates di-
verge between the United Nations (UN) and the Japanese National Institute of
Population and Social Security, with the latter suggesting a further increase to
more than 80 by 2064, with a further modest rise to the end of the century (IPSS
2007)—in the language of Agequake, this equates to four drones for every five
worker bees—while the UN assumes a ceiling of about 73.0 being reached mid-
century and then stabilization to century’s end. In Taiwan, while the OADR is
currently much lower than Japan’s at just 17.9 (2010–15; UNPD 2015), it is set to
increase very dramatically to 44.7 by 2030, to 71.2 by 2050, and to 83.1 by 2060.
Indeed, by mid-century, Hong Kong and South Korea will be characterized by
OADRs of just under 70. Singapore’s OADR is forecast to increase to more than
double from 15.2 in 2010–15 to 36.5 by 2030–35 (UNPD figures), followed by a
further rise to 61.6 by mid-century and 82.3 by century’s end. Even Thailand and
China will see dramatic increases. The former is forecast to increase from just
14.5 in 2010 to 29.2 by 2030, with the UN forecasting a further increase to 52.5
by mid-century and 61.2 by 2065. Finally, the UN forecasts for China suggest
an increase in OADR from 20.5 in 2010 to 25.3 by 2030, to 46.7 by 2050, and to
59.9 by 2070. To take a global view, UN forecasts for 2050 suggest that four of
the eight “oldest” territories in the world will be in East Asia (Taiwan first, Japan
second, South Korea seventh, and Hong Kong eighth), with Spain being the third
oldest and Italy, Portugal, and Greece making up the rest. By 2070, Taiwan, South
Korea, Singapore, and Japan are forecasted to be the four oldest territories in
the world, while by century’s end, the mantle of “oldest country” in the world
is forecasted to be passed to Singapore. Here, then, is the grand narrative of a
rapidly aging Asia, which will see its supposed guaranteed economic prosperity
challenged over the coming century.
21
(a) 130
120
100
90
80
70
60
50
40
30
15
25
35
45
55
65
75
85
95
20
20
20
20
20
20
20
20
20
China Hong Kong
Japan Korea
Taiwan Singapore
(b) 130
Relative 20–24 pop, size (2015–20 = 100)
120
110
100
90
80
70
60
50
40
30
5
5
5
55
65
75
85
95
1
2
4
20
20
20
20
20
20
20
20
20
Figure 2.2. Forecasts of population stagnation and decline: (a) total population; (b) population
aged 20–25 years. Indexed to 2015.
Source: UNPD 2015.
23
(a) 140
120 m
50
=
90
Total population (millions)
100 20
80
60
40 m
10
= 5m 1m 5m
9 5 = = 0. 62
20 21 40 50
= =
22 50 00
23 24 30
0
2006
2030
2060
2090
2120
2150
2180
2210
2240
2270
2300
2330
2360
2390
2420
2450
2480
2600
2900
(b) 60
m
50 40
=
Total population (millions)
56 m
20 30
40 =
74 m
20 20
30 =
97
20 m
20 10
= 5m m
6 0. 1m
3
0. 01
21 =
= 0.
10 98 =
21 56 03
22 ..2
5
.
0
2010
2020
2030
2040
2050
2060
2070
2080
2090
2100
2110
2120
2130
2140
2150
2160
2170
2180
2190
2200
2210
2220
2230
2240
2250
2260
Figure 2.3. Very-long-range population projections for (a) Japan and (b) South Korea.
Sources: National Institute of Population and Social Security Research 2006; Ysj.or.kr 2014.
studies, such as that by Stephen [2011], consider more explicit implications such
as the capacity to recruit military forces.) This is especially important in the con-
text of the delicate state of international relations in the region and tense historical
associations (see Part III of Pekkanen, Ravenhill, and Foot 2014).
It is the biggest issue in this country. We are the worst in the world at
reproducing ourselves, so we felt like this was an issue we had to tackle. We
knew that the government had tried many things, whether it be launching
perfumes with pheromones in them or trying speed-dating nights, and
many of these things may have been creative but didn't necessarily work.
So we thought, why don't we do the most creative thing we can to fix this
problem, which is come up with a rap song? (Leyl 2012)
Taken at face value, these policies (or shall we say “interventions”) seem helpful
and harmless. The news reports consistently say that childbearing is too expen-
sive, so policies to support parents in their efforts make sense. Similarly, although
one might question whether the government belongs in the bedroom, switching
the lights off at work is a gimmick that at least gets people talking about fertility
and the population problem.
But, while we might chuckle at the efforts of besuited Pacific Asian politicians
trying to encourage Millennials to “get it on,” we mustn’t lose sight of the political
reality. As stated previously, low fertility rates are talked about as an existential
crisis, even a national security issue. And one should not be confused: it is the
fault of the citizen. While the word “pronatalism” is only infrequently used in po-
litical discourse, sometime the mask slips.
Taiwan’s population policy is simply to “promote marriage and childbirth
at suitable ages” (Executive Yuan of the Republic of China 2013). Elsewhere,
Jeon Soo-ho, team leader of the Seoul government’s Women and Family Policy
Department, stated in 2014 that “Seoul city is trying its best to encourage
people to have more children, but we still need serious help from the govern-
ment” (Kung 2014). Earlier, I referred to the concern expressed by the mayor
of Taipei about low fertility rates crippling the city’s development. In response
to this, he announced in his inaugural speech that the city’s government would
“unveil a series of generous incentive programs to encourage marriages, stimu-
late childbirths and provide more job opportunities for our young people” (Hau
2009). He continued to say, “This is one of the most important policies I will
execute in the next four years” (Hau 2009). In 2013, Singapore Prime Minister
Lee Hsien Loong’s New Year Message said, “We have to find effective ways to en-
courage Singaporeans to have more babies” (Adam 2013). No doubt, he had the
words of his father Lee Kuan Yew, written just the year before, in the forefront of
his mind: “If we go on like that, this place would fold up because there will be no
original citizens left to form the majority” (Adam 2013).
28
Plus, some of the interventions can be quite, shall we say, sinister—or at least
pretty insensitive. In South Korea, the Korea Productivity Center, a government
agency, held a competition in 2015 to find a poster to “boost the birthrate.” The
winning poster showed two little saplings growing from the soil. The sapling
on the right was bright and green under a blue sky, while the sapling on the
left was weak, dying, and under a gray sky. The sapling on the right had two
leaves; the sapling on the right just one. The caption? “One is not enough.” As if
that wasn’t clear enough, the subtitle read: “Because an only child does not have
siblings, he or she can be slow in social and human development. . . . Because
he or she had control at home, an only child can easily become selfish” (Korea
JoongAng Daily 2015). Indeed, these posters are reminiscent of the old family
planning posters from Korea and elsewhere that showed a miserable-looking big
family compared with a happy-looking family with fewer children (Koreabridge
2011). Also, in South Korea, the government recently published a map of all re-
gions colored by various shades of pink denoting the number of women of child-
bearing age, denoting “fertility potential.” Such was the outcry that the website
was quickly taken down. As one blogger noted, “They counted fertile women like
they counted the number of livestock” (quoted in Choe 2016).
Indeed, this commodification of childbearing is a common theme in critiques
of these policies. Referring to policies in Taiwan, for example, demographer Lee
Meilin wrote in 2009 that the policies there were an “instrumentalization of
women’s bodies . . . taking women’s bodies as an instrument to fulfil [a]nation’s
target goal” (Lee 2009). This kind of target goal is typified in the following, taken
from a news report describing the objectives of the South Korean government:
In announcing its third framework plan in Dec. 2015, Seoul set a total fer-
tility rate target of 1.5 by 2020. Initially, it had pledged measures to increase
the number of newborns this year to 445,000. The plan was to increase
births by around 8,000 per year to reach the target of a birth rate of 1.5. But
experts warn that with little impact perceived from the current measures,
the number of births could drop below what has been called the “Maginot
line” of 400,000. (Hankyoreh 2016).
The chauffeur was informed that there were no orders for the car the
following morning, as “Miss Parrett was suffering from neuralgia in
her face,” and also—though this was not mentioned in the bulletin—
a sharp pain in her temper.
Aurea, an early visitor, radiating gaiety, was on this occasion
unaccompanied by Mackenzie. Mackenzie, aged six years, was the
village tyrant and dictator. He also had been accustomed to consider
himself a dog of two houses—the Rectory and the Red Cottage; and
when the Red Cottage had moved to the Manor, and installed an
animal of low degree as its pet, he was naturally filled with wrath and
resentment, and on two opportunities the intruder had narrowly
escaped with many deep bites, and his life!
Aurea found her Aunt Bella trotting about the premises and
passages, with the knitted hood over her head, and key-basket in
hand.
“Not going out to-day!” she exclaimed; “but it’s lovely, Aunt Bella. The
air is so deliciously soft—it would do you no end of good.”
“My dear Aurea,” she piped, “I know you don’t allow any one in
Ottinge to call their soul their own, and I must ask you to leave me
my body, and to be the best judge of my ailments—and state of
health.”
“Oh, I beg your pardon, Aunt Bella; I meant no harm. Well, then, if
you are not going to use the car yourself, perhaps Susan and I could
take it over to Westmere? The Woolcocks have a large house-party,
and Joey and her husband are there.”
Miss Parrett closed her eyes tightly—a sure hoisting of the storm
cone—and screwed up her little old face till it resembled an over-ripe
cream cheese.
“Really, Aurea! I don’t know what the world is coming to! How dare
you propose such a thing! Take out my car for the first time without
me! But, of course, I know I’m only a cipher in my own house!”—an
almost hourly complaint.
“But do think of the chauffeur, Aunt Bella; is he to have nothing to
do?” Here this crafty girl touched a sensitive nerve—a responsive
key.
“Plenty for him to do; there’s enough work in the house for twenty
chauffeurs: unpacking the book boxes and china—never opened
since your grandfather’s death—staining the floors, and putting up
the curtains, and laying carpets. If you and Susan are going to settle
the drawing-room at last, he may help you. I can’t spare Jones or
Hogben from the garden.”
“Very well, we must have some one to lift the heavy things, and
stand on ladders. Where is he?”
“Outside in the hall, awaiting my orders,” replied Miss Parrett, with
magnificent dignity, folding her hands over what had once been a
neat waist, but now measured thirty inches.
Yes, the chauffeur was in the hall, cap in hand, attended by the
grateful Joss, and had overheard the foregoing conversation.
Miss Parrett came forth as she concluded her speech, and issued
her commands.
“Owen, you are to help my sister and Miss Morven in settling the
drawing-room. Be careful how you handle things, and don’t break
anything; and you may have your dinner here for to-day, with the
other servants.”
“Very good, ma’am,” he assented.
But with respect to dinner with the servants, it was really very bad.
He would be compelled to fence with the London cook, and keep her
and her civil proposals at arm’s length—no easy job!
From ten o’clock till half-past one, Wynyard spent an agreeable and
busy time in the service of Miss Susan and her niece. His boast to
his sister that he was “clever with his hands” was fully justified. He
hung the chintz and white curtains with the skill of an upholsterer, he
laid the dark blue felt on the floor, stretched it and nailed it neatly in
its place, whilst Aurea stood by, and gave directions, and sometimes
—such was her zeal—went down on her knees beside him, and
pulled and dragged too, exertions which enabled her associate to
realise the perfect curve of cheek and neck, and the faint perfume of
her glorious hair!
And all this time industrious Miss Susan sewed on rings, fitted loose
chintz covers, and talked incessantly. She did not appear to find the
presence of the chauffeur the slightest restraint—indeed, he was so
quiet and kept his personality so steadily in the background, that as
aunt and niece chatted and conferred, measured and altered, they
seemed to have entirely forgotten his existence, and as the old
drawing-room was full of nooks, angles, and deep windows, he was
not only out of mind, but also out of sight. Meanwhile, he enjoyed the
rôle of audience, especially in listening to Miss Aurea! What a gay,
light-hearted girl! And in her playful arguments with her aunt, he
realised the delightful camaraderie that existed between them. Her
chaff was so amusing that, although he was not included in the
conversation, he often felt inclined to echo Miss Susan’s appreciative
laugh. Never had he come across any one who had attracted him so
much; the more he saw of Miss Morven the more he admired her!
Possibly this was because for the last twelve months he had not
been brought in contact with a happy, high-spirited English girl—or
was it because in this out-of-the-world village he had met his fate?
As Wynyard hung curtains, and put in screws, he stole swift glances
at Miss Susan’s busy helper, noticed her slim elegance, her
infectious smile, and lovely face. It was a ridiculous, but absolutely
true fact, that to see a really beautiful, charming, and unaffected girl,
one must come to Ottinge-in-the-Marsh!
Meanwhile, as he worked in the background, he gathered up many
crumbs of conversation, and scraps of family and local news. He
learned that Mr. Morven’s great work on The Mithraic Heresy and Its
Oriental Origin was nearly complete, that the Manor cook had given
notice, and that no one had rented the fishing.
“The Woolcocks have a houseful at Westmere,” so said Miss Susan,
“and their staff of servants had recently enjoyed a sensational
turning out. Joey Waring and her husband are there, just back from
their winter trip.”
“And how is Joe?” inquired Aurea.
“Her hair is twice as fluffy, and she is louder, noisier, and talks ten
times more than ever!”
“Now, Susan, you know that is impossible!”
“Yes; Kathleen declares that you can hear her laugh as you pass the
park gates.”
“What! a whole mile away! She must have mistaken one of the
peacocks for Joey, and however loud she laughs and talks, she
never says an unkind word of any one.”
“No, a good, kind little soul! but I wonder Captain Waring can stand
her, and her chatter does not drive him crazy.”
“On the contrary, he adores her, and is enormously proud of her flow
of animation and conversation. You see, he is so silent himself, Joey
is his antithesis; and Joey is worshipped at home, for in a family of
large, heavy, silent people, a little gabbling creature is appreciated.
Tell me about Kathleen.”
“Oh, Kathleen is, as usual, very busy and cheery; she has three new
boarders—hungry and quarrelsome.”
“And he?”
“Just as usual too, dear. You know he never can be better.”
“But he may grow worse!”
“Oh, don’t speak of such a thing! Think of Kathleen.”
“Yes; and I think Kathleen is a saint—so brave and unselfish. Now,
where shall we put the old Palairet mirrors?”
“You had better consult your Aunt Bella.”
“My dear, good Susan!” (This was the style in which she addressed
her relative.) “Don’t you know your own sister by this time? She has
been here nearly seven months, and you are not half settled yet—
only bedrooms and dining-room—and I have undertaken to help you
finish off in three days.”
“Yes, but that’s nonsense, though I must say you’ve worked miracles
this morning—curtains, covers, carpet; but there was no question of
where they had to go. As to pictures, mirrors, and cabinets, it will
take your aunt a twelvemonth to decide how to place them.”
“I shall decide, and place them to-day,” rejoined the girl, with calm
decision; “if I ask Aunt Bella, they will be tried on every wall, till our
backs are broken, and then taken down after all. The round glass
between the windows,”—looking about and speaking with authority
—“the other over the mantelpiece, the Chinese cabinet in that niche
—they are just made for one another—the Charles the First black
bureau from the schoolroom just here, and the screen from her
bedroom by the door.”
“My dear child, you”—and she broke into a laugh—“you wouldn’t
dare!”
“Would I not? Just wait and see. The room is charming, and when it’s
finished Auntie B. will be enchanted! You may leave her to me. Oh,”
in another tone to Wynyard, who had come forward in search of
some wire, “you have worked well. It must be your dinner-hour. We
shall be ready to start again at half-past two o’clock, and then the
parlour-maid will help you with the furniture.”
“Very well, miss,” he answered.
As Aurea walked off, followed by Miss Susan, Wynyard the imposter
assured himself that Miss Morven was quicker witted than her aunts.
He had noticed her expression of keen attention as he discussed a
matter of a curtain pole with her relative, and it was quite possible
that she already had an inkling of the truth! He must be careful and
wary not to give himself away or utter a word beyond “Yes, miss,”
and “No, miss.” He was already attending closely to the speech of
Tom Hogben, and had marked the scantiness and laziness of his
vocabulary; how he never said more than he could help, and used
the words, “Sure-ly,” and “I dunno,” and “ye see,” and “’ee” for “he,”
and “I be” for “I am,” and resolved to imitate him.
The meal in the servants’ hall proved an even more trying ordeal
than he anticipated, and was altogether so disagreeable to the new
chauffeur that, sooner than face it again, he determined to fast.
The London cook (Miss Hicks) and four maids were present, also the
boot-boy—a clumsy yokel, who was in terrified attendance. Owen
sat on Miss Hicks’ right hand, and received all her attention, the best
helpings, and daintiest morsels of a solid and satisfying meal.
She would scarcely suffer the other servants to address him, though
the rosy-cheeked parlour-maid made bold and even desperate
attempts. She plied him with questions, compliments, and
information. For his part, he proved a disappointing guest, and did
not afford Miss Hicks much satisfaction; she came to the conclusion
that in spite of his fine figure and good looks the chauffeur was a dull
sort of chap, and terribly backward at taking a hint. When she
nudged him with her elbow, and pressed his foot under the table,
there was no response—in fact, he moved a bit away! However, she
laid the flattering unction to her soul that the poor fellow was shy. He
was duly favoured with the cook’s candid opinion of the place and
their employers, namely, that Miss P. was an old terror, was a
shocking one for running after lords and ladies, and talking grand,
yet that mean and sneaking she would frighten you! She and Miss
Norris, housekeeper at the Rectory, were cuts, only for the Rector;
anyway, Norris never came to the Manor. Miss Susan was a lady, but
a giddy old thing, so fond of gadding and amusement, and laws!
what a one to talk! As for Miss Aurea——
No, he could not sit by and hear Miss Aurea dissected, and with an
excuse that he wanted to have a pipe before he went back to his job,
the chauffeur pushed away his unfinished cheese, and with a civil
farewell took his departure.
The afternoon was a busy one: the mirrors were put up, pictures
were hung, but with many incursions and interruptions from Miss
Parrett. Joss, the dog, was also in and out, and seemed inclined to
attach himself to Wynyard.
Miss Parrett, still hooded, sat upright in an arm-chair, offering
irritating criticisms, and quarrelling vigorously as to the position of
pictures and articles of furniture; the old lady was altogether
extremely troublesome and argumentative, and gave double work.
Thoroughly alive to the fact that her niece had good taste, she was
jealous of her activities, and yet wished to see the old rooms
arranged to the best advantage—as the result would redound to her
personal credit.
It was an immense relief to the three harassed workers when the
parlour-maid entered and announced—
“If you please, Miss Parrett, Lady Mary Cooper has called, and I’ve
shown her into the study.”
“You mean the library,” corrected her mistress. “Say I’m coming;” and
she trotted over to a glass, removed her hood, and called upon
Aurea to arrange her cap.
“Time Lady Mary did call!” she grumbled. “We are here seven
months.”
“She has been abroad,” said Susan; “and, anyway, she’s not much
of a visitor.”
“Well, she is our own cousin, at any rate.”
“Our cousin—Lady Mary!” repeated Miss Susan. “I do declare, Bella,
you have a craze for cousins. Why, we scarcely know the woman!”
“Now, Susan, don’t argue! She is our relative; her great-great-aunt
married a Davenant, and I suppose you will allow that they are our
kin? I have no time to explain now;” and she pattered off,
abandoning the workers to their own devices.
“Your Aunt Bella is so funny about relations! People I’ve never heard
of she will say are our own cousins.”
“Yes, to the tenth generation,” agreed Aurea, “if they are well born.
Aunt Bella has pedigree on the brain—for myself, I think it a bore.”
It was strange that Miss Parrett, who, on her mother’s side, was the
granddaughter of a rough Hoogly pilot, should be as haughty and
exclusive as if she were an Austrian princess. In the neighbourhood
it had become a well-established joke that, if any one of importance
and old family was mentioned before Miss Parrett, she was almost
sure to announce—
“Oh, I don’t know much about them personally, but they are our
cousins!”
By six o’clock the task of arranging the drawing-room was
completed. Wynyard had been assisted by the rosy-cheeked maid in
bringing tables, cabinets, and china from other rooms, and they
really had, as Miss Susan declared, “worked like blacks.”
“It is a dear old room!” said Aurea, surveying the apartment with
unconcealed complacency. “When the bowls are filled with flowers,
and we have a bridge table, and a jigsaw puzzle, we shall be perfect
—old-fashioned, and in the fashion.”
“Glad you think so!” said a little bleating voice in the doorway. “Lady
Mary asked for you, Susan, and I told her you were out, or she’d
have wanted to come poking in here. So”—looking about—“you’ve
brought the black cabinet out of the schoolroom! Who gave you
leave to do that? And”—she threw out a quivering forefinger—“the
blue china bowls from the spare room, and my screen! You take too
much upon yourself, Aurea Morven! You should have consulted me.
I am tired of telling you that I will not be a cipher in my own house!”
Aurea coloured vividly. Did her aunt forget that the chauffeur was
present? Really, Aunt Bella was too bad. She glanced at the young
man, who was standing on the steps straightening a picture;
apparently he was absorbed in his task, and to all appearances had
not heard the recent conversation.
“Oh, I’m so sorry you don’t like the room, Aunt Bella!” said Aurea,
seating herself in a high old chair, crossing her neat feet, and folding
her hands.
“Sorry!”—and Miss Parrett sniffed—“that’s what you always say!”
“Now, my dear, please don’t be so cross,” she replied, unabashed;
“you know, in your heart, you are delighted, and as proud of this
drawing-room as a peacock with two tails.”
“Aurea!” shrieked her aunt.
“You have been here seven months, and you’ve not a single place in
which to receive visitors. Look, now, at Lady Mary—you had her in
the musty old study—and why?”—waving an interrogative hand
—“simply because for months you could not make up your mind
about the arrangement of this room. All the county have called—the
first calls—and carried off the first impressions. None of your lovely
old things were to be seen, but waiting to be settled.”
“Aurea, I will not suffer——”
“Please do let me finish, dear. Before I left, you may remember how
you and I talked it all over—cabinets, china, sofas—and settled
exactly where everything was to fit. I come back at the end of a
month and I find nothing done; so I’ve made up my mind to work
here for several days. I’ve asked the padré to spare me. This room is
finished, and looks extremely nice; the next I take in hand will be the
den! Now, as it’s after six o’clock, I’m afraid I must be off;” and she
arose, stooped down, and kissed her aunt on the forehead, adding—
“Of course I know, dear, that you are immensely obliged to me, and
so you need not say anything. Good-bye—good-bye, Susie,” waving
her hand, and she was gone, leaving Miss Parrett in the middle of
the room temporarily speechless.
“Well—up—on my word!” and she took a long breath.
“After all, Bella, Aurea has made the room perfectly charming,” said
Miss Susan, with unusual courage. “It’s the prettiest in the whole
neighbourhood; the old things never were half seen before. She
sewed the curtains herself, and, until to-day, we’ve never had any
decent place to ask visitors to sit down in.”
“Oh yes, it’s all very well, but if she hadn’t my nice old things to work
with, she couldn’t have made up such a room. Yes, I’m always just—
every one says my sense of justice is my strong point—and I admit
that she helped; what I object to is Aurea’s way—her way,” she
repeated, “of just doing exactly whatever she chooses, and smiling in
your face. She leads the whole of Ottinge by the nose, from the
parson, her father, down to Crazy Billy.” And Wynyard, who was
listening to this declaration, told himself that he was not surprised.
Miss Parrett was not particularly attached to her niece, although she
was by no means indifferent to her fascinating personality, and a
sunny face that brought light and gaiety into the house; but this
wizened old woman of seventy-four grudged the girl her youth, and
was animated by the natural antagonism of one who has lived,
towards one who has life before her!
CHAPTER XI
THE TRIAL TRIP