Young couples moved through a packed exhibition hall in Seoul earlier this year, testing baby strollers, fastening infant car seats and comparing new designs for baby carriers, offering a rare snapshot of optimism in a country better known for warnings about demographic decline.
The January event stood in contrast to years of bleak headlines about South Korea’s falling birth rate and mounting fears that population decline could strain the economy and social welfare system, echoing similar concerns across Japan and China.
Yet recent data suggests a modest shift. After years of steady decline, South Korea has recorded a gradual increase in births for more than a year, offering cautious encouragement to policymakers who have spent billions of dollars trying to reverse the trend.
Whether the improvement marks a lasting turnaround remains uncertain.
Visitors at the baby fair acknowledged a wide range of government measures, including financial incentives and expanded parental benefits. Still, many described the challenges of raising children in a society shaped by rising living costs, demanding work schedules, entrenched gender expectations and conservative social attitudes.
“Once I became pregnant, I left my job,” said Yun So-yeon, 31, who is expecting her first child in March. She said the decision felt unavoidable. “There isn’t enough support at most workplaces. When someone becomes pregnant, they usually end up quitting.”
Another attendee, Park Ha-yan, 34, a stay-at-home mother expecting her third child in June, said finances were the defining issue.
“In the end, it’s about money,” she said. “Government support increases as you have more children, but the costs also rise. And those expenses don’t stop after a year or two — they last until the children grow up, which makes it a heavy burden.”
Demography experts warn against reading too much into the recent increase.
“We are seeing some recovery,” said Sojung Lim, Korea Foundation Professor of Korean Studies at the State University of New York at Buffalo. “But the numbers have not returned to pre-pandemic levels. South Korea still has the lowest fertility rate among advanced economies.”
The country’s fertility rate — the average number of children a woman is expected to have in her lifetime — has declined steadily since 2015 and remains the lowest recorded globally.
A fertility rate of 2.1 is generally required to maintain a stable population without immigration. By 2023, South Korea’s rate had fallen to 0.721, intensifying alarm among officials. Former President Yoon Suk Yeol previously described the situation as a “national emergency.”
In 2024, however, the fertility rate rose for the first time in nine years, edging up to 0.748. Although the increase was small, it sparked renewed discussion about whether the country may be nearing a turning point.
Government figures released in January showed year-on-year growth in monthly births for 17 consecutive months. Each month recorded more births than the same month a year earlier, raising the possibility of a second year of overall improvement.
Several factors may explain the change, Lim said.
Many couples postponed marriage and childbirth during the Covid-19 pandemic. Because single or unmarried motherhood remains uncommon in South Korea, fewer marriages typically lead directly to fewer births. As restrictions eased, those delayed plans may now be moving forward, creating a post-pandemic “catch-up effect,” Lim said.
Demographics may also be playing a role. The children of the baby boomer generation form a relatively large cohort, meaning more women are now in their early to mid-30s — traditionally the peak years for marriage and childbearing.
Park, the expectant mother of three, offered another explanation. She has observed that many pregnancies involve second or third children rather than first births. “After raising one child, some parents feel it’s better for their child to grow up with a sibling,” she said.
Government policy has also been a major factor. Over the past decade, authorities have rolled out housing subsidies, childcare support, cash payments for new parents, longer maternity and paternity leave, public campaigns encouraging men to share domestic responsibilities, and even matchmaking programs aimed at increasing marriage rates. Companies have been urged to improve work-life balance.
Some parents say the impact is noticeable.
“Compared to about 10 years ago, workplace attitudes have changed,” said Kim, a 30-year-old expectant mother who asked to be identified only by her surname for privacy. “Companies are now more aware of benefits they are required to provide.”
“In the past, managers — mostly middle-aged men — didn’t really understand parental leave,” she said. “Now the attitude is more like, ‘Of course you should take it,’ which has eased the pressure somewhat.”
Under South Korean law, mothers are entitled to up to 90 days of maternity leave for uncomplicated births, while fathers receive 20 days of paternity leave. In practice, however, mothers still take the vast majority of parental leave.
Another expectant mother, Park Hae-in, said government initiatives influenced her decision to have another child.
“I could see the government trying in many different ways,” she said. “Support for housing moves and similar policies made me feel more positive about planning a second child.”
Despite these developments, many parents remain anxious about deeper structural challenges.
“There are grants, allowances and diaper programs, but they often don’t reflect my real financial situation,” Park Hae-in said. “Even with newborn loans, there are many restrictions.”
Kim Seon-kyeong, 34, who is also expecting, said most incentives focus on lower-income households, while middle- and higher-income families still struggle with soaring childcare costs.
In 2024, South Korea ranked as the most expensive country in the world to raise children, according to the Beijing-based YuWa Population Research Institute. A major driver of those costs is private education.
The country’s intensely competitive education system places pressure on parents to invest in tutoring from an early age, leading to years of expensive after-school classes and exam preparation.
Cultural attitudes add another layer of difficulty.
Yun, who left her job after becoming pregnant, said public spaces can feel unwelcoming to children. Mothers may receive disapproving looks when babies cry, she said.
“Caring for a baby already takes so much energy,” she said. “But when you go outside, people seem uncomfortable, so you’re constantly cautious and holding back because of the baby.”
At home, she added, caregiving responsibilities often fall unevenly. “When your husband comes back exhausted from work, you end up handling most of the childcare yourself.”
In recent years, businesses such as restaurants and cafes have increasingly designated themselves as “no-kids zones,” a trend that has sparked controversy among parents who say it reinforces exclusion.
Lim also questioned whether current government policies can overcome entrenched social norms, including traditional views on family structure. For example, single women are not eligible for in vitro fertilization treatment in South Korea.
“If these deeper structural issues are the real causes of ultra-low fertility, then do these policies really solve the problem?” Lim said. “I don’t think they do.”
Without broader social change, she warned, the recent increase in births may prove temporary. The wave of post-pandemic marriages will eventually pass, the large cohort of women now in their 30s will age, and fertility rates could begin falling again.
Countries facing similar population declines are closely watching South Korea’s experience. Beyond East Asia, nations such as Italy, Spain and the United States have also recorded declining birth rates, making South Korea’s policies a point of global interest.
“The lesson is not that births increased for 17 months,” Lim said. “It’s understanding why fertility fell so sharply in the first place.”
“Once a country realizes fertility is declining rapidly,” she added, “it may already be too late.”