We two, our two, our TFR on two

That census found that the average age of marriage for illiterate Indian women was about 16 years and six months. Let that sink in for a moment: 16.5 years to her marriage. That young

It was also found that primary school-going women were married not on average at sixteen and a half, but about three months after the age of 17. Still, going to primary school adds about nine months to the average age at which an Indian woman is married.

Here’s what I suggest you consider: Attending only nine-month slices from her childbearing years in elementary school. She is a less likely child that a woman can give birth to.

What if she raises her vision a bit? If an Indian woman earns a college degree, on average, she gets married in about 21 years 8 months. This is more than five years later than her illiterate female compatriots. That’s about seven possible pregnancies.

Now, you can undoubtedly choose this data. For example, surely these numbers have changed since the 1981 census? Does a woman really start having children soon after marriage? Does reproduction only happen during marriage? Still, can we really take them for granted and even though the numbers are dated, these aren’t particularly important details here. Instead, think for a moment about educating women in this crude way: as an effective means of shortening the period during which they can have children. And therefore, an effective way to put the brakes on population growth.

That’s the lesson in that nugget from the 1981 census.

Why is it relevant today? Because of something called the Total Fertility Rate (TFR) – the average number of children born in a woman’s lifetime. TFR is directly related to population growth – the higher the TFR of a country, the faster its population grows. Worldwide, wealthier, more “developed” countries have lower TFRs; Poor countries have high TFR. This is why the “natural” growth of population in rich countries – children, not immigration – is slower than in poor countries.

Population control mechanisms, where they are installed, aim to reduce the TFR to 2. That is the “replacement level” – because each pair that produces children replaces itself. No more, no less. Theoretically, if a country’s TFR is 2 and there is no immigration, its population will not change. In practice, the replacement level is usually thought of as a TFR of around 2.1 – as some babies die.

All this is relevant because India’s TFR, which has been declining steadily over the years, has recently reached 2. If this is true, then our population growth will soon stop. Actually, our population Will start falling soon.

Shivam Vij points to this development and comments in an article about our TFR: “It’s a mystery why we’re not celebrating this historic moment.” After all, “we do our two” (often translated as “we two, our two”) has been our family planning mantra for decades. Pictured on Tamil Nadu auto-rickshaws, you’ll also find a modified version: “Hum Do, Our Ek.”

So, since we’ve finally reached this TFR milestone, Vij asks: “Why aren’t we celebrating more?”

I cannot answer this. But maybe it’s something to think about.

Like any data about a large country like India, quoting only the overall TFR is misleading and hides a more nuanced picture. As an example, Vij said, there are large northern states (Bihar, Jharkhand, UP) whose TFR remains above 2 – Bihar’s is closer to 3 and will not sink to 2 for at least 15 years. This speaks to the long-standing grievance of the southern states – they have worked hard on slowing population growth, but the north has not. Nevertheless, if we modify the parliamentary representation to better reflect our population distribution, the northern states will get a higher share of seats purely because they now have a higher share of the population than they did a few decades ago. . Namely, such an exercise would actually reward their apathy towards slowing their population growth. To which northern states may respond: “Yes, but democracy means one woman one vote” – perfectly reasonable – “therefore, what we are asking for is our fair share.”

You can consider it all, debate it to the extent you want. I will point out that when we talk about children born to a woman “through her life,” we effectively mean the period during which she can have children. Let’s say it’s about 30 years old, which means puberty at 15 and menopause at 45. Educating women only through college reduces that period to 6 years, which is a factor in lowering the TFR without taking into account all the other reasons for educating women.

Still, there are some fascinating, even serious, effects of lowering our TFRs. Data journalist Rukmini S. mentions a few in her excellent book Whole Numbers and Half Truths.

For an example, the average Indian woman now has her first child two years earlier than in 1950. (So ​​much for deducting those early years from the time your child was born.) Why is this a surprising phenomenon? Note that when TFR was higher than it is today, women continued to have children late into their childbearing period, often even into their forties. Thus the large families of that time. But as the TFR fell and the family size decreased as a result, “the average Indian woman was wiped out”.[d] She had children much earlier than before.” The effect is that Indian women “still have relatively small children – they stop having more children sooner.”

For another, the declining TFR means that we can see that the growth in annual births in India is slowing down. But there’s a troubling side to that bald fact: “The recession is faster for girl children than it is for boys.” i.e., even though increased education levels serve to reduce TFRs, it does not seem to have much of an effect on them. The “intensity of preference for male children” is what we in India have always known. (To be fair, in many other societies as well.)

In families with only two children – the embodiment of that long-sought TFR level – half are a boy and a girl, which suggests a simple possibility. But it also suggests that the remaining half should be divided equally between two-girl and two-boy families, or a quarter each. In fact, one-third have two boys while one-sixth have two girls.

In fact, writes Rukmini, “a decline in fertility”. [contributes significantly to] The recent increase in India’s sex ratio in favor of boys.”

So, do we celebrate this TFR milestone? Your phone.

Dilip D’Souza, once a computer scientist, now lives in Mumbai and writes for his dinner. His Twitter handle is @DeathEndsFun. Is

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