Japan recorded fewer than 700,000 births in 2024 for the first time in its modern history, a grim milestone that arrived years earlier than government projections had anticipated. The figure, which fell below the psychologically significant threshold that policymakers had hoped to avoid until at least 2035, has intensified debate over whether the country’s ambitious countermeasures can reverse — or even slow — a population decline that threatens to fundamentally alter Japan’s economic and social fabric.
According to The Japan News, the Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare estimated that the number of births in 2024 would fall to approximately 696,000, a decline of roughly 5% from the previous year’s already-record-low figure of about 727,000. The total fertility rate — the average number of children a woman is expected to have in her lifetime — has continued its downward trajectory, hovering around 1.20, far below the 2.1 replacement level needed to maintain a stable population without immigration.
A Milestone That Arrived a Decade Too Soon
The speed of the decline has caught even pessimistic forecasters off guard. Japan’s National Institute of Population and Social Security Research had projected in 2023 that births would not fall below 700,000 until around 2035. Reaching that level in 2024 — more than a decade ahead of schedule — suggests that the structural forces driving the decline are more powerful than official models had assumed. Deaths in Japan, meanwhile, continue to climb as the population ages, with approximately 1.6 million people dying in 2024. The resulting natural population decrease of roughly 900,000 is equivalent to losing a mid-sized city every single year.
Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba, who took office in October 2024, has described the situation as a national emergency. His predecessor, Fumio Kishida, had similarly declared that Japan was “on the verge of whether we can continue to function as a society” and unveiled a package of childcare subsidies, expanded parental leave provisions, and financial incentives for families with multiple children. Yet the birth numbers continued to fall, raising pointed questions about whether financial support alone can address what is increasingly understood as a cultural and structural problem.
The Economics of Not Having Children
The reasons behind Japan’s demographic collapse are multifaceted and deeply intertwined with economic conditions that have persisted for decades. Stagnant wages, particularly for younger workers, have made the prospect of raising children financially daunting. The cost of housing in Tokyo and other major metropolitan areas continues to rise, while the expectation that mothers will shoulder the majority of childcare responsibilities discourages many women from having children — or from having more than one. A 2024 survey by the Cabinet Office found that economic anxiety was the most commonly cited reason among young couples for not having their desired number of children.
Japan’s labor market, despite recent reforms, still penalizes workers — especially women — who step away from full-time employment. The country’s notorious long-working-hours culture leaves little time for family life, and while paternity leave policies have been expanded on paper, actual take-up rates among men remain stubbornly low. According to government data, only about 30% of eligible fathers took paternity leave in fiscal year 2023, up from single digits a decade ago but still far from the norm in Scandinavian countries where birth rates, while also declining, remain higher.
Marriage Rates Tell a Deeper Story
Perhaps the most significant upstream factor is the decline in marriage. In Japan, births outside of marriage account for less than 3% of the total — one of the lowest rates among developed nations. This means that the marriage rate effectively functions as a ceiling on the birth rate. And that ceiling is dropping fast. The number of marriages in 2024 fell to approximately 474,000, according to The Japan News, a sharp decline from the roughly 504,000 recorded in 2023. The COVID-19 pandemic disrupted social interactions and dating for several years, and the rebound that some demographers had expected has failed to materialize in a meaningful way.
Young Japanese adults are increasingly reporting a lack of interest in romantic relationships altogether. A widely cited survey by the National Institute of Population and Social Security Research found that roughly one in four men and one in six women in their 30s had never been in a romantic relationship. Sociologists point to a combination of factors: the rise of digital entertainment and social media as substitutes for in-person connection, growing economic precarity among young men that makes them feel inadequate as potential partners in a society that still largely expects men to be primary breadwinners, and a generational shift in values that places greater emphasis on personal freedom and self-fulfillment.
Government Countermeasures Face Skepticism
The Japanese government’s response has been substantial in financial terms. In 2023, the Kishida administration announced a plan to roughly double child-related spending to approximately ¥3.6 trillion ($24 billion) annually by the mid-2020s. Measures include increased child allowances — now extended to all children regardless of household income — subsidized childcare, and efforts to expand after-school programs. The government has also moved to reduce the financial burden of childbirth by covering delivery costs under the national health insurance system.
Yet demographers and economists remain deeply skeptical that these measures will move the needle. Countries across East Asia — South Korea, Taiwan, and China among them — have implemented similar or even more generous financial incentives with little discernible impact on birth rates. South Korea’s total fertility rate fell to a staggering 0.72 in 2023, the lowest in the world, despite billions of dollars in government spending on pro-natalist policies. The pattern suggests that once birth rates fall below a certain threshold, a self-reinforcing cycle takes hold: smaller cohorts of young people mean fewer potential parents, and social norms adjust to smaller family sizes, making the decline extremely difficult to reverse.
Immigration: The Policy Japan Has Long Avoided
Faced with the arithmetic reality of population decline, Japan has begun — cautiously and somewhat reluctantly — to open its doors to foreign workers. In 2024, the government expanded its Specified Skilled Worker visa program, raising the cap on admissions and adding new eligible sectors. The number of foreign residents in Japan reached a record high of over 3.4 million in mid-2024, up significantly from about 2.9 million just two years earlier. Yet foreign residents still account for less than 3% of the total population, a fraction of the levels seen in other advanced economies.
The political sensitivity of immigration in Japan cannot be overstated. Public opinion surveys consistently show ambivalence: a majority of Japanese citizens acknowledge the economic necessity of foreign workers, but significant portions express concern about cultural cohesion, public safety, and the strain on social services. The government has framed its immigration expansion not as permanent settlement but as a temporary labor solution, though many foreign workers are in practice building lives in Japan and bringing their families. The gap between official rhetoric and on-the-ground reality is widening, and policymakers will eventually need to confront the question of whether Japan is willing to become a genuinely multicultural society.
Economic Implications That Extend Beyond Japan’s Borders
The macroeconomic consequences of Japan’s population decline are already visible. Labor shortages are acute in sectors ranging from healthcare and construction to logistics and agriculture. The Bank of Japan has noted that demographic constraints are contributing to wage pressures that, paradoxically, are helping to end decades of deflation — but at the cost of reduced productive capacity. Japan’s potential GDP growth rate has been revised downward repeatedly, and without significant gains in productivity or immigration, the economy faces the prospect of sustained contraction in real terms on a per-capita basis.
For global markets, Japan’s demographic trajectory serves as both a warning and a case study. The country’s experience with aging — including its impact on government debt, healthcare spending, pension sustainability, and consumer demand — offers a preview of challenges that will confront much of Europe, China, and eventually other parts of Asia in the coming decades. Japan’s government debt already exceeds 250% of GDP, the highest among developed nations, and the fiscal pressures of supporting an ever-larger elderly population with an ever-smaller working-age base are intensifying.
A Society Adapting to Fewer People
Beyond the macroeconomic data, the effects of depopulation are reshaping daily life in Japan. Rural communities are hollowing out as young people migrate to cities in search of employment. Schools are closing at an accelerating rate — hundreds have shut their doors in recent years due to insufficient enrollment. Local governments in depopulated areas are struggling to maintain basic infrastructure, from roads and bridges to water systems. Some municipalities have begun offering free housing and financial incentives to attract young families, with mixed results.
In cities, the effects are more subtle but no less profound. The real estate market is bifurcating: properties in central Tokyo continue to appreciate, while homes in suburban and rural areas are becoming effectively worthless, with millions of abandoned houses — known as akiya — dotting the countryside. The eldercare sector faces a projected shortfall of hundreds of thousands of workers by 2040, prompting investments in robotics and assistive technology that may eventually be exported to other aging societies.
What Comes Next for the World’s Oldest Society
Japan stands at a demographic inflection point that will define its trajectory for generations. The government’s stated goal of reversing the birth rate decline remains, by most expert assessments, aspirational rather than achievable in the near term. More realistic objectives may involve managing the decline — investing in automation, selectively expanding immigration, restructuring social safety nets, and finding ways to maintain quality of life and economic competitiveness with a smaller population.
The question is not whether Japan will have fewer people in the decades ahead — that outcome is already demographically locked in. The question is whether the country can adapt its institutions, economy, and society quickly enough to avoid the most severe consequences. With births now falling below 700,000 a year, the window for gradual adjustment is narrowing. Japan’s response — or failure to respond adequately — will offer lessons for every nation grappling with the same forces of aging and demographic decline that are quietly reshaping the 21st century.