The Beijing Olympics has refocused world attention again on China’s coercive “one-family, one-child” policy. Instituted thirty years ago in a desperate bid to slow China’s burgeoning population, the policy has been widely condemned as an abuse of human rights. But lower fertility rates have contributed, no doubt, to China’s economic miracle, just as they have in other East Asian countries like Japan and South Korea.  It’s difficult to conceive that standards of living in China would be what they are today if fertility rates had remained at or near their historic rates.

Still, despite China’s booming economy, the “one-family, one-child” policy remains highly controversial.  Critics have charged, among other things, that the policy would be harmful to the children.  The July/August issue of Psychology Today takes a new look at the issue (“Plight of the Little Emperors”). The article notes that: 

When China began limiting couples to one child 30 years ago, the policy's most obvious goal was to contain a mushrooming population. For the Chinese people, however, the policy's greater purpose was to turn out a group of young elites who would each enjoy the undivided resources of their whole family—the so-called xiao huangdi, or "little emperors." The plan was to "produce a generation of high-quality children to facilitate China's introduction as a global power," explains Susan Greenhalgh, an expert on the policy. But while these well-educated, driven achievers are fueling the nation's economic boom, their generation has become too modern too quickly, glutted as it is with televisions, access to computers, cash to buy name brands, and the same expectations of middle-class success as Western kids.

Without question, the policy puts extraordinary pressures on the children.  As the article points out:

"In this generation, every child is raised to be at the top," says Vanessa Fong, a Harvard education professor and author of Only Hope: Coming of Age under China's One-Child Policy. "They've worked hard for it, and it's what their parents have focused their lives on. But the problem is that the country can't provide the lifestyle they feel they deserve. Only a few will get it." China's accomplished young elites are celebrated on billboards as the vanguard of the nation, yet they're quickly becoming victims of their own lofty expectations.

Still, the article finds that the psychological harm that flows from being an only child might not be as great as critics claim:

Yet despite the stereotype, the research has revealed no evidence that only kids have more negative traits than their peers with siblings—in China or anywhere else. "The only way only children are reliably different from others is they score slightly higher in academic achievement," explains Toni Falbo, a University of Texas psychology professor who has gathered data on more than 4,000 Chinese only kids. Sure, some little emperors are bratty, but no more than children with siblings.

The biggest problem, perhaps, is that China’s colleges and universities, with the anxious backing of the parents, are cranking out more graduates than the economy can currently absorb:

The number of Chinese college graduates per year has nearly tripled in the last half-decade—from 1.5 million in 2002 to 4.1 million in 2007—which means more than 2 million grads a year end up with expensive diplomas, but no job. With so few top positions available and so many seekers, urban only children must study constantly just to have a shot.

A few months back it suddenly looked like China might change its “one-family, one-child” policy after a high-level Communist Party official said the government was reviewing the policy.  Just as suddenly, a more senior government official squashed the rumor, insisting that no change is anticipated. In the wake of the horrible Sichuan earthquake, the government dropped its "one-child" policy for the parents of children who died or who were disabled or seriously injured.

The great unknown, however, is what would happen to China’s fertility rate if the “one-child” limit was lifted or relaxed for everyone. While there would be some inevitable increase in birth rates, fertility rates might not rise that much.  The total fertility rate in China today ( 1.6) is actually higher than in South Korea (1.1) and Japan (1.3), and only slightly lower than Mongolia’s TFR (2.0). Almost certainly, China's fertility rate would have dropped significantly over the past thirty years, with or without government sanction, as it did in other parts of East Asia.