imes are changing and families are evolving
　　“二胎”政策、家庭“主夫”、人口老齡化
　　说一说中国的“家”事
　　The family unit is changing， transforming in ways that would have been impossible just a decade ago， but as China adapts， it faces new challenges that hit very close to home. The recent two-child policy bombshell still has people reeling， and it will continue to do so even after it goes into effect in 2016. For prospective parents， however， there is really only one question that needs answering： should we？ Before this change was the swapping of traditional gender roles， a household with a woman in charge， and while this would have been nearly unthinkable to many traditionalists just a short time ago， pragmatism is succeeding where convention has failed. But the story of family isn’t just marriage， money， and the pitter-patter of little feet; the elderly are often left out of the great conversation on the modern family. as China ages， that situation will need to change very soon.
　　Double Trouble
　　China’s two-child policy sent ripples through society， but questions remain
　　- David Dawson
　　On October 29， 2015， what at first glance seemed like a minor announcement instead heralded the end of the Communist Party of China’s one-child policy.
　　The policy had existed for so long public reactions ran the gamut from exuberance to outrage， though it was partly muted by the fact that it was not really the end of the policy， rather a modification， which took effect on January 1， 2016.
　　The one-child policy may have perished， but the two-child policy has been born.
　　It is obvious why the policy was removed. Demographic problems relating to an aging population are the likeliest culprit， with the Chinese government understandably fearful of the implications of a dwindling workforce.
　　But it would seem that the policy met with a lukewarm response and will not result in any instant baby boom. This was perhaps foreseeable given the fact that the government had already instituted a number of exemptions to the policy allowing certain couples （such as in specific areas， or in cases where both parents were an only-child， or for ethnic minorities） to have a second child， but in many cases there had been little interest in taking advantage of them.
　　This is borne out by the figures—a UN working group released a report in October 2015 which tracked the rates of births across China in relation to the exemption for couples who are both a single-child. 　　“As of June 2014， six months after the new policy was initiated， about 270，000 couples had applied for approval to have a second birth. This represents about 2.5 percent of the estimated 11 million eligible couples， far below all the projections made before the policy change，” the report said， before coming to a fairly grim conclusion for Chinese authorities：
　　“With its weak response to the government’s partial relaxation of the one-child policy， the Chinese public has conveyed a clear message： it is too costly to have children. Studies of the preferred number of children among Chinese couples all portray a similar picture. The mean number of desired children is well below the replacement level， suggesting that even if the government’s birth-control policy were completely dismantled， fertility would increase only modestly.”
　　This does raise the question as to why a two-child policy is still planned. Critics of family planning policies say it is likely because of the many people employed by the family planning bureaucracy， estimated to be in the hundreds of thousands， who would lose their jobs. But the deputy head of the family planning department， Wang Pei’an， has told media that the department should not only continue to exist but be strengthened in order to function as a department that helps people have children responsibly.
　　“It’s actually more work， so we need this team to be stronger， instead of cutting it，” he said at a press conference.
　　This， however， did not clarify exactly why parents would still be restricted to two children. Ostensibly， it is because the government is wary of any sudden population booms， but at this point that risk seems exceedingly unlikely. Xinhua declared in December 2015 that China would provide “better family planning services” after a meeting of top leaders but did not provide specifics on how the services would be improved， aside from stating that the meeting “called for improved birth registration， coordinated policies concerning education， social security， employment， and appropriately distributing public services resources.”
　　That is not to say the announcement has not caused booms of any kind at all. The announcement of the two-child policy provided a healthy bump for stocks in companies that sell baby formula. In New Zealand， it came as welcome news after prices were depressed due to overestimated demand from China， based on previous instances of high consumption.
　　This was but one ripple among many that have spread through society in the wake of this change. Commentators have weighed in on whether the new policy could help fill China’s many empty apartments and drive real estate purchases， but most responded with a half-hearted “probably not”. 　　Bloomberg reported on the possibility that the two-child policy could limit career prospects for young women， who may be pressured by extended family to prioritize having a second child over their career. Certainly， a preference for males in job ads is common， and young female job applicants are often asked about when they plan to have children， with managers wary of the possibility they plan to take maternity leave.
　　Media reports even explored the implications for sperm banks. A nationwide shortage of sperm donors has already been causing acute problems in this area， and the All China Women’s Federation， citing a report in the Jiangxi Daily， said in November 2015 that some staff at sperm banks were reporting higher numbers of infertile couples asking about having a second child.
　　Then there is also the crucial issue of whether the two-child policy will help alleviate China’s excess number of males being born， recently estimated at around 116 boys for every 100 girls. Having two children may encourage parents not to abort female girls， as they still have the chance to have a male—a more prized gender， particularly in traditionally-minded families.
　　There are still questions over enforcement of the policy itself， which has caused headaches for family planning departments all over the country， as they question whether to punish births in violation of the one-child policy before the two-child policy takes effect. Although authorities have recently clarified that the policy will take effect as of January， this was a delayed announcement after the initial decision， and for months there was widespread uncertainty. For local family planning authorities， specifics were often few and far between， and they had to play a guessing game in terms of who to punish， and when. Now they must wait and see： Will China have many more babies？
　　Stay at Home Dads
　　Eschewing tradition， some dads put their kids before their wallets
　　-Liu Sha （劉莎）
　　Yisheng （pseudonym）， 35， recently stopped posting his daily photos as a househusband on Tianya Club， one of the most-visited internet forums in China.
　　One and half years ago， he started to provide updates on his househusband day under the “stocks forum” on Tianya， depicting his life stock trading from home with the ankle-biters running about—his life as a stay-at-home dad. His posts attracted over 148，000 views and 4，300 replies. However， he recently announced a cessation to his posts and replies. “I have started to feel tired of my life at home and don’t feel like sharing it.” 　　Yisheng decided to quit his job when his child turned one. “My wife was promoted at that time and when the breast-feeding ended she became very busy. As for me， I prefer investing in the stock market， from which I gain more of a sense of achievement and make more money than from my job as an accountant，” he said.
　　Following his posts on Tianya， netizens applauded his patience， diligence， and family-oriented attitude. His first post was a picture of breakfast he made for his wife and son， a second grade primary school student： three bowls of noodles with soup， eggs and vegetables， and a small plate of jujube and walnut seeds.
　　After his wife left for the office and his son for school， he would wash the bowls and clean their two-bedroom flat， with one hour to watch TV news， paying special attention to government policies that could affect the markets.
　　“I read books written by Soros and Buffett， but I know their experiences were based on Western financial systems. The Chinese stock market is very different…It’s affected too much by government attitudes and policies，” he told his followers on Tianya.
　　The second picture he posted was a lunch： steamed fish， a bowl of fried vegetables， and preserved pork. After lunch he would take a nap before picking up his son and preparing dinner.
　　Cooking and housework are time-consuming and repetitive， but Yisheng enjoyed it and said he spent the last year in peace. He compares himself with Ang Lee， the Taiwan-born American film director who spent seven years as a cook before he became a world-class director.
　　But， eventually， he became anxious. Just a year later， he started to miss the old days when he could hang out with colleagues after work. “I do enjoy being with my child and wife， but I want to get back to a community and get along with different people.” He belongs to an emerging population of stay-at-home dads in China. The traditional belief that men should be the breadwinner and that women should “help the husband and teach the children （相夫教子）” is fading and there are a growing number of stay-at-home dads.
　　An online survey by Netease polled over 3，500 netizens and over 50 percent of 1，589 male respondents said they would not like to become a stay-at-home dad and only 30 percent said yes. Among the 2，158 female respondents， 40 percent said they could not accept their husbands as stay-at-home dads and 30 percent said they could. A common reason given by the respondents who oppose female-led households is that they think both mother and father should have clearly specified jobs， otherwise it will give rise to gaps in communication. 　　A report by the Shanghai All-Women Federation in 2012 said that a majority of people agree that a strong wife and a weak husband is not good for family stability.
　　“In the long term we would not have anything in common; gradually he would not be able to understand the pressures of work and would complain if I came home too late，” says Zhang Xiaoyuan， 26， a white-collar worker in Beijing.
　　The stay-at-home dad concept became quite popular four years ago with the TV drama Marriage Battle， which tells the story of three couples in which the wives work and the husbands stay at home. It wasn’t exactly a hymn to feminist polymics; the couples often gave way tobickering and the men were annoyed by their bossy wives. But， there was an exception， the perfect house husband： Xu Xiaoning. He was gentle， patient， understanding， and he was happy to cook—a role that became very popular indeed with viewers.
　　“The role of Xu Xiaoning became popular among female viewers because nowadays fathers are given little time to join their wives during pregnancy or the nursing period， so women like to see men parenting like a caring father. But they do not like seeing their husbands wearing aprons all day，” says Zhou Xiaopeng， a marriage consultant with Baihe.com， China’s largest match-making website.
　　Chinese labor law has no regulation for paternity leave and many long for more involvement from men in the child-raising process; this is what has led to the popularity of the stay-at-home dad， says Zhou. “In my generation， girls were taught to be a good mother. Even though we value our jobs and were not dependent on men， we expected them to shoulder the family’s burden，” she added.
　　Far from a burden， many stay-at-home dads feel their lives are smooth sailing， and， like Yisheng， most of them think it’s temporary.
　　But， Cui Yuxiang feels proud that he has spent more time with his kid than other working fathers. Living in Beijing， Cui became a stay-at-home father three years ago when his daughter was born. Unlike Yisheng， he does not feel isolated， but he does think he’s a bit clumsy when it comes to handling babies.
　　“Whenever my wife stays with the child， she smiles more and seldom cries，” Cui says. “Maybe most men just can not be as gentle as women.” Now that the shoe is on the other food， Cui is upset when his wife comes home late. “Now I understand why wives complain about their husbands coming home too late.”
　　For now， he is enjoying the job of father， but he plans to go back to work when his daughter is old enough for primary school. 　　“Though I could just make money through a part-time job， it’s not enough and we have to prepare for our child’s future education costs，” Cui says. “I cannot put all the burden all on my wife’s shoulders. I believe no man would do that.”
　　Besides the difficult job of being a dad， loneliness is also a factor for stay-at-home fathers.
　　“Housewives in a community can form a group in which they share their lives， make friends， and organize activities to enrich their lives， but I don’t feel I can socialize with them，” says Jiang Yu’an， a 35-year-old stay-at-home dad in Beijing.
　　But， times have changed， and the good news is that he says he has never been judged for “living off a woman.”
　　“Initially my parents were worried that I would be pointed at by people because， in the countryside， neighbors and relatives often exchange gossip with each other. But， in a big city like Beijing， people living in the same building do not know each other and many people are migrant workers with relatives living in hometowns far way， so there is no one coming to your home to judge you，” Jiang says.
　　Just like Cui and Yisheng， Jiang says his job of stay-at-home dad is temporary. “My son is three-years-old， I will get back to work when he turns seven.”
　　Age-old question
　　How dire is China’s aging
　　population problem？
　　David Dawson
　　China has become the world’s factory and an economic powerhouse in large part because of its massive supply of labor. But what happens when this labor force gets too old to work and there aren’t enough workers？
　　The World Bank has pointed out that China now has the fastest-aging population in the world， and of course， the largest. Government media outlet Xinhua points out that， “at the end of 2014， there were 212 million Chinese， or 15.5 percent of the population， aged 60 or above. This is expected to increase by around ten million every year.”
　　The gravity of this problem is no doubt keeping more than a few Chinese planners up late at night， particularly if the recently announced two-child policy fails to deliver the babies necessary to avert it， as it seems it might.
　　A recent UN report summarizes the problem quite succinctly： “A rapid transition to low fertility and associated population aging pose daunting challenges. The ratio between the working-age population aged 20–59 and older persons aged 60 and above will be more than halved in the next 20 years， from about five workers for every older person in 2010 to only two in 2030. The economic ramifications of this major demographic shift are many， ranging from labor-force supply， savings， investment and tax burden， to consumption patterns.” 　　The aging population brings together a kaleidoscope of complex social issues， and the results are difficult to predict. Japan provides some clues， but the country’s decades-long economic stagnation is hardly an appetizing prospect for Chinese authorities attempting a national rejuvenation project， and the economic profiles of the two countries are still vastly different.
　　High education and housing costs have long been making the idea of second children unattractive to Chinese couples， a fact that clashes with traditional preferences for large families. Demand for labor is expected to spike with a graying population， but then again， the slowing economy has recently produced a spike in worker protests and even kidnappings of managers of recently-closed factories， as workers—older， less employable ones in particular—vent their frustration.
　　Already， more than a quarter of the residents of the capital were over 60 at the close of 2014， according to a 2015 Xinhua report， which cited the city’s office for senior citizens as saying “the number of over-60s in Beijing rose by 174，000 from a year earlier to 2.967 million at the end of 2014， accounting for 22.3 percent of the registered population.
　　“Over-70s accounted for nearly half the total elderly population in the city. The number of over-80s rose from 2013 to 2014 by 42，000， a year-on-year increase of 8.8 percent，” Xinhua said， also pointing out that the city is home to several hundred centenarians.
　　In contrast to developed nations， a very small proportion of these elderly live in nursing homes， with most opting to stay with family. There have been a number of efforts to encourage elderly citizens to live in nursing homes， but most have met with concerted resistance from the elderly themselves. Even as international firms eye the increasing proportion of elderly Chinese and consider the opportunities for rolling out more advanced nursing options imported from the West， resistance to the idea from the customers themselves will be difficult to overcome， not to mention the fact that many of these elderly are living in the countryside and are sometimes providing care to the left-behind children of migrant workers. There are also tough regulatory hurdles to overcome when setting up nursing homes， a necessity in a country struggling with numerous quality-of-care and transparency issues in its medical sector—as a powerful example， in May 2015， a fire at a nursing home in Henan killed 38 people. 　　Unsurprisingly， this prompted a barrage of public criticism and investigation into the standards of nursing homes， the results of which were not pretty.
　　But， if senior Chinese citizens are not going to live in nursing homes， this generally means staying with family. Already， young Chinese couples often have to endure the financial and psychological pressure of caring for four parents， and potentially grandparents， as well as their children.
　　Myriad economic and sociocultural changes could affect this dynamic， but without significant transformation， it would seem that young Chinese are going to be burdened even more by elderly relatives living with them. Two-child families would of course relieve some of this burden， but again—only if families decide they are in an economic position where they can have a second child， and these are unlikely to be the families under the greatest financial pressure.
　　Having a second child still requires parents to go through the permission process. In the past， failure to secure permission meant hefty fines， often in the hundreds of thousands of yuan in large cities. These fees have not been abolished， meaning families that have a third child—or even families which do not meet the required criteria or obtain the necessary paperwork—will still be fined. This creates an added barrier for single parents， who are unable to fill in the required spaces on forms to have their applications processed， effectively making single-parenthood a gray zone in terms of legality—technically legal， though in practice， a bureaucratic nightmare.
　　For the state， however， one of the most pressing concerns is funding growing retirement costs alongside a shrinking share of tax revenue. In 2009 a rural pension plan was put in place， but the payments are little more than a pittance. Similarly， an urban pension plan was instituted in 2011. Unfortunately， China is already raking up massive trillion-yuan deficits every year in terms of social security costs. One option being seriously considered is raising the retirement age， which is currently relatively young compared to some advanced developed countries. In March of 2015， authorities announced that there would be an analysis of the retirement age， and concrete announcements by 2017， which would take five years to implement. The proposal at present involves raising the retirement age—currently 60 for men， 55 for women in the public sector， and as young as 50 for female workers in factories.
　　Despite the fact this would be of dramatic help in terms of economics， citizens are understandably hostile to the idea. But without many possible solutions to the problem on the horizon， it seems Beijing will face a tough decision.