Playing With the Old Blood Rules

China's one-child policy is broken. After years of public grumbling, international scandals over forced sterilization and government tinkering, that's a truth of which most Chinese are aware. So when a senior official announced two weeks ago that Beijing was considering scrapping the policy, it didn't come as a complete surprise. Speaking at a press briefing in Beijing, Zhao Baige, vice minister of China's National Population and Family Planning Commission, cautioned that she couldn't say exactly what changes the government would make, or when. But she did make one thing clear: that Beijing knows the policy doesn't work any longer, and it needs to be rethought. "This has become a big issue among [China's] decision makers," she explained.

It's no wonder. After almost 30 years in force, China's unpopular one-child rule—though it was never as strict as usually portrayed—has distorted the population in a manner that threatens China's future. Coupled with the tumultuous impact of rising wealth, the policy has reshaped families in a number of unintended ways. It has limited the number of children available to care for parents in a rapidly aging society in which the state provides few services. The one-child rule also has turned China's traditional bias for sons into a motivation to screen out girls, yielding a population heavily overweight with men. Beijing knows full well these trends won't produce the "harmonious society" that is its official goal, and so it has begun tweaking its policies anew. But tweaks may not be enough.

The most pressing problem is a breakdown of filial piety, the sense of loyalty and shame that drove generations past to protect their elders no matter the cost. Chinese experts say the nation of only-children is increasingly self-centered, more and more inclined to abandon old obligations. Drawn to the booming big cities, many young people are also throwing themselves into the newly rich urban lifestyle (and helping to save for retirement) by opting to have no children themselves.

Those left behind are being forced to adapt. Most strikingly, many Chinese parents are now even reconsidering their long-held prejudice for sons, on the new assumption that daughters are more likely to grow into loyal caregivers. In a striking recent online survey, a thin majority of Chinese said they would now rather have girls than boys. Aged Chinese, meanwhile, are scrambling to find new ways to care for themselves, including private insurance programs and more-bizarre measures like "kid for hire" systems.

The government is seeking creative solutions of its own. Recognizing that the breakdown in filial piety is likely irreversible, it is moving to create a nationwide system of home care for the elderly—in part because it's still considered shameful to send mom or dad to a nursing home. Of course, the simplest fix would be to free people to have more kids, and in some cities, officials are doing just that. But since the 1980s, when the state routinely conducted forced sterilizations, Chinese authorities have largely lost the will and capacity to enforce family-planning policies. Beijing is also still fearful of setting off an uncontrolled population boom. Thus no sooner had Zhao said the one-child policy was being reconsidered than Prime Minister Wen Jiabao tried to squelch the news, insisting no change was in store. "We will adhere to the current policy of family planning [and] keep the birthrate low," he told the National People's Congress last week.

But the changes underway are too big to contain. The problem of a rapidly aging population is common to prospering nations worldwide—but it's made more complicated in China by the impact of its family-planning policies. As China has developed, life expectancy has shot upward, from younger than 50 in 1949 to older than 72 today. The elderly (over 60) share of the population has grown, from 10 percent in 2000 to 11.3 percent in 2006. Though China's Constitution says children must support their parents, many now neglect them. That's partly because the offspring of one-child families are "more likely to be spoiled and self-centered," says Cai Feng, a demographer. But the result is that, as of 2005, 42 percent of Chinese families consisted of an old couple living alone, according to government statistics. In some cities, that figure is now more than 56 percent—comparable to the United States, where aid and the elder-care infrastructure are more comprehensive.