washingtonpost.com

The Emptying of Russia

By Nicholas Eberstadt

Friday, February 13, 2004; Page A27

Population trends and demographic characteristics in Russia today are
severely -- and adversely -- altering the realm of the possible for
that country and its people. Russian social conditions, economic
potential, military power and international influence are all affected,
and the situation stands only to worsen.

Russia is at the brink of a steep demographic decline -- a peacetime

washingtonpost.com

washingtonpost.com


The Emptying of Russia


By Nicholas Eberstadt

Friday, February 13, 2004; Page A27

Russia is at the brink of a steep demographic decline -- a peacetime
population hemorrhage framed by a collapse and a catastrophic surge,
respectively, in the birth and death rates.

It seems likely that Russia will become a "normal" Western nation only
when its voting public makes clear that this situation is intolerable
and must be remedied. Only then, one can argue, will Russia's public
servants finally be aroused from their deadly lethargy and mobilize
themselves for this absolutely necessary struggle in defense of the
motherland.


The writer holds the Henry Wendt chair in political economy at the
American Enterprise Institute.

washingtonpost.com


The Emptying of Russia


By Nicholas Eberstadt

Friday, February 13, 2004; Page A27


Population trends and demographic characteristics in Russia today are
severely -- and adversely -- altering the realm of the possible for
that country and its people. Russian social conditions, economic
potential, military power and international influence are all affected,
and the situation stands only to worsen.

Russia is at the brink of a steep demographic decline -- a peacetime
population hemorrhage framed by a collapse and a catastrophic surge,
respectively, in the birth and death rates. The forces that have shaped
this path of depopulation and debilitation are powerful and by now
deeply rooted in Russian soil. Altering this demographic trajectory
would be a formidable task under any circumstances. Unfortunately,
neither Russia's political leadership nor its voting public have begun
to face up to this enormous challenge.

On New Year's Day 1992 -- one week after the dissolution of the Soviet
Union -- Russia's population was estimated at 148.7 million. As of mid-
2003, according to the Russian State Statistics Committee, the Russian
Federation's population was 144.5 million. This was by no means the
only population loss recorded by any country during that period.
According to estimates and projections by the U.S. Bureau of the
Census, more than a dozen states experienced a population decline
between midyear 1992 and midyear 2003, 10 of these amounting to drops
greater than Russia's 3.1 percent. But unlike some of these drops --
e.g. Bosnia's -- Russia's could not be explained in terms of war and
violent upheaval. In other places, population decline was due entirely
to emigration. Russia, by contrast, absorbed a substantial net influx
of migrants during those years -- a total net addition of more than 5.5
million.

Moreover, continuing population decline -- at a decidedly faster tempo -
- is envisioned for Russia as far as demographers care to project into
the future. The only question is how steep the downward path will be.
The U.S. Census Bureau offers the relatively "optimistic" projection of
a drop of 10 million between 2000 and 2025. The U.N. Population
Division's "medium variant" projection suggests a drop of more than 21
million in that period.

Russia is not, to be sure, the only European country registering more
deaths than births. According to Council of Europe numbers, fully 18
European states currently report "negative natural increase." But in
other European settings, the balance is often still quite close. For
example, in Italy -- the prime example in many current discussions of a
possible depopulation of Europe -- there are today about 103 deaths for
every 100 live births. Russia, by contrast, reports more than 170
deaths for every 100 births.

Russia's abrupt and brutal swerve onto the path to depopulation began
during the final crisis of the Soviet state. Over the two decades
before Mikhail Gorbachev's accession to power in 1985, Russia's births
regularly exceeded deaths. After 1987, however, births began to fall
sharply and death totals to rise.

Russia's current depopulation bears all the trappings of a "demographic
shock," reflecting abrupt and violent changes in the nation's vital
rates in the immediate wake of a momentous, system-shattering, historic
event. This shock is probably not just a temporary disturbance: There
are good reasons to believe that Russia's population trends define a
new norm for that country.

Fertility plummeted from 2.19 in 1986-87 to 1.17 in 1999. (Over the
past several years, fertility has edged up, but only slightly.) Given
how quickly it declined, is it not possible that it would rebound
vigorously in a more favorable political and economic environment? It's
possible, but there are a number of obstacles to such a recovery.

First: Russia's poor and declining overall health patterns extend into
the realm of reproductive health, meaning that involuntary infertility
is a more significant problem for Russia than for Western countries,
and possibly a worsening one. According to some recent reports, 13
percent of Russia's married couples of childbearing age are infertile --
nearly twice the figure for the United States in 1995. Other Russian
sources point to an even greater prevalence of infertility today.

Russian womanhood has been scarred by the country's extraordinary
popular reliance upon abortion as a primary means of contraception --
with the abortions in question conducted under the less-than-exemplary
standards of Soviet and post-Soviet medicine. As one expert (Murray
Feshbach) has noted, "approximately 10 to 20 percent of [Russian] women
become infertile after abortions, according to numerous reports." Add
to this the explosive spread of potentially curable sexually
transmitted infections. According to official figures, the incidence of
syphilis in 2001 was 100 times higher in Russia than in Germany.

Second: Russian patterns of family formation have been evolving
markedly over the past generation -- and not in a direction conducive
to larger families. Simply put, young Russians are now much less likely
to marry -- and ever more likely to divorce if they do. In 2001 Russia
recorded three divorces for every four new marriages.

Third, and perhaps most important: With the end of the Soviet system,
Russia has in some real sense commenced a rejoining with the rest of
Europe -- and in present-day Europe, Russian fertility rates are by no
means aberrant. While Russia's levels tilt toward the lower end of the
European spectrum, they are actually higher than for some other post-
Communist areas whose "transitions" to democracy and market order look
rather more complete (Slovenia, 1.21; Czech Republic, 1.14) -- and are
comparable to the current levels in a number of the established market
democracies of the European Union (Austria, 1.31; Greece, 1.29; Spain,
1.26; Italy, 1.24). Viewed over a longer horizon, Russia's postwar
fertility levels and trends look altogether "European."

But Russia's death rates do not look European at all. Over the four
decades between 1961-62 and 2002, life expectancy at birth in Russia
fell by nearly five years for males; it also declined for females,
though just slightly. Desperately poor health conditions are
distributed with a wretched evenness across the land.

To judge by Russia's (admittedly less than perfect) statistics on cause
of death, nearly all of the increase in mortality rates for men -- and
absolutely all of the increase for women -- can be attributed to an
explosion in deaths related to cardiovascular disease (CVD -- heart
disease plus strokes) and injuries. Between the mid-1960s and the end
of the 20th century, CVD mortality rates in Japan, Western Europe and
North America fell sharply. In Russia between 1965 and 2001, the age-
standardized death rate for CVD surged by 25 percent for women and 65
percent for men. By the dawn of the 21st century, the level of CVD
mortality was of a totally different scale than anything seen in the
West. For working-age people, or those 25 to 64, Ireland reported
Western Europe's highest level of CVD mortality. Russia's was more than
four times Ireland's.

As for mortality attributed to injury -- murder, suicide, traffic,
poisoning and other violent causes -- age-adjusted levels for men and
women alike more t