These days, one of the primary questions of young couples in South Korea is “Shall we have children or not?” In the past, however, Koreans not only took having children for granted but many customarily raised five to six children per home. At that time, Korean parents’ primary concern at childbirth was, “Is it a boy or a girl?”

In the past, Koreans preferred sons to daughters. When a mother gave birth to a baby girl, therefore, she felt ashamed as if she had committed an unpardonable sin, even after the hard labor she went through. Then her husband, without saying any comforting words to his wife, would rush to a nearby tavern and drink to drown his disappointment. Science proves that women are not responsible for bearing a girl, and yet Korean men solely blamed their wives for it. They had the strange idea that only their sons could inherit the lineage of their families.

Later when medical technology was able to identify the sex of embryos, thanks to ultrasounds, many Korean would-be parents wanted an abortion if it turned out to be a girl. Consequently, so many unborn baby girls never had a chance to come into this world. Now, the result of such beliefs is that, in today’s Korea, one out of five or six young men reportedly cannot find a spouse due to a shortage of young women.

Indeed, in today’s Korea, the number of young men far exceeds the number of young women. The older generation in Korea was incredibly unwise and myopic. How could they not foresee this inevitable outcome of their preference for sons? Moreover, how could they be blind to the well-known fact that unlike many daughters, sons generally would be reluctant to take care of their aged parents? These days, many older parents have belatedly realized that after getting married, their sons leave them for good, but daughters remain, though metaphorically.

Thus, there is a bitter joke in today’s Korea: “If you get old and have two married sons, you are likely to die on the street, because when you visit your sons’ homes you’ll be rejected by both of them.” Indeed, your son finds taking care of his own family a handful and thus has no strength left to look after his aging parents. Besides, he has a solemn duty to protect his wife from her ever-menacing mother-in-law.

Unlike your son, however, your daughter will welcome you and gladly be your chatting partner whenever necessary. Indeed, a daughter can be a good friend to her mother. That is why many aging Korean parents feel their daughters are much closer and more comfortable to be with than their sons. Especially if you live with your unmarried daughter, it is a blessing to you because she will be a great comfort and solace to her otherwise lonely old parents who need someone to lean on.

In the case of a married daughter, you will have to help her with raising your grandchild and doing house chores. Of course, taking care of your grandchild is an utmost pleasure. Nevertheless, it is hard work when combined with cooking and cleaning. Thus, there is another funny joke in Korea: “If you have two married daughters, you will probably die at the kitchen sink from overwork, carrying your grandchild on your back.”

In the past, if you had two sons, you were considered a gold medalist. More recently, if you had two daughters, you were considered a gold medalist. Now, in both cases, you are no longer a gold medalist, but merely a person who may die early because of your sons or daughters. Perhaps that is part of the reason why “having no kids” has become so fashionable in Korea lately.

Besides, Korean children must go through notorious competition to take the college entrance exam, which starts from the cradle, and a cutthroat job market and serious housing problems due to unaffordable, astronomical real estate prices. To make matters worse, children in Korea have to breathe in hazardous microdust. Considering all these issues, it is understandable that Korean young people are reluctant to have children.

Of course, “no wedding and no babies” is a worldwide phenomenon these days. Yet, no other countries seem to suffer such a radical decrease in population as in Korea. In my town in New England, for example, every home has two to three children on average. It may be costly and hard to raise children. Nevertheless, the pleasure of raising children is beyond description. Sometimes, children can be a burden or a headache, but most of the time, they are precious gems and a heavenly blessing.

Besides, old parents will not be lonely if they have their offspring nearby. We do hope that our young people change their minds and are willing to have babies. Without children, our future will be grim and lonesome.

Kim Seong-kon

Kim Seong-kon is a professor emeritus of English at Seoul National University and a visiting scholar at Dartmouth College. The views expressed here are the writer’s own. -- Ed.