Why Are Birth Control Pills and Condoms Becoming More Expensive in China?

As a journalist who has closely tracked china’s demographic policies for years, it is hard to miss the irony of Beijing’s latest move. For decades, contraception was not just encouraged in China—it was institutionalised, enforced, and embedded into everyday life under the country’s infamous one-child policy. Now, in a dramatic reversal, the Chinese government has made birth control more expensive, underlining just how urgent the population crisis has become.

From January 1, condoms and oral contraceptive pills in China are no longer exempt from taxation. Instead, they now attract a 13% value-added tax—the standard rate applied to most consumer goods. While this may seem like a technical fiscal adjustment, it is in fact a deeply symbolic policy shift, signalling Beijing’s determination to nudge couples toward parenthood as the world’s second-largest economy confronts shrinking population numbers.

The decision is part of a wider, increasingly assertive strategy aimed at encouraging childbirth, as China grapples with a demographic slowdown that threatens long-term economic stability, labour supply, and social welfare systems.

Why Does China Need More Babies—And Fast?

China’s population declined for the third consecutive year in 2024, a trend that demographers warn is unlikely to reverse without drastic intervention. More than 20% of the population is now aged 60 or above, and United Nations projections suggest this share will rise sharply in the coming decades.

Policymakers fear China could “get old before it gets rich”—a scenario that would strain public finances, shrink the workforce, and slow economic growth. Unlike ageing societies such as japan or South Korea, China’s per-capita income remains significantly lower, and its social security and Healthcare systems are not yet robust enough to handle the burden of a rapidly ageing population.

The fertility rate paints an even starker picture. By 2021, China’s total fertility rate had fallen to around 1.16—far below the replacement level of 2.1 and among the lowest in the world. This decline has profound implications: fewer babies today mean fewer workers tomorrow, threatening productivity, consumption, and China’s global economic standing.

For Beijing, reversing the fertility slump is no longer just a social objective—it has become a strategic imperative.

The Long Shadow of the One-Child Policy

China’s one-child policy, introduced in 1980, officially came to an end in January 2026. For over four decades, the policy reshaped Chinese society, delaying marriages, normalising small families, and embedding state control into reproductive decisions.

Although birth limits were gradually relaxed—first allowing two children and later three—these changes failed to trigger a baby boom. Decades of strict control created deeply ingrained social norms, financial calculations, and lifestyle choices that have proven far harder to reverse.

Public resentment toward the policy resurfaced following the death of Peng Peiyun, who headed China’s Family Planning Commission from 1988 to 1998. Her passing in December sparked an emotional outpouring on social media, reopening wounds from years of forced abortions and sterilisations imposed to meet population targets.

“Those children who were lost, naked, are waiting for you over there,” one Weibo user wrote, capturing the lingering trauma associated with state-mandated birth control.

While Beijing once justified the policy as necessary for economic development, its long-term consequences are now painfully clear. China’s population growth has slowed dramatically, culminating in consecutive years of population decline.

“If the one-child policy had ended ten years earlier, China’s population would not have collapsed like this,” another Weibo commenter observed.

Beijing’s Desperate Push for Babies

In recent years, the Chinese government has rolled out a series of so-called “fertility-friendly” measures. These include simplified marriage registration procedures, expanded access to public preschools, tax breaks for childcare subsidies, and annual cash incentives of around 3,600 yuan for families with young children.

Authorities have also promised tighter regulation of childcare services and the elimination of out-of-pocket hospital delivery costs by 2026. Universities have been instructed to promote “love education” to encourage positive attitudes toward marriage and family life.

Against this backdrop, raising the cost of contraception fits into a subtler policy shift—discouraging child avoidance without resorting to overt coercion.

China Wants Children—But Do the Chinese?

Despite these policy efforts, many young Chinese remain unconvinced. High housing prices, expensive education and childcare, job insecurity, and long working hours have made parenthood feel like a financial risk rather than a natural life choice.

Studies consistently show that raising a child in China—especially in major cities—is among the most expensive in the world relative to income. For many families, government subsidies barely scratch the surface of real costs.

“Raising children in big cities is simply too expensive, and the subsidies feel insignificant,” Mi Ya, a 34-year-old mother living in Shanghai, told CNN. “They don’t make me want another child.”

Marriage rates have also plummeted. Between 2013 and 2020, registered marriages fell by nearly 40%, while the average age of first-time parents continues to rise. Social norms and legal uncertainties surrounding single parenthood further complicate the picture.

Former civil affairs minister Li Jiheng warned as early as 2020 that China’s fertility rate had dropped below a “warning line,” signalling a critical demographic turning point.

The DINK (double income, no children) lifestyle is increasingly popular among urban, educated millennials and Gen Z. Surveys show that a majority of young respondents—many of them women—say they do not want children at all, citing financial pressure, career uncertainty, and the unequal burden of childcare.

In one survey of more than 20,000 people aged 18 to 31, nearly two-thirds said they had no desire to have children.

This mindset is encapsulated in the phrase “We are the last generation,” which gained traction during pandemic lockdowns and now reflects a broader sense of detachment from state-driven expectations around marriage and childbirth.

For many young Chinese, childlessness is seen not as rebellion, but as a rational response to an uncertain future marked by high living costs, intense competition, and limited social mobility.

Will Costlier Condoms Really Help?

It is unlikely that taxing condoms and contraceptive pills alone will spark a baby boom. However, the move highlights just how far China has shifted—from strictly limiting births to subtly discouraging birth control.

The policy reflects the urgency, and perhaps anxiety, of China’s leadership. Whether financial incentives, moral persuasion, and symbolic measures can overcome entrenched economic realities and evolving social values remains the central question in Beijing’s high-stakes demographic gamble.