Opinion Piece: Baby Boost or Ballot Boost? The Policy Motives Behind the 60,000 TWD Scheme

Taiwan’s low birthrate seems to have found a 'miracle cure' recently. The Legislative Yuan passed the 'Children and Youth Growth and Future Account Act' in its third reading, under which the government will deposit 60,000 TWD annually into an account for every child under the age of 18, with estimated annual expenditures exceeding 200 billion TWD. Both ruling and opposition parties claim this is to address the issue of low birthrates. However, many people have the same question after reading the bill: the children have already been born for over a decade—so is this policy really about encouraging childbirth, or merely celebrating their existence? The real concern isn’t the 60,000 TWD, but rather that Taiwan’s public policy is increasingly falling into a dangerous governance culture: when any problem arises, the first response is to hand out money—whether it actually solves the problem is a matter for later. Low birthrates should target those who haven’t yet had children; yet this new law includes everyone who already has. Based on current estimates, of the approximately 216.2 billion TWD budget in the first year, over 70 billion TWD will go to adolescents aged 12 to 17, while only about 12 billion TWD will benefit newborns. If the goal is to reverse low birthrates, the biggest beneficiaries are teenagers just years away from adulthood. This is like a fire department arriving at a blaze and choosing not to extinguish the fire, but instead repaint the neighboring house—making a spectacle, yet completely missing the point. The core issue isn’t legislative technique, but policy philosophy. The most fundamental principle of public policy is that the problem should determine the tool (Problem-driven Policy). First identify the problem, then design the solution; first diagnose the cause, then prescribe the remedy. Yet Taiwan is gradually adopting the opposite logic: the tool determines the problem. First decide how much money to distribute, then find the most politically appealing justification for the subsidy; first design the welfare program, then label it as 'addressing low birthrates,' 'supporting youth,' or 'intergenerational justice.' As a result, population policy, child welfare, wealth distribution, and education investment are all mixed into one pot—each receiving a little attention, but none truly addressed. More importantly, why does this phenomenon keep recurring? The answer likely lies not with any single political party, but with the incentives embedded in the entire political system. Democracy was originally meant to be a competition of policies, but it has increasingly become a bidding war for welfare promises. The contest is no longer about who can best solve problems, but who dares to write the biggest checks; not who reforms the system, but who offers the most subsidies. Because reform creates opposition, while handing out money earns applause. Thus, 'everyone gets something' gradually replaces 'priority for those truly in need,' and 'immediate tangible benefits' supplant 'long-term effectiveness.' Policies begin to serve votes, not problems. Low birthrates have thus become the most convenient political packaging. Mortgage subsidies are labeled as anti-low-birthrate measures; childcare allowances are called pro-natalist policies; children’s accounts are also justified as boosting fertility. It seems that as long as the term 'encouraging childbirth' is attached to any welfare policy, any expenditure can be rationalized. Yet decades of global experience have already shown a different truth. Singapore introduced a comprehensive set of pro-natalist measures over two decades ago—'Baby Bonus,' cash allowances, childcare subsidies, tax incentives, flexible working hours, and parental leave. Each policy became more generous than the last, yet the total fertility rate continued to decline. South Korea has invested hundreds of trillions of won in pro-natalist policies, including cash subsidies, housing support, childcare allowances, and public childcare services, yet it still maintains one of the world’s lowest birthrates. Sweden and France have long been seen as model countries for family policy, with generous parental leave, robust childcare systems, and high family welfare spending. Birthrates remained relatively high for a time, but have also been steadily declining in recent years. The OECD has pointed out that while family policy is important, housing affordability, youth employment, working hour culture, and a sense of future insecurity are the key factors influencing fertility decisions. In other words, no advanced country has successfully reversed low birthrates simply by handing out cash. What truly works is not one-time subsidies, but making young people believe: 'After having children, my life won’t fall apart.' France has long invested in public childcare, family tax systems, and support for multiple children; Sweden emphasizes shared parenting and work-life balance; Singapore has recently admitted that subsidies alone are insufficient and must also reduce the career costs of childbirth for women and improve youth confidence in the future. In contrast, young people in Taiwan face high housing prices, long working hours, low wages, insufficient childcare, and anxiety over career interruptions after childbirth. None of these structural barriers will disappear simply because a child receives a lump sum 18 years later. Even more concerning is that the new law allows families and companies to make additional contributions. While intended to encourage savings, it may ultimately allow high-income families to accumulate even more assets, while low-income families rely solely on government subsidies—worsening the starting-line inequality for the next generation. A policy promoted as fair may end up creating new inequities. Therefore, what truly needs reform is not the children’s account, but the policy mindset. If this is a child welfare policy, call it child welfare; if it’s a youth asset policy, openly acknowledge it as such. Don’t wrap everything in the cloak of 'low birthrates' and package all welfare as pro-natalist measures. Otherwise, the end result will be: birthrates don’t rise, fiscal burdens keep growing, and policy goals become unmeasurable. Taiwan’s greatest crisis today isn’t spending 200 billion TWD a year, but that public policy is gradually shifting from 'solving problems' to 'managing public opinion,' and from 'governing the nation' to 'managing votes.' When political parties compete only on 'who gives more,' rather than 'who reforms deeper,' low birthrates will become the most expensive campaign slogan in the next election. The 60,000 TWD may help build a young adult fund for children—but without systemic change, it will never buy a future where young people are willing to marry and have children! *The author is a Ph.D. in management and an adjunct university professor.