This reporting was supported by the International Women’s Media Foundation’s Women
on the Ground: Reporting from Ukraine’s Unseen Frontlines Initiative in partnership with the Howard G. Buffett Foundation.
Across much of the global North, a quiet crisis has been unfolding — birth rates are dropping, populations are aging and economies have been faltering. In the remote northeastern corner of the United States, New Hampshire has been grappling with the implications of population stagnation for decades. After college, many graduates, including myself, have been leaving the sleepy state more or less for good.
I studied environmental sciences and studio art at Dartmouth College and graduated in 2017. I went to Arctic Norway and Finland for a postgraduate fellowship documenting how Sami reindeer herders are coping with climate change and technological developments. I returned to New Hampshire for a brief moment before moving to Nairobi, Kenya, where I’ve been working as a photojournalist for the past five years. While my own case may seem anomalous and unconventional, most of my career-oriented high school classmates do not appear to have remained in New Hampshire, opting instead to move to bigger cities across the U.S.
While demographic changes in relatively well-off places like New Hampshire may be concerning, they pale in comparison to demographic collapse in places like Ukraine, where war has compounded pre-existing problems of emigration and low fertility. These regional examples reflect a broader global trend: “developed” countries increasingly shaped by declining birth rates.
New Hampshire is saddled by both an aging population and declining birth rates. Birth rates have been declining for years and the state’s median age is over 43, making it one of the oldest in the nation. In many rural counties, schools are closing due to lack of students and local governments are struggling to recruit young workers.
Economic growth can be difficult. Younger millennials and Gen Z are foundational not only as laborers but also as consumers and taxpayers who uphold social systems. Thus, the pressure is exacted on both sides: as the working-age population shrinks, pressure on healthcare and education accelerates.
New Hampshire’s demographic decline, although concerning, is relatively manageable at the moment. Dartmouth and its hospital remains a point of attraction, thus softening the blow in both numbers and diversity flow. On the other side of the Atlantic, Ukraine’s future is far bleaker. Even before Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022, Ukraine had one of the fastest-shrinking populations in the world. The country’s birth rate had dropped far below replacement levels, with millions leaving in search of better economic opportunities. In 1991, the population of Ukraine stood at around 52 million; by 2021, it had fallen to about 41 million — a loss of more than 20%. The war has only accelerated this trend.
Unlike in New Hampshire, where aging and low fertility are the main contributors to population decline, Ukraine’s population shrinkage includes high mortality from the war and mass emigration. But even before the full-scale invasion, the fertility rate was 1.16 according to national statistics –– among the lowest in the world. Infrastructure destruction, healthcare standstills and the psycho-social costs of war have further undermined any demographic recovery. “People here are depressed,” someone told me when I was in Kyiv this past June. “It’s like their souls have left their bodies.”
Entire cities have been demolished as part of Putin’s strategy in Ukraine’s physical and cultural erasure. The prognosis for recovery is grim: even with the advent of peace, rebuilding a stable, youthful population will take generations.
New Hampshire and Ukraine may differ drastically in cause and scale, but both highlight the broader demographic challenge facing the world. From Japan and Italy to South Korea and China, a growing number of countries are facing what has been described as a “demographic time bomb.” Even in times of peace, people are simply having fewer children.
Economic prosperity, education, urbanization and women’s participation in the workforce all correlate with lower birth rates. While these trends reflect human progress, they also create a paradox: the very conditions that support quality of life often lead to demographic contraction. As a result, countries that once feared overpopulation are now struggling to sustain basic economic functions and public services.
In the U.S., immigration has historically been a buffer against this trend. But political resistance and chokeholds on immigration policies have made this solution more contentious. In Europe, nations like Germany and France are experimenting with family incentives — tax breaks, subsidized childcare and extended parental leave — but results are modest at best.
Global labor markets are feeling the impacts. Fewer young workers, increased automation and shifts in global influence all contribute to sputtering economic growth. Nations with younger populations — such as India and many in Sub-Saharan Africa — may gain geopolitical power simply by virtue of demographics (the African continent has the fastest growing population globally; 70% of sub-Saharan Africa is under the age of 30).
New Hampshire’s demographic evolution offers a mild example of a shift that is far more pronounced — and dangerous — in countries like Ukraine. Both cases underscore a central fact of the 21st century: we are entering a post-growth world. Viable solutions will require rethinking everything from urban planning and workforce policy to immigration. As countries confront this reality, they must recognize that demographic decline is not only a statistical trend but a profound, societal shift.
Kang-Chun Cheng is a Taiwanese American photojournalist from New Hampshire and based in Nairobi, Kenya for five years, covering the environment, foreign aid, and outdoor adventure. Her upbringing in West Lebanon fostered a deep love for the outdoors.