Last year, the number of children brought into the world set a new negative record: with 145,000 children, we are at the lowest level in the last 100 years, according to an announcement made on Tuesday by Statistics.
The fewest children were born in Tulcea, Mehedinți and Caraş-Severin (under 1500 births in 2025). We remind you that in Caraș-Severin, the number of children under 14 decreased by almost 25% between the two Censuses (the one from 2021 and the one from 2011).
The birth rate is below the level needed to replace the generations, and the mortality rate, in relative increase, further presses the demographic balance. Romania is entering a phase of structural demographic contraction.
The president of the National Institute of Statistics, Tudorel Andrei, describes the dimension of the phenomenon: “The rate of decrease of the population under one year old between the last censuses is almost 20%, being the fastest rate among all age groups.”
At the 2021 census, Romania's population was 5.3% smaller than in 2011. The number of children under 10 years decreased by almost 6%, and the share of the population over 65 years old rose to around 20%.
Many of the world's richest economies will need to double their productivity levels to maintain living standards amid falling birthrates, according to a report by consulting firm McKinsey published today that analyzes the economic impact of falling birthrates.
Moreover, almost half of the young Romanians declare their intention to emigrate. In 2023, the record of the last 10 years was recorded for the final departure of young people from the country.
He does not want to take out a home loan, especially in this economically uncertain period. He hopes that apartment prices will drop further, that the real estate market will fall. No one rushes him.
Like him, there are many other fellow citizens who delay leaving home for up to 30 years for men, and 25.4 years for women, according to Eurostat data. An explanation can also be the fact that they marry earlier.
When predictability disappears
The Romanian paradox is that the collapse of the birth rate comes in a period of relative prosperity. In the last 20 years, GDP per capita adjusted for purchasing power parity has multiplied several times. And yet, there are fewer children than in the 90s.
In the past, housing was inherited or assigned, work was low-paid but stable, and the extended family functioned as a safety net. The baby was coming before everything was settled.
Today, the baby comes after you solve everything: housing, two stable incomes, savings, emotional balance, the certainty that “you can handle it”. The result is procrastination.
As the BNR notes: “The aging phenomenon has intensified, with the number of elderly people per 100 young people increasing to 132.4 in January 2025 compared to 126.8 a year ago. The average age of the population increased to 42.9 years, 0.4 years more than in January 2024. The reduction in the share of the working-age population causes a shortage of workers qualified, which negatively affects productivity and the ability of firms to expand”.
Demographic effects are putting pressure on pension spending, which is forecast to exceed 10% of GDP in the next 30 years, while contributions to the public pension system will decline to around 5.5% of GDP in the next 15 years and remain at this level until the end of the projection horizon (2070)”.
Andreea, 31 years old, Bucharest: “I want a child, but I don't want to raise it in rent for fear”
Andreea and her partner rent a two-room apartment. It's no drama—until the question of when they're having a baby comes up.
Then, the rent becomes a reason for anxiety.
Andreea calculates simply: if she gets pregnant, she will go on leave, her income will decrease, and the owner has already informed her that she will increase her rent “from March”.
This is how a couple with two employed people ends up treating the child as an investment that they cannot afford “in the absence of housing stability”.
It's not a lack of love, it's a lack of predictability.
Elena, 35 years old, Cluj: “One more year. I have to catch this project. And then, see you later”
Elena is in a good field. He has a good salary. But it also has something that statistics don't measure: the professional cost of motherhood.
In Romania, many women feel that motherhood is not a break, but a descent: you lose your rhythm, you lose projects, you lose promotions, you lose your “trusted” place.
In addition, even if the law protects you, reality punishes you: when you come back, you're “the one who spent a year or two on the hook.”
Elena postpones with the classic phrase: “I'll stay one more year. Just to consolidate my position.” And that “one year” becomes two. Then three.
And in a rapidly aging country, every “one more year” turns into a cold statistic: fewer births.
Mirela, 28 years old, Botoșani: “It's not that I don't want to. It's that I'm afraid of being alone with everything”
Mirela is planning a child. But her plan is not romantic. It's logistical. He knows what it means: to have no daycare, to have no grandparents available, to have a medical system that cares for you, to have a partner who “helps” but doesn't take over, and to have a state that says, “I'll give you an allowance,” but leaves you to deal with the rest.
In Romania, motherhood is still too often an individual project, not a family and community project.
Mirela doesn't say “I don't want a child”. Say, “I'm afraid of being alone.”
The figure that says it all: in 2025, Romania lost the equivalent of a city
The negative natural increase of -94,000 inhabitants (excluding external migration) in one month means that Romania lost, just from the birth-death difference, a population comparable to a small city like Buzau or Satu Mare.
