The thought of seven billion people inhabiting the planet boggles the mind, particularly when one considers that the Philippines, where joblessness and poverty are the norm in a vast swath of the population, contributes as much as 94.9 million to the figure. A demographic milestone arrived at, according to the United Nations’ best estimates, the seven-billion mark is a development more ominous than joyful, more worthy of somber reflection than a bring-out-the-bubbly celebration.
To be sure, children occupy the highest rung of delight on the family scale. In this country, for example, the birth of a child is generally welcomed for a variety of reasons—as a blessing from the divine, an affirmation of the couple’s ability to reproduce (especially, in these sexist parts, the man’s virility), a guarantee of the clan’s continuity, and, in the lower-income strata, a promise of another pair of hands to help in the livelihood (or, as US Ambassador Harry Thomas had rather rashly and awkwardly warned, for which he was eventually forced to eat crow, another body to trade in the burgeoning commerce of the flesh).
The birth on October 31 of the Philippines’ Danica May, the world’s symbolic seven-billionth baby—actually one of a number of “symbols” all over the globe—was cause for happiness for her parents in that it came with a “reward” of a scholarship grant ensuring the child’s college education and the wherewithal for them to open a sari-sari store. But it was also a moment rich in irony, taking place as it did at the crowded Dr. Jose Fabella Memorial Hospital, a veritable “factory” where hundreds upon hundreds of babies are delivered daily, and as close to an epitome of the bursting-at-the-seams quality of a state-funded Philippine medical facility as it can get.
Still, as pleasant an occasion as the birth of Danica May was, health officials were correct to call attention to the more urgent meaning of the seven-billion mark: the terrible strain on available food, water, energy and shelter; the certain effects of untrammeled exploitation of the planet’s natural resources; the worrisome scenarios that could result from a population explosion, including crowded megacities and depleted resources. A grim prospect but all too conceivable; a necessary assessment, and not merely a cynical exercise in raining on Danica May’s parade.
Elsewhere, UN Secretary General Ban Ki-moon was eloquent in pointing out the “terrible contradictions” in a world of seven billion: “Plenty of food, but still a billion people going to bed hungry every night. Many people enjoy luxurious lifestyles, but still many people are impoverished.” (It calls to mind how, in order to “right” skewed prices of grain, the US government would destroy tons of the staple when halfway across the globe thousands of people in Sub-Saharan Africa were starving.) Ban went on to list the needs of seven billion people, all non-negotiable: “[E]nough food. Enough energy. Good opportunities in life for jobs and education. Rights and freedoms. The freedom to speak. The freedom to raise their children in peace and security.”
Can the government assure Danica May and the tens of thousands of infants since born after her that these needs would be sufficiently met? In the fight for resources, even now waged by grimy children sent by their parents to the streets to beg, are they guaranteed to have enough to eat? Will they be saved when the effects of climate change vis-à-vis population growth come home to roost?
Those who would dismiss the fundamental importance of responsible (because informed) parenthood as a key to checking population growth and ultimately saving the planet would do well to heed the UN chief’s poignant message. There is, after all, no dearth of images both here and abroad to help one reach the conclusion that it’s later than anyone thinks.
Climate change is upon us, as indicated by the magnitude of the recent floods that inundated Bulacan, Pampanga and other provinces in Central Luzon, which also showed the results of human encroachment on river systems and other waterways. Overseas, in the United States whose government still refuses to commit to the reduction of greenhouse gases, the startling snowstorm that knocked out power and crippled its northeastern section showed how the seasons could suddenly change—to disastrous effect.