My glimpse into a childless world

If you are looking for a pointer for the future of the world, the free-diving fisherwomen on the matriarchal, shamanistic South Korean island of Jeju are not an obvious example of where we’re heading. Because the haenyeo are famously unique. And famously hardy. But what is happening to them should concern us all.

In simple wetsuits they spend hours in the cold, clear waters, seeking out sea slugs, oysters, conches and abalone. They are fiercely independent – they spearheaded resistance to the Japanese in the 1930s and 1940s. But here’s the thing, as Nari (age 70) tells me in the haenyeo’s coastal mud-room: ‘We are probably the last. We have been diving since the men went to war in the 18th century, but maybe no one will do this in 20 years’ time.’

I have never been to a sizeable town which is so eerily and unnervingly quiet, car-free and people-less

The stats bear out her pessimism. In the 1960s there were around 20,000 haenyeo; now there are just 2,000 or so. The vast majority are over 50. Only 20-odd girls began haenyeo training last year. The decline isn’t just because this diving is hard (although it is also lucrative). It is because Jeju, like the rest of Korea – indeed, the rest of Asia and pretty soon most of the world – is swiftly ageing and will soon start depopulating.

The median age of Jeju – population 600,000 – is 58. For contrast, in Britain it is 40, in the USA 39 and in wider Korea 45. This is partly because Jeju, with its fine beaches and clean air, attracts retirees, but also because no one is having children. In Jeju, the total fertility rate is around 0.9 – less than one child per woman – when the replacement rate is 2.1.