Malta’s Baby Bust: Finance Minister Declares Low Fertility ‘Greatest Challenge of Our Time’

Watch: Malta’s low fertility is ‘greatest challenge of our time’ – Clyde Caruana
By Hot Malta Staff

Finance Minister Clyde Caruana pulled no punches on Monday evening when he told a packed Valletta conference that Malta’s collapsing birth-rate is “the greatest challenge of our time—bigger than any budget deficit, bigger than the price of gas.”
Speaking at the launch of the National Fertility Strategy 2024-2030, screened live on TVM, Caruana warned that if the current trajectory continues the islands will “cross the point of no return” within 15 years.
“We are the fastest-ageing society in the EU,” he said, gesturing to a slide showing Maltese women now averaging 1.05 children—barely half the 2.1 replacement level. “Every empty cradle today is an empty classroom tomorrow, an empty office in 20 years, and an empty pension pot in 40.”

The numbers are stark. Since 2008 live births have fallen 35 % while the over-65 cohort has swollen 48 %. By 2040, Eurostat projects one Maltese resident in three will be pensionable.
Caruana’s blunt rhetoric marks a shift for a government that has long touted record employment and GDP growth. “We can keep building towers, but if there’s no one to live in them we’re just stacking concrete mausoleums,” he said, earning a ripple of nervous laughter from the audience of nurses, teachers, unionists and parish priests.

Local context: babies, balconies and the ‘kullħadd’ mentality
Malta’s fertility slide is not for want of tradition. For decades the archipelago prided itself on sprawling extended families—summer festa picnics where cousins cascaded over limestone balconies like bougainvillea.
Yet the same culture that venerates children also venerates property. Notaries report couples postponing childbirth until they secure a €400,000 flat—an Everest on the average €26,000 wage.
“Rent is €900 for a two-bed in Msida. Add car-loan repayments and you’re already underwater,” explains 31-year-old pharmacist Rebecca Vella, who recently froze her eggs rather than risk “bringing a baby into a garage.”
Grandparents, once the childcare cavalry, are themselves working longer; the pension age rises to 65 next year. “Mum can’t mind two toddlers when she’s still scanning items at Lidl,” Vella shrugs.

Policy pivot: from cheques to “culture change”
Previous administrations threw money at the problem: 2018’s “€300 baby bonus” and 2021’s €10,000 interest-free loan for first-time parents. Uptick: negligible.
The new strategy pivots to what Caruana calls “wrap-around parenthood”:
• A €5 daily after-school club fee nationwide, saving parents €400 a month.
• A €200 monthly “flexi-benefit” that can be swapped for reduced hours, remote work or IVF injections.
• A “father quota” doubling paternity leave to four weeks paid at 90 % salary.
• Fast-track adoption within 18 months instead of the current five-year limbo.
Crucially, employers who hit 5 % year-on-year birth-rate among staff will receive a 10 % corporate-tax rebate. “We want CEOs to ask not ‘Will she come back from maternity?’ but ‘How do we make sure she does?’” Caruana said.

Church, cafés and the court of public opinion
Outside the conference, reactions were mixed.
At Café Cordina, 68-year-old Toni z-Ziju lamented young people’s “selfishness”. “We had five kids in a Ħamrun flat with one bathroom. They want en-suite before embryo.”
But 29-year-old gamer-cum-delivery-driver Kurt Attard fired back on TikTok: “Toni paid Lm700 for that flat. That’s €1,600 today—try finding a rabbit hutch for that.”
Even the Church, historically pro-natalist, concedes timing matters. “We cannot simply preach openness to life; we must build a civilisation of time—time for parents to breathe,” Auxiliary Bishop Joe Galea-Curmi told Times of Malta.

Community impact: schools, bands, bakeries
In rural Żejtun, primary head Mariella Brincat is already merging classes. “We’ve gone from 90 to 52 seven-year-olds in five years. If the band club can’t recruit saxophonists, the village festa loses its marċ,” she warns.
Meanwhile, private IVF clinics are booming—three opened since 2020—but success rates hover at 28 % for women over 35. “We’re becoming a nation that imports embryos and exports grandparents,” one nurse whispered.

Conclusion: Malta’s future is a nursery, not a spreadsheet
Caruana ended his address with a rare personal note, recalling his mother raising four children on a dockyard wage. “The difference was she had hope—cheap housing, stable job, neighbours who babysat for free. Policy can’t buy love, but it can buy time, space and dignity.”
Whether the islands can rediscover that communal spirit will determine if the iconic Maltese balcony is draped with washing—or with for-sale signs. For now, the lullaby of Malta’s future is playing to an ever-quieter nursery. The next move, says Caruana, is ours.