What Is Depopulation, Really? By Adeline Atlas
May 28, 2025
Welcome back. I’m Adeline Atlas, 11-time published author, and this is the Depopulation Series — Are We the Last Biological Humans?
Depopulation. It’s a word that’s been weaponized, misunderstood, and in many cases, completely dismissed. Some hear it and think conspiracy. Others hear it and think it doesn’t apply to them. But what most people don’t realize is that depopulation isn’t something that might happen in the future. It’s happening right now—and not in some far-off, abstract way, but in a slow, measurable, irreversible collapse of biological human reproduction. The kind that doesn’t make headlines until it’s already too late.
This video is not about fear. It’s about facts. We’re going to define what depopulation really is, separate myth from reality, and explore why the story of humanity is shifting from one of growth to one of decline. Not because humanity is dying—but because biological humanity is being phased out. And more importantly, because no one in power seems ready to stop it.
We begin with a critical clarification. When we say depopulation, we’re not referring to some apocalyptic extinction event where everyone vanishes overnight. We’re not talking about war or disease wiping out billions. We’re not talking about genocide. What we’re talking about is the systematic and accelerating decline of natural, biological, human reproduction. We’re talking about the end of life created through unassisted, unengineered birth. And that kind of depopulation doesn’t look like a collapse. It looks like a slow fade.
To understand what’s happening, you need to understand how the modern world was built. Every major institution—from education to healthcare to the global economy—was designed on the assumption that there would always be more people. More babies. More students. More workers. More consumers. Growth was never optional—it was baked into the very structure of civilization. And when growth stops, that structure begins to crack.
This is exactly what we’re seeing now. Fertility rates are dropping so fast, and in so many places, that governments are entering demographic freefall. The numbers are staggering. In South Korea, the fertility rate has dropped to 0.72—the lowest in recorded history. China is experiencing a population collapse so severe it has lost over 10% of its births in a single year. In Japan, adult diapers have outsold baby diapers since 2011. In the United States, the fertility rate now sits at 1.64, far below the replacement level of 2.1. Globally, by 2040, over 60% of people will live in countries where the population is shrinking or stagnant.
This isn’t speculation. It’s the quiet arithmetic of extinction.
And one of the few public figures willing to call it out has been Elon Musk. While the media often fixates on his comments about space travel or AI, his repeated warnings about birth collapse have gone largely ignored. In 2022, he stated bluntly: “Population collapse due to low birth rates is a much bigger risk to civilization than global warming.” He’s not wrong. Because as it turns out, the biggest threat to the future isn’t overcrowding—it’s under-birth.
For decades, we were fed a narrative of overpopulation. We were told there would be too many people and not enough resources. We were shown images of crowded cities, starving children, environmental destruction, and warned that humanity was breeding itself into ruin. But those projections were based on 1960s models that didn’t account for rising education levels, urbanization, changing gender roles, delayed marriages, or the global chemical onslaught of endocrine disruptors. What actually happened is that the opposite came true.
Instead of having too many children, we stopped having them at all.
The myth of overpopulation has had serious consequences. It justified population control policies like China’s One-Child Policy, which led to the disappearance of 400 million potential lives and now leaves the country with a collapsing labor force and millions of aging citizens with no one to care for them. It fueled a cultural shift in which having children came to be seen as irresponsible, selfish, or even dangerous for the planet. And now, even as the data screams collapse, many still cling to the outdated idea that fewer people is somehow good.
But who exactly is disappearing?
This is where it gets critical to be precise. What’s vanishing is not humanity in general—but biological humans. People born through natural reproduction. People conceived without artificial inputs, grown in utero, delivered without digital augmentation. That form of life—the form that’s existed for hundreds of thousands of years—is now becoming rare. Because today, reproduction is not just declining. It’s being outsourced.
This is what we mean when we say the biological human is being phased out. New technologies are being developed not to support natural reproduction, but to replace it. Artificial wombs like EctoLife. Lab-grown gametes made from stem cells. CRISPR gene editing that allows embryos to be pre-designed for intelligence, athleticism, or resistance to disease. AI-generated children in virtual environments for childless adults. These are not ideas in development. These are prototypes, patents, and pilot programs already underway.
And the question no one is asking is: if we can build children, do we still need to birth them?
From a purely utilitarian standpoint, the answer might be no. Artificial reproduction offers control. Predictability. Elimination of genetic disorders. Optimization of traits. But from a human standpoint, the implications are profound. Once life is built, not born, it becomes subject to industrial logic. Life becomes a product. And biology—messy, emotional, unpredictable biology—becomes a liability.
This is not about scaring you. It’s about preparing you. Because when reproduction becomes technology, the criteria for who gets to reproduce will change. It already is. Access to fertility treatment is tied to income, social status, and government policy. In some countries, the state already determines who can receive IVF, who qualifies for embryo freezing, and what traits are permissible for selection. And as artificial reproduction becomes more common, it’s not hard to imagine a future where birth is regulated, not celebrated.
Meanwhile, the cultural messaging around family is shifting. More people are choosing not to have children—not because they can’t, but because they don’t see the point. Career, freedom, travel, self-optimization—these have become the dominant values. Parenthood is framed as a burden. Children as obstacles. And in some circles, to desire a family is to be seen as backwards.
This is what makes depopulation so hard to fight. It isn’t enforced through violence. It’s enforced through values. Through invisible shifts in what people want, expect, and prioritize. And once those values become entrenched, the collapse becomes self-reinforcing. Fewer children means fewer families. Fewer families means weaker community. Weaker community means more isolation. More isolation means less desire for family. And the cycle continues.
So who benefits from this?
That’s the next logical question—and it deserves serious attention. If declining birth rates are a threat to civilization, why aren’t governments doing more to reverse the trend? Why do policies to support families remain so weak, so late, and so inconsistent?
Part of the answer is economic. In the short term, fewer children mean fewer social costs. Governments save on education, healthcare, housing. Corporations save on maternity leave, childcare subsidies, and work-life accommodations. And as we enter an age of automation, companies no longer need large populations to sustain profit. Robots don’t take parental leave. AI doesn’t need school.
But there’s a darker possibility too: that depopulation isn’t a crisis being ignored—it’s a trajectory being managed. Quietly, deliberately, through a combination of policy, media, and technology. Not through conspiracy, but through convergence. A world with fewer biological humans is easier to track, easier to modify, and easier to manage.
This is not to say that there’s a global plan to erase natural humans. But the conditions for that erasure are being normalized. And what we see, again and again, is that the future being built does not include the legacy model of the human body. It includes the upgraded one. The synthetic one. The one that can be stored, copied, cloned, and backed up.
And this brings us full circle to why this series exists.
Depopulation is not just a statistic. It’s not just about fewer babies. It’s about the end of a chapter in human history. The chapter where life begins in a womb, is nurtured in a family, and continues through reproduction. That chapter is closing. And the next one is not about survival. It’s about substitution.
The last biological humans are alive right now. They are us. The generation born without edits. Without implants. Without synthetic DNA. And unless something changes dramatically, we will be the last of our kind.
That doesn’t mean humanity will disappear. It means it will be redesigned. And whether that redesign is progress or catastrophe—that’s what we’ll explore in the rest of this series.
Because this isn’t about fear. It’s about clarity.
It’s about understanding the trajectory we’re on, before we reach the point of no return.
And most of all—it’s about remembering what it means to be born human, in a world that is slowly forgetting.