Welcome back. I’m Adeline Atlas, 11-time published author, and this is the Depopulation Series — Are We the Last Biological Humans?

Today’s video explores one of the most overlooked, yet arguably most important, questions in the global fertility crisis: what role does belief play in the decision to reproduce? And more pointedly, is the collapse in birth rates across the developed world really a biological problem—or is it a spiritual one?

This video is not about theology. It’s about meaning. About what happens to a civilization when its citizens stop believing in the future—because they’ve stopped believing in anything beyond themselves. We call this the Religious Decline Hypothesis, and it proposes something radical: that the real reason advanced societies aren’t reproducing has less to do with economics or biology—and more to do with belief.

Let’s start with what the data tells us. Over the last 50 years, there’s been a consistent, global pattern: as religiosity declines, so does fertility. Countries with the highest rates of secularism also have some of the lowest birth rates on Earth. And this isn’t a fluke. It holds true across continents, languages, income brackets, and even political systems.

Consider Sweden, Norway, and Denmark—wealthy, peaceful, and socially liberal countries. Their birth rates all hover well below the replacement level of 2.1 children per woman. Church attendance in these countries is among the lowest in the world. Belief in God, religious authority, or divine purpose has steadily declined for decades. And while these nations provide free childcare, extended parental leave, and generous welfare support, none of that has reversed the fertility freefall. If having kids were simply about money or time, these countries would be having a baby boom. But they’re not.

Now contrast that with Israel. Despite geopolitical conflict, high living costs, mandatory military service, and a constant threat of war, Israel has one of the highest fertility rates in the developed world. Orthodox Jewish communities in particular have birth rates exceeding 6 or 7 children per woman. But even secular Israelis average nearly three children per family. What explains the difference?

In a word: belief. In Israel, the continuation of the family line, the people, the tradition, and the faith is seen as a national and spiritual duty. Children aren’t just loved—they’re needed. They’re part of something bigger than personal ambition. And that sense of purpose carries across generations.

We see a similar pattern in the United States. Though overall fertility has dropped below replacement, religious Americans—especially those who attend church weekly—still reproduce at significantly higher rates than secular Americans. Devout Catholics, Evangelical Christians, Orthodox Jews, and observant Muslims all report larger family sizes. Religion, it turns out, consistently predicts reproductive behavior.

Why? Because belief does more than just set moral standards—it shapes worldviews. Religion instills a long-term perspective. It teaches sacrifice, continuity, legacy, and the idea that life has meaning beyond the material. Parenthood is framed not as a burden, but as a blessing. Children aren’t lifestyle accessories—they are souls entrusted by God. That worldview produces different decisions.

Secular societies, by contrast, often treat children as an optional feature of adult life—something to be done after financial goals are met, if ever. Without the backdrop of eternal purpose, parenting becomes a choice measured against convenience, career, travel, personal growth, and economic freedom. And in that equation, fewer people are choosing it.

Let’s look at Japan. One of the most secular nations on Earth, with a rapidly aging population and one of the lowest fertility rates globally—around 1.3 children per woman. Japan’s government has spent billions trying to reverse this trend. Tax breaks, child subsidies, dating apps sponsored by municipalities—it’s all been tried. Nothing works. Why? Because Japanese society has largely lost the cultural and spiritual narrative that once made family a central pillar. Marriage is in decline. Loneliness is rising. A staggering number of young adults report no interest in dating, sex, or children. The problem isn’t just economic. It’s existential.

This brings us to the heart of the Religious Decline Hypothesis: the idea that birth is not just a biological or financial event—it’s a philosophical one. People reproduce when they believe life is good, meaningful, and worth extending. When that belief erodes, reproduction becomes less desirable—and eventually, unnecessary.

This is not about forcing religion back into politics. It’s not an argument for theocracy or moral policing. It’s about recognizing that meaning matters. And when a society loses its shared story—its guiding narrative about why we’re here and what we’re doing—then creating the next generation begins to feel optional. Or worse, irresponsible.

In ancient cultures, fertility was sacred. Entire religious rituals were dedicated to childbirth, parenting, and family protection. The gods themselves were seen as creators of life, and having children was participation in that divine act. Fast forward to modern secularism, and creation is no longer seen as sacred—it’s seen as disruptive.

We tell young people today that the world is overpopulated, that climate change makes reproduction selfish, that parenting ruins careers, and that human beings are parasites on the planet. Is it any wonder that fertility is collapsing?

And while many of these narratives may be rooted in real concerns, they are also deeply demotivating. They present life as a problem, not a gift. And when life is framed as a burden, fewer people choose to continue it.

Now let’s be clear—some people genuinely don’t want children. That’s always been true. But what’s changed is the cultural framing. In prior generations, childbearing was the norm, and exceptions were understood in context. Today, the exception is becoming the expectation. Voluntary childlessness is marketed as freedom. Parenthood is painted as oppressive. And traditional family life is often ridiculed as boring, outdated, or patriarchal.

These shifts coincide with a sharp rise in loneliness, anxiety, depression, and identity confusion—especially among young adults in secular societies. Could it be that the same loss of meaning driving people away from religion is also driving them away from reproduction?

Let’s look at some of the numbers.

A Pew Research study found that among Americans who say religion is “very important” in their lives, 74% want three or more children. Among those who say religion is “not important,” only 20% want that many. A 2022 European report showed that countries with high rates of religious attendance had significantly higher birth rates—even when controlling for income, education, and employment status.

This isn’t a Western phenomenon. In Muslim-majority countries, where religious observance remains high, fertility rates are still well above replacement—though they are beginning to fall as secularism spreads. Iran is a perfect example. Once boasting one of the highest birth rates in the region, it now has one of the lowest. The government is scrambling to reverse the decline, but young Iranians increasingly see family life as unappealing—and religious mandates as unconvincing.

This brings us to an important point: belief cannot be manufactured. It must be lived. And societies that try to impose belief from the top down—without genuine spiritual renewal—usually fail. You cannot legislate purpose. You cannot subsidize soul. And no amount of government policy can replace a shared metaphysical story.

So where does this leave us?

It leaves us with a crisis of faith—not in religion per se, but in the value of life itself. Without a framework that honors creation, celebrates continuity, and sees the next generation as sacred, reproduction will continue to decline. And no amount of technology, cash bonuses, or AI parenting apps will reverse that.

In the long run, demography is destiny. And if current trends hold, the future will be shaped by the communities that still believe in something greater than themselves—whether that belief is religious, cultural, or philosophical. In other words, the reproductive future belongs to those who still see the act of creation as meaningful.

The most alarming aspect of this is that secular societies are not just declining numerically—they are failing to pass on their values. Because when you stop reproducing, your worldview dies with you. That’s not an opinion. That’s arithmetic.

And this is why the Religious Decline Hypothesis matters.

It shows us that population collapse is not just a question of sperm count or egg quality. It’s a question of spirit. Of vision. Of legacy.

In this series, we’ve talked about ectolife pods, synthetic sperm, and digitized consciousness. But beneath all the science lies a simple truth: without belief, biology fails. Without purpose, people perish—not by violence, but by vanishing.

So what do we do?

We ask hard questions. What story are we telling our young people about life? About love? About legacy? What future are we inviting them into? What vision are we offering that makes sacrifice worthwhile?

Because make no mistake—parenting is sacrifice. Raising children is hard. But it’s also holy. And any society that forgets that—whether by accident or ideology—will eventually be replaced by one that remembers.

In closing, we must see depopulation not only as a demographic trend, but as a spiritual one. And if we are truly the last biological humans, we owe it to ourselves—and to whatever comes next—to leave behind more than statistics.

We must leave behind a story worth continuing.

And if we can’t tell that story anymore—if we can’t find the words, or the will—then maybe we’ve already answered the question.

Maybe it’s not just our population that’s collapsing.

Maybe it’s our purpose.