NEW YORK: In the realm of welfare economics, a Pareto improvement is a hallowed concept, denoting a change that enhances the well-being of all members of society - or at the very least, leaves none worse off than before.
When one applies this lofty ideal to China’s recent decision to halt international adoptions, it becomes clear that such a move falls woefully short of even the most lenient interpretation of a Pareto improvement.
The repercussions of this decree affect many. Prospective adoptive families, having nurtured dreams of parenthood for years and invested princely sums ranging from US$25,000 to US$40,000, now find their aspirations cruelly dashed.
The children - many of whom are orphaned and grappling with special needs - are suddenly denied the promise of a nurturing family and the prospect of a more auspicious future. State orphanages, once buoyed by substantial donations from adopting families, now face a dwindling ability to enrol new charges and enhance their services.
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China halting foreign adoptions has 'no impact' on Singapore families: MSF WHAT’S BEHIND CHINA’S DECISION?In rationalising the government’s decision, Russia’s 2013 moratorium on international adoptions is often cited as an example, suggesting China’s move may be in consonance with a global trend that restricts international adoption.
The parallels are undeniably striking: Both countries inaugurated their programmes in the early 1990s; both witnessed a peak in adoption rates circa 2004-2005, subsequently imposing more stringent regulations; and in both instances, the adoption process was renowned for its complexity and pecuniary demands.
Yet, the disparities are equally conspicuous. Unlike Russia, China’s international adoptions never eclipsed domestic placements, with the apex in 2005 constituting only a quarter of all adoptions.
China’s programme rarely incurred negative publicity, either domestically or in the United States. Moreover, China’s decision to curtail adoptions was not precipitated by well-publicised tragic incidents, as was the case with Russia.
President Vladimir Putin’s 2013 ukase proscribing American families from adopting Russian-born children, the Dima Yakovlev law, was named after a 21-month-old Russian boy who died in the US after his adoptive father accidentally left him in a parked car for nine hours.
Perhaps more salient, however, is the notion that Russia’s decision may have been more a product of realpolitik. It is widely accepted that the Russian adoption ban was a direct retaliatory measure against the 2012 US Magnitsky Act, which imposed financial sanctions and visa restrictions on Russian officials implicated in human rights violations. In essence, the Kremlin wielded the adoption issue as a bargaining chip to compel the US to rescind sanctions against Russian apparatchiks.
This begs the question: What truly underpins China’s decision?
Since China opened its doors to international adoptions in 1992, about 160,000 children have been adopted by foreigners. With a 1.4 billion population, those adoptions do not meaningfully alter China's demographic landscape, making it an unconvincing basis for any policy changes.
If the genuine concern revolves around some form of child trafficking perpetrated by state orphanages, why not simply interdict these institutions from levying exorbitant fees on adoptive families, and implement efficacious measures to facilitate domestic adoption?
After all, given the paucity of Chinese families willing to adopt children with special needs, a blanket ban effectively condemns most of them to a childhood of institutionalisation, followed by an adulthood for which they may be ill-prepared, lacking the support structures and familial bonds that international adoption might have provided. This sobering reality not only exacerbates the burden on state orphanages in providing requisite care and services but also raises profound questions about the long-term social and economic costs.
ESCALATING CHINA-US TENSIONSTo the extent that the Russian case illuminates the political underpinnings of programme termination, a more plausible explanation for China’s foreign adoption ban lies in escalating Sino-American geopolitical tensions and Beijing’s pivot towards a security-centric policy paradigm.
Under this interpretation, the rationale behind China’s decision to halt international adoptions aligns with its reluctance to share genetic data and its efforts to replace Western tech with domestic options.
The crux of the matter lies in the precipitous decline of bilateral trust between the US and China since around 2018. The COVID-19 pandemic only aggravated this trust deficit, catalysing efforts to oversecuritise - a tendency to frame every policy issue as an existential threat to national security, thereby justifying extraordinary measures. This emergent trend has fostered a “looking-glass” effect, wherein perceived securitisation in one nation engenders analogous responses from its rivals.
As the US moves to safeguard its semiconductor industry, supply chains and biotechnology sector, China’s apprehension intensifies. This anxiety may compel China to securitise previously benign policy domains, such as international adoption, in an attempt to mitigate perceived vulnerabilities.
Indeed, prior to the adoption ban, myriad narratives on Chinese media extolled the altruism and sacrifice of American families who adopted Chinese children with special needs. The juxtaposition between China’s perceived inability to care for disabled orphans and the success stories of these children raised in the US could potentially be leveraged by Washington or “hostile forces” to critique China’s system and bolster American soft power.
As an article published in Guancha.cn, a popular Chinese news site noted for its pro-government and West-skeptical views, observed when justifying the government’s decision, the cases of adopted children achieving success “are often over-interpreted by those with ulterior motives, using them as material to praise the United States”.
This oversecuritisation may also explain the rigidity of China’s decision on international adoption. In the aftermath of Russia’s 2013 adoption ban, the US Department of State successfully negotiated for about 250 children, whose adoptions were already in progress, to join their prospective families. Thus far, the Chinese government has not exhibited such flexibility, despite impassioned entreaties from American families with pending adoptions in China.
Compounding this issue is the discordant response from American society: While many Chinese citizens express regret and incomprehension regarding their government’s decision, some observers and commentators - including those who have traditionally been critical of the Chinese government - tend to view it as a natural corollary of the cessation of population control policies or a crucial step in terminating a legalised form of child trafficking. Meanwhile, others highlight the challenges of identity and belonging faced by children, especially when they are placed in families and cultures that differ significantly from their own.
A foreign journalist, herself an adoptee, described feeling “cathartic” upon seeing China’s international adoptions end.
In the absence of a unified voice in responding to the decision, not only is there a dearth of concern for the fate of more than 50,000 children in Chinese state orphanages, but few American politicians are willing to advocate on behalf of adoptive families. This fragmentation of support further undermines the capacity of US Department of State officials to broker an agreement with Beijing to allow pending adoptions to be completed.
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Commentary: The whole world risks losing from the US-China rivalry WHAT ABOUT THE CHILDREN?While geopolitical tensions and security concerns may have played a significant role in China’s decision to end international adoptions, the human impact of this policy shift cannot be overstated. Aimee Welch, who has a pending adoption in China, eloquently captures the humanitarian aspect of this issue in an email to this author:
“Whatever political differences exist between our countries, uniting children in need with loving families is something we can all agree on. It’s a separate humanitarian issue and resolving it is a win-win for China, the US and waiting children. It would be such a small thing for a country as powerful as China to allow these children to be united with the families who promised to come for them, but it would be such an enormous gift to each of the children involved.”
Welch’s words serve as a poignant reminder that beyond the complex web of international relations and security considerations, there are real families and children whose lives hang in the balance. Her plea to allow pending adoptions to proceed highlights the disconnect between high-level policy decisions and their profound impact on individual lives.
As this situation continues to unfold, it remains to be seen whether humanitarian concerns can transcend the growing geopolitical divide, or if these children will remain unwitting pawns in a global game they neither chose nor comprehend.
Dr Huang Yanzhong is Senior Fellow for Global Health at the Council on Foreign Relations and professor at Seton Hall University’s School in Diplomacy and International Relations in New Jersey.bet168