By Sunil Garodia
First publised on 2026-05-18 13:18:14
The Andhra Pradesh government wants to pay families Rs 30,000 for a third child and â¹40,000 for a fourth. On paper, this is a response to a genuine problem. The state's fertility rate has dropped to around 1.5 children per couple and is projected to fall further to 1.2 by 2040, well below the replacement level of 2.1. An ageing population, a shrinking workforce, and a looming care crisis are not imaginary fears. Chandrababu Naidu is not crying wolf.
Nor, to be fair, is he alone. Governments across the developed world, from South Korea to Hungary to Italy, are grappling with the same demographic arithmetic: collapsing worker-to-retiree ratios, spiralling eldercare costs, and the spectre of East Asian-style stagnation where even aggressive pronatalist spending has barely moved the needle. A government that watches its fertility rate slide toward 1.2 and does nothing would be failing its citizens. Reasonable people can disagree on what to do. Cash incentives for larger families are not, by themselves, an absurd policy response.
But in India, and specifically in Andhra Pradesh in 2026, this particular policy cannot be read in isolation from a particular political context. When you place it there, it looks rather different.
For decades, southern India did exactly what the Indian state asked of it. It educated its women. It invested in public health. It brought down infant mortality and internalised, genuinely and at scale, the logic of the small family. Kerala and Tamil Nadu achieved fertility rates of 1.8 and 1.7 respectively, numbers that most developing nations would envy. Andhra Pradesh was not far behind. Hum Do Hamare Do was not just a slogan in the south. It was how people actually lived. The north, by and large, did not follow.
The reward for all this civic discipline was political punishment.
Southern states contribute disproportionately to India's GDP. Tamil Nadu accounts for roughly 8.4% of national output while holding just 6.5% of the population. Yet because Lok Sabha seats remain frozen on 1971 Census data, any future delimitation will reward states that grew faster, not states that governed better. Projections across multiple studies consistently show the five southern states losing between 24 and 27 seats under a population-based reapportionment, while Uttar Pradesh alone could gain as many seats as the combined losses of Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka, and Kerala.
The Constitution (131st Amendment) Bill, which sought to break this freeze, was voted down in the Lok Sabha on April 17, 2026, failing to secure the required two-thirds majority. Its defeat does not solve anything. It simply defers the reckoning. The demographic penalty - the cruel irony that responsible governance is electorally self-defeating - is still baked into the system.
Read Naidu's incentive scheme against that backdrop, and it looks rather different from a welfare measure. The policy risks turning women's reproductive choices into instruments in a larger representational contest - one where Andhra's anxieties about its shrinking parliamentary footprint, not the wellbeing of families, provide the real political energy.
The gender dimension sharpens this concern. A TDP MP from Vizianagaram, with the Chief Minister's public approval, announced at an International Women's Day event that a third child would earn the mother Rs 50,000 if it was a girl and a cow if it was a boy. The differential valuation of children by sex, the cheerful instrumentalisation of gender on a day meant to celebrate women's dignity, and the performative populism of the gesture together say something important about the moral seriousness underneath the welfare framing.
The deepest problem, however, is structural. When a policy framework produces a perverse outcome, the right answer is to fix the framework, not to create an equal and opposite perversity. The 84th Amendment froze Lok Sabha seats to incentivise population control. It worked in the south and failed in the north, producing exactly the imbalance it was meant to prevent. The honest fix is a delimitation formula that does not treat raw headcount as the only measure of representation, one that weights development outcomes, or at the very least, does not penalise states for doing what the national government spent decades asking them to do. That is a harder political conversation, but it is the necessary one.
Naidu is a pragmatist. He has survived Indian politics long enough to know that the ideal and the possible rarely coincide. But some things should remain outside the reach of policy. If India's federal compact punishes demographic responsibility, the Constitution must be repaired. Women should not be recruited to repair it with their bodies.
The lead image was created with AI










