The post-World War II period will likely be remembered as one of the most successful chapters in human history. Out of the devastation of global conflict came the emergence of international institutions, economic rebuilding, technological breakthroughs, and a massive expansion in public education and healthcare. Most importantly, we experienced an extended era of relative peace — at least in the developed world.
This peace dividend enabled societies to focus on growth. The global population more than tripled, rising from around 2.5 billion in 1950 to over 8 billion today. Living standards improved. Productivity soared. And with declining mortality and fertility control only slowly taking hold, the world entered what now looks like an unsustainable demographic boom.
But success, as I’ve argued before, often contains the seeds of its own unravelling.
The burden of prosperity
Today’s most pressing crises — climate change, housing shortages, geopolitical unrest, and social fragmentation — are, in part, byproducts of that prolonged success. The infrastructure built during the 20th century was never designed to accommodate billions more people, especially in a world undergoing environmental degradation, political polarisation, and technological disruption.
Of course, it would be simplistic to blame everything on population growth alone. In my article Why does history keep producing wars despite our desire for peace? I explored how cyclical power dynamics and resource competition continue to drive conflict. Population pressures merely act as an accelerant in systems already under strain.
And while birth rates are now declining in much of the developed world — and even in China — the global population is still growing, with the UN projecting a peak of around 10.4 billion near the end of this century. But beneath that peak lies a sharp divergence: some regions are ageing rapidly, while others are still booming demographically.
A world of uneven futures
Many Western nations, along with Japan, South Korea and China, are entering a phase of demographic contraction. Fertility rates are below replacement level. Life expectancy is rising. The result is a growing imbalance between young and old — and an economic system struggling to adapt.
This ageing trend is not just a healthcare issue; it touches nearly every sector. Shrinking workforces increase pressure on pensions and social services. Labour shortages emerge in key industries. Economic growth slows. The balance between productive and dependent population groups shifts, prompting difficult policy questions about immigration, automation, and social support.
At the same time, regions like sub-Saharan Africa and parts of the Middle East are seeing explosive population growth. Nigeria, for example, could have over half a billion people by 2100 — potentially becoming the third-largest country in the world. But will its governance structures, economy, and digital infrastructure be ready for that reality?
These global imbalances are already producing ripple effects, particularly in migration and international stability. But climate change will further intensify them. Flooding, heatwaves, and drought will displace millions — particularly in vulnerable regions like the Pacific, South Asia, and the Sahel — while opening new opportunities for agriculture and settlement in parts of Canada, Alaska, and Russia.
The innovation challenge
In The hidden dangers of technological stagnation — and why there is still hope, I warned that we may be underestimating the risks of slowing innovation at a time when adaptation is most needed. This becomes especially clear in the context of ageing societies.
The assumption that AI and robotics can simply replace the shrinking workforce is optimistic at best. While these technologies will play a vital role, they cannot easily replicate the interpersonal care, emotional labour, and local knowledge needed in fields like aged care, community health, or education.
Furthermore, technological transformation often leaves older populations behind. As explored in Digital exclusion: a new form of ageism?, the shift to digital-only services risks marginalising seniors — many of whom struggle with access, literacy, or trust in digital tools. From banking and government services to healthcare and communication, exclusion from the digital world increasingly equates to exclusion from society.
We must recognise that innovation isn’t just about speed or automation — it’s also about inclusiveness, interoperability, and ethical design.
Social cohesion under strain
The demographic shift also affects social cohesion and political stability. In rapidly ageing societies, cultural rifts can grow between generations with very different needs, expectations, and digital capabilities. As I observed in ‘Adolescence’ exposes the danger of digital dysfunction, young people are already suffering under the pressure of algorithmic platforms and fractured online realities. Meanwhile, many older citizens are being digitally and socially left behind.
This dual disconnection — of youth and age alike — creates fertile ground for discontent. The resurgence of populist movements in many Western countries taps into these underlying anxieties, offering simplistic answers to complex challenges. Donald Trump’s erratic political return is one example of a broader global trend. While his policies may gain traction in the short term, they offer no solutions to the deeper structural issues around ageing, inequality, or technological resilience.
A future beyond growth
Demographers broadly agree that we’re approaching the peak of the human population, and that a long-term decline will follow. Some projections even suggest that by 2200, global population could return to levels closer to those of the mid-20th century. This would alleviate some environmental pressures, but only if our economies and social systems are redesigned to function under entirely different conditions.
We will need to rethink productivity, community, and interdependence in fundamental ways. Ageing doesn’t have to be a crisis — it can become an opportunity to slow down, share knowledge, and create more compassionate models of work and care. But this requires investment not only in new technologies, but also in inclusive systems and forward-looking governance.
Conclusion
We stand at the end of a long cycle — one powered by growth, globalisation, and demographic expansion. What comes next will be shaped not by how much we grow, but by how wisely we adapt. That means recognising the limits of past models, investing in inclusive innovation, and reimagining what it means to thrive in an ageing, unequal, and climate-affected world.
If we fail to prepare, instability will rise. But if we act with clarity and foresight, the end of this growth cycle may well mark the beginning of something more sustainable — and more human.
Paul Budde