Hungary’s Fertility Experiment: IVF Dreams and Loan Burdens
Sitting on a park bench in Debrecen, Barbara Elek checks her e‑mail nervously as she and her husband Levi wait for the result of a third IVF cycle. The couple, in their early thirties, had taken an interest‑free loan of 10 million forints (about £25 000) from a government programme that promised financial rewards in exchange for having two children.
When the embryo they had implanted failed to survive, Barbara said, “It’s horrible, just horrible.” Levi, holding her hand, echoed the sentiment by expressing how the promised incentive was left unfulfilled and their future financial stability suddenly in danger.
Their case is not unique. The Hungarian National Bank reports that one‑fifth of couples who took the loans five years ago had not gone on to have children, and the new government is reviewing what should happen when people borrow money with the expectation of children that never materialise.
Hungary’s pronatalist policies were introduced by former prime minister Viktor Orbán in 2010 as a reaction to a demographic crisis. The package included tax cuts, interest‑free loans, mortgage subsidies, and even bonuses for buying a larger car or renovating a home. These incentives were only available to married, heterosexual couples with formal jobs.
The first wave of policies helped push the nation’s fertility rate from 1.25 in 2010 to 1.59 by 2020. However, the rate fell again to 1.31 in 2025, a trend resembling that seen in the Czech Republic and other Eastern European countries that did not implement similar policies.
Experts argue that cash incentives, while attractive, are insufficient on their own. Tomas Sobotka, a demographer from the Vienna Institute of Demography, said the policies “only nudged a cohort who would have had children anyway, pushing them a year or two earlier.” In contrast, the costs of care—childcare, flexible work, and health services—are often the real barriers.
In Hungary, access to childcare improved, but many women still felt that institutions were inadequate. Fodor’s study showed that 21 middle‑class women view the debt paid for a one‑time bonus as a short‑lived windfall rather than a future investment in child‑rearing.
Some researchers point to the cultural context. In southern Korea, a similar family‑friendly package exists, yet the fertility rate continues to decline. Carney, a senior fellow at the AEI, argues that it is not just the financial package but the broader cultural norms regarding gender roles that influence the decision to have children.
The new Hungarian leader, Peter Magyar, has not moved against Orbán’s initiative, and the government released 5 % of GDP for family benefits. Yet interviews with families like Barbara and Levi suggest that substantial policy reforms are needed to address the underlying social and economic realities that deter people from starting families.
Hungary’s story of hope, disappointment, and the limits of economic incentives is a cautionary tale for other nations grappling with declining birth rates. It underlines the need for policy that goes beyond subsidies to build resilient, family‑friendly infrastructures and a cultural climate in which having children is truly valued and supported.
