Busan’s student population is plummeting as birth rates hit record lows. Schools are closing, families are leaving, and entire districts face extinction.
Busan, South Korea - In a quiet elementary school in Yeongdo-gu, a first-grade classroom sits empty. The desks, once filled with eager students, remain unoccupied. There is no need for a teacher to call roll or for children to chatter between lessons—because this year, no new students enrolled. This is not an isolated case. Across Busan, nearly 30 elementary schools welcomed fewer than 10 first-grade students this year, marking a troubling milestone in the city’s education system.
Busan, a city that once bustled with children playing in schoolyards and families preparing for the rigorous South Korean education system, is witnessing an alarming demographic shift. While newly developed suburban districts are seeing mild stabilization, older urban neighborhoods are facing a silent but irreversible decline. The reality is clear: there are simply not enough children being born to fill these schools.
According to data from the Busan Metropolitan Office of Education, the number of elementary schools with fewer than 10 incoming first graders has nearly doubled in the past five years. In 2021, there were 16 such schools. By 2025, that number had climbed to 29. Even more alarming, for the past three years, at least one school in Busan has reported zero first-grade students.
This reflects a national trend. South Korea’s total fertility rate—the average number of children a woman is expected to have in her lifetime—fell to 0.72 in 2023, the lowest in the world. In some urban centers, the birth rate is even lower. Busan ranks among the most vulnerable regions, with an increasing number of districts where the fertility rate is closer to 0.6.
For schools, this means inevitable closures and consolidations. But beyond education, these numbers foreshadow an even greater problem: the disappearance of entire communities.
Busan’s “Extinction Risk Index”: A City in Danger
The looming demographic crisis in Busan is not just a reflection of declining birth rates but a stark warning about the city’s very survival. South Korea’s Extinction Risk Index, developed by the Korea Employment Information Service, assesses the long-term viability of a region based on the ratio of women of childbearing age (20–39) to elderly residents (65 and older). A score below 0.5 signals a critical risk of population collapse, indicating that the area may become uninhabitable within a few decades if current trends persist.
For years, Busan thrived as a center of industry, trade, and culture. Now, however, it finds itself on the brink of an irreversible decline. Several of its districts have already entered the extinction risk category, with too few young women to sustain future generations. Yeongdo-gu, Seo-gu, and Dong-gu are among the most severely affected, with fewer than 50 women of childbearing age for every 100 elderly residents. The situation is not much better in Jung-gu and Busanjin-gu, which are rapidly approaching this threshold and are expected to follow the same trajectory within the next decade. Even Saha-gu and Sasang-gu, traditionally considered stable, are beginning to show signs of long-term demographic shrinkage.
This trend extends beyond numbers—it is a reflection of a broader societal transformation. As schools continue to close, young families relocate, and small businesses struggle to survive, these once-thriving communities are being hollowed out. The issue is no longer just about education; Busan is facing an existential challenge. If the decline continues at its current pace, some districts could become effectively uninhabitable within a generation, signaling the disappearance of entire neighborhoods.
Why Are Families Leaving?
The declining number of school-age children is not merely a product of shifting demographics—it is a reflection of the economic realities and lifestyle choices of younger generations. Financial instability, social pressures, and changing cultural values have all played a role in shaping the decisions of young Koreans, many of whom are increasingly choosing not to have children.
One of the most significant barriers to parenthood is the rising cost of living. Although Busan has traditionally been more affordable than Seoul, real estate prices have surged in recent years, making homeownership an unattainable dream for many young couples. Without the stability of a permanent home, the idea of raising children becomes an added financial burden rather than a viable life plan.
Beyond housing, job insecurity also discourages family expansion. The South Korean job market remains highly competitive, with many young workers trapped in precarious contract positions that offer little stability or long-term security. The financial commitment of raising a child—estimated at over 300 million KRW ($225,000) per child—feels overwhelming for those already struggling to secure stable employment.
Shifting cultural norms have further reshaped family structures. The traditional expectation of marriage and childbearing is no longer as dominant as it once was. Many young Koreans, particularly women, are prioritizing career development, travel, and personal fulfillment over starting a family. The DINK (Dual Income, No Kids) lifestyle has gained traction, especially in urban centers like Busan, where personal ambition and financial practicality often outweigh the desire for children.
For those who do choose to become parents, the intense pressure of South Korea’s education system presents another major deterrent. The country’s highly competitive academic culture demands significant time, money, and emotional investment, with many families spending a large portion of their income on private academies (hagwon) and tutoring to ensure their children’s success. This added stress discourages many couples from having multiple children—or any at all.
Despite government efforts to reverse the trend through financial incentives, extended parental leave, and childcare subsidies, the reality remains unchanged. The underlying challenges that dissuade young people from having children—financial hardship, job insecurity, and societal expectations—have yet to be effectively addressed.
The Education System’s Response: Can Schools Survive?
As the student population declines, Busan’s education system faces an existential crisis. Maintaining the current number of schools is becoming financially unsustainable, forcing the Busan Metropolitan Office of Education to make difficult decisions about the future of public education.
One immediate response has been the merging and closure of under-enrolled schools. Schools with consistently low student numbers are being consolidated, with students transferred to nearby institutions. However, this approach has met strong resistance from local communities, who fear that the closure of schools will further accelerate the decline of their neighborhoods. When a school shuts down, it does not just affect students—it signals the weakening of an entire community, driving families and businesses away.
To mitigate the impact, local governments are experimenting with alternative uses for underutilized school buildings. Some districts are repurposing these spaces into community centers, vocational training hubs, or elderly care facilities, ensuring that they continue to serve a purpose beyond education. However, while this solution maximizes efficiency, it does not solve the underlying issue of a shrinking youth population.
Another potential solution involves expanding digital and remote learning initiatives, particularly in low-enrollment districts where maintaining physical schools is no longer viable. By integrating technology-driven education, the city hopes to maintain access to quality learning while adapting to the realities of a declining student base.
Yet, these measures remain short-term solutions. They address the consequences of low birth rates, but not the causes. Without policies that attract and retain young families, Busan’s schools will continue to empty, and more closures will follow.
What Happens When the Students Are Gone?
Schools are not just places of learning; they are the foundation of a thriving community. When a school closes, it is often the first sign of a neighborhood’s decline. Small businesses lose their customer base, local services struggle to remain operational, and residents gradually move away in search of better opportunities elsewhere. This cycle of decline accelerates the population crisis, creating entire districts that are at risk of becoming ghost towns.
If the current trend continues, Busan’s total population is projected to shrink by over one million people by 2040. Some districts may see widespread abandonment of schools, residential buildings, and commercial spaces. The shrinking workforce will place immense strain on economic growth, tax revenue, and social welfare programs, leading to further stagnation.
This is no longer just a challenge for education policymakers—it is a crisis that requires immediate intervention at the economic, social, and governmental levels. The government has acknowledged the urgency of addressing low birth rates, but without bold structural reforms—including affordable housing initiatives, job security measures, and family-friendly urban planning—the country may find itself unable to reverse the trend.
Busan’s empty classrooms are not merely a reflection of demographic decline—they are a warning sign of a shrinking future. The disappearance of students from its schools represents a much larger crisis: the slow erosion of entire communities. If decisive action is not taken, the city risks losing not just its schools, but also its neighborhoods, businesses, and cultural vibrancy.
The challenge now is clear: how can Busan become a place where young families want to stay, live, and raise children? The answer to this question will determine the city’s fate in the coming decades.
If the right measures are not implemented soon, Busan could become the first major South Korean city to experience irreversible population collapse. The clock is ticking.
