Marriage in China Shouldn’t Break the Bank 結婚成本節節高，中國農民難承受

亞當·明特 李婧萍

Getting married isn’t cheap in China. In Da’anliu， a small farming village outside Beijing， the local “bride price”—the fee that a groom’s family pays to a bride’s in advance of their nuptials—recently breached the $30，000 mark. That’s extreme for a village where incomes average $2，900 per year. So， this summer， local officials decreed that bride prices and associated wedding expenses shouldn’t exceed $2，900.

Out-of-control bride prices play to official and popular Chinese anxieties over the country’s plummeting1 marriage and birth rates. Nowhere are those fears stronger than in China’s countryside， home to millions of involuntary bachelors， often known as “bare branches.” High bride prices， and the women who command them， are an easy target to blame for this supposed marriage crisis.

The truth is more complex. Bride prices have existed in China as long as marriage has. Traditionally， more affluent families granted large sums as a mark of prestige; the money was often returned to the groom’s family， or to the married couple in the form of material items for the new household. For lower-income families， especially in rural areas， the bride price served as compensation for a wife’s future service to her husband’s family and wasn’t returned in any meaningful form. Because real value was being exchanged， rural bride prices were typically higher.

Rural Chinese were complaining about bride-price inflation as far back as the 1980s. In 2013， China Vanke Co. Ltd.， a major Chinese real estate developer， and SINA Corp.， developer of the Sina Weibo social network， created a national map of bride prices that quickly went viral online.

These days， news stories， blogs and social media posts about bride prices， the lengths that families go to pay them， and the broken engagements， family tensions and financial crises that sometimes follow， are staples of China’s internet. Bride prices in the hundreds of thousands of dollars are not uncommon and—among the rich—they can reach even higher.

Yet， just as in the past， the most expensive bride prices on average continue to be charged in China’s less-affluent areas. Several factors are to blame. First， decades of coercive2 family-planning policies and centuries of traditional preferences for male children have skewed China’s gender balance. In China’s countryside， so-called “bachelor villages” are reportedly home to 150 boys for every 100 girls. Theoretically， at least， these shortages drive up the value of single women.

At the same time， economic reforms that began in the 1970s allowed millions of women to migrate for work to China’s booming coastal factories. Some even chose to migrate for marriage， usually to wealthier regions with better economic prospects and hard-to-obtain residence permits entitling their families to better schools and other urban services.

This social mobility came at an inopportune time for rural families. The dismantling of China’s social safety net began in the 1980s and left much of China’s rural population without livable3 pensions. In one sense， that was no big change. Traditional Chinese norms hold that a son should remain a member of his parents’ household and contribute to its upkeep. When he marries， his wife transfers her labor to the household.

That’s less of a problem in a society made up of big families. In a country where one-child population controls have shrunk family sizes， though， that traditional mindset has driven up bride prices as daughters are viewed， in essence， as pensions.

The price controls imposed in Da’anliu won’t have any influence on these entrenched social forces. Instead， they’ll likely drive bride-price transactions underground—and possibly to new heights.

For Da’anliu and other Chinese towns worried about how to address declining marriage rates， the better option is to address the underlying issues driving up costs. A good start would be a law that ensures a woman’s claim on marital property in the case of a divorce. Current Chinese law makes no such provision， and thus provides a strong disincentive4 to marry and a very powerful incentive to charge higher bride prices.

Next， China needs to reform its archaic household registration system so that rational economic incentives—not benefits obtained from marriage—promote social mobility. Finally， a concerted nationwide effort to close the wide gap between China’s rural and urban schools would help encourage more women to stay closer to home. If China wants to lower the cost of rural marriages， it needs to make more of them possible first.

在中國結婚并不便宜。在北京城外以農耕為主的小村莊大安六村，當地的“彩禮”——新郎家在舉辦婚禮前給新娘家的一筆錢——最近突破了3萬美元大關。對于年均收入2900美元的農村家庭來說，這筆費用過于高昂。因此，今年夏天村政府規定彩禮和相關的婚禮費用不應超過2900美元。

失控的彩禮一定程度上反映了中國政府和民眾對結婚率和出生率大幅下降的憂慮。這種憂慮在中國農村最強烈，那里有數以百萬計的男性無奈地淪為單身漢，俗稱“光棍”。高額的彩禮以及伸手要彩禮的女性，很容易就被當成這場所謂的婚配危機的罪魁禍首。

然而實情更加復雜。在中國，彩禮是伴隨著婚姻制度一同誕生的。傳統上，較富裕的家庭會出很多錢以彰顯派頭;這些錢通常以給新居添置實物的形式返還給新郎的家人或新婚夫婦。對于低收入家庭，特別是在農村，聘禮被當作新娘日后侍奉丈夫家庭的補償，不會有任何實質性的退還。由于存在真正的價值交換，農村的彩禮通常更多。

早在1980年代，中國農村地區就有人抱怨彩禮禮金增長太甚。到2013年，中國大型房地產開發商萬科股份有限公司和新浪微博社交網絡的開發商新浪公司共同繪制了一張全國彩禮地圖，該地圖很快傳遍網絡。

如今，關于彩禮禮金、給付彩禮的周折以及有時隨之而來的悔婚、家庭關系緊張和財政危機等話題的新聞報道、博客和帖子在網上層出不窮。數十萬美元的彩禮并不罕見，富人結婚時禮金還會更高。

然而，和以前一樣，往往不太富裕的地區彩禮禮金最高，歸咎于以下幾個因素：首先，數十年的強制性計劃生育政策和千百年來的重男輕女傳統日漸扭曲了中國的性別平衡。據報道，在中國農村，所謂的“光棍村”里，男孩總數是女孩的1.5倍。至少在理論上這種短缺會抬高未婚女性的身價。

與此同時，從1970年代開始的經濟改革使數以百萬計的婦女得以到中國繁榮的沿海工廠務工。有些女性甚至選擇去異地結婚，通常是沖著在經濟前景更好的富裕地區獲得來之不易的居留許可，使其子女享受更好的教育和其他城市服務。

這種社會流動性對農村家庭來說不合時宜。中國原有的社會保障體系消解于1980年代，導致中國大部分農村人口沒有足夠的養老金。從某種意義上說，這不是什么大變化。中國傳統觀念認為，兒子結婚后仍是父母家庭的一員，應該贍養老人。兒子娶妻后，妻子也成為男方家庭的勞力。

在由大家庭組成的社會中，這不成問題。然而在這個曾實行計劃生育的國家，家庭規模已經縮小，這種養兒防老的傳統觀念抬高了彩禮禮金，因為女兒本質上等同于養老金。

大安六村限制彩禮的一紙村規不會對這些根深蒂固的社會因素產生任何影響。相反，彩禮可能被迫轉為地下交易——還可能抬高價碼。

對于大安六村和其他中國城鎮結婚率下降的問題，最好從致使彩禮金額上漲的根本原因入手解決問題。最好從立法入手，立法明確保障離婚時女性對婚內財產的分配權益。中國現行的法律在這方面不夠完善，因而大大遏制了人們結婚的意愿，又使索取更高額彩禮的風氣愈演愈烈。

另一個辦法是，中國需要改革其戶籍制度，以便用理性經濟激勵的方式——而不是以通過結婚謀利的方式驅使人口流動。最后，全國范圍內采取措施縮小中國農村和城市學校教育的巨大差距，這將有助于鼓勵更多農村女性留在家鄉。如果中國想降低農村結婚成本，就應該先讓鄉村婚姻成為可能。? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?□