Last Sunday, when my column on German lignite coal was published, I was asked at a barbecue by a fellow German just how German is Australia.
So I figured we stay with the German theme for one more week and answer my mate’s question in the form of a column. Feel free to crack open a cool bottle of beer and throw a couple of sausages on the barbie before reading on.
Let’s start with a reminder that there are different ways of measuring cultural affinities. Country of birth is a straightforward measure. You are born in Germany; you are German-born. You are born in Australia; you are Australian-born. Your place of birth is unambiguous.
Ancestry is harder to define and tends to be a self-reported measure. Who are we to say what somebody’s ancestry is?
A second-generation immigrant, like my son, might declare himself to be Australian (their birthplace) or German (their parent’s place of birth). It’s a murky measure.
The language you speak at home is another measure of cultural affinity. You might be a German-born person married to an Australian and exclusively speak English at home.
We could also look at what passports people hold. None of these measures is perfect. Country of birth tends to be the most accessible data, and we shall use this today.
The most recent population estimates suggest that 108,000 German-born people live in Australia, while just over a million Australian residents claim German ancestry.
About 70,000 people speak German at home. That number is lower than the 108,000 figure because many Germans (think international students or people married to English speakers) are the sole German-speaker in their household.
Whatever measure we look at, peak German population in Australia is a thing of the past. In total terms, the German-born population peaked in 2008 (which happens to be the year I arrived in Australia) at 126,000 and has fallen sharply ever since: from Ger-many to Ger-few.
The reason isn’t so much that Australia lost its appeal to Germans. Quite the opposite. When I visit my parents in Germany and tell locals that I live in Australia, I am yet to get a reaction other than “You lucky b—–!”. Germans love Australia.
The number of Germans settling in Australia has declined sharply (even before the pandemic turned negative for a year). Unfavourable exchange rates are partly to blame. Around 2008, migrants from Europe could turn every single one of their euros into $2.
It’s hard to believe now, but in 2008 Australia felt cheap to Europeans. These days outrageously expensive housing makes permanent resettlement less attractive.
University education is a main attraction for migrants. Since Germans enjoy fee-free tertiary education, the motivation to pay high fees for an Australian education is limited.
As if this wasn’t enough, Germany is simply running out of migrant-age population. In 1953, almost 12 million Germans were aged between 18 and 29 (peak migration age), while today, only 10.7 million people (a loss of 10 per cent) fall into this age bracket.
Because we don’t attract many new young Germans, the age profile of the German diaspora in Australia looks rather extreme.
There was a huge spike of German Baby Boomers in their 70s. They were born in Germany just after World War II ended. Their parents sought a better life in Australia, far away from the horrors of war. This is obviously the reason why many German-speaking Jews settled in Australia.
Today the median age of the German-born population in Australia is 67. This means half (!) of the Australian Germans are over 67. As the big spike of German-born Baby Boomers slowly reaches the dying stage of the lifecycle, while few young Germans settle, the German population of Australia will continue to decline for the next two decades.
But where do German-born people live? Which town, which suburb could be labelled Little Germany?
No city is more German than Byron Bay! Who would’ve guessed? About 14 in every 1000 residents were born in Germany. Sure, that’s only 149 Germans in total but feel free to call Byron Little Germany from now on. Searching for the suburb with the most Germans, we don’t need to travel far. Twenty minutes up the road in Mullumbimby, 18 in every 1000 residents are German-born.
Why do we find so many Germans in warm Aussie lifestyle towns? It’s simply demographics in action. Our Germans are retirees, and retirees love lifestyle towns.
In absolute numbers, Melbourne is the most German city (18,600) followed by Sydney (16,400), and Brisbane (9,100). The younger German-born populations can be found near universities and within cyclable distance to the big office towers. The young Germans are either international students or white-collar workers with CBD (now WFH) jobs.
On the day this column is published, I will be at another barbecue with my German friend. I can’t wait to give him an annoyingly precise answer regarding his question of just how German Australia is.
So, what’s the main lesson here? Don’t invite me to your barbecue …
