Before the 20th century, roughly a quarter of children in most parts of the world didn’t reach their fifth birthday. In some regions and periods it was closer to half.

Industrialization pushed childhood mortality down. Then 20th-century public health accelerated it — mass vaccination, cleaner water supplies, antibiotics. But families didn’t immediately start having fewer children just because fewer were dying. It took a generation, sometimes two, before birth rates adjusted. During that lag, population grew faster than at any point in recorded history.

Green countries are above 2.1 children per woman — the rate at which a population can hold steady without immigration. Red is below it. Africa and much of Central Asia are green. Most of the rest of the world is not.

The whole of Sub-Saharan Africa sits well above 2.1. Chad is at 5.94, Somalia 5.91, DR Congo 5.90. The region is still in that lag period: child mortality has improved significantly over recent decades, but the economic and social conditions that eventually pull birth rates down — access to education for girls, urbanization,
contraception — are running on a different timeline than they did in, say, South Korea or Iran a generation ago.

Europe and East Asia have been below replacement for a long time. Japan has been below 2.1 for close to forty years. Governments across Southern and Eastern Europe have handed out cash payments for new babies, built more daycare centers, extended parental leave — Italy is at 1.20 now, Spain 1.21. South Korea
has spent more on incentivizing births per capita than almost any country on Earth and is down to 0.75, the lowest rate of any sovereign nation in this dataset.

Iran is at 1.67. Brazil 1.60, Argentina 1.51. Mexico is at 1.87. These are countries that spent decades being associated with rapid population growth. India crossed below 2.1 around 2020 and is at 1.94 now. The Philippines was at 6.0 in the early 1960s and is at 1.88 today. The perception of these places as high-fertility countries has simply not kept pace with the data.

The world average is 2.24. Above 2.1, yes, but not by much, and without Sub-Saharan Africa it would already be below replacement.

Interestingly, Israel is at 2.75 — high for a country at its income level, the product of religious demographics anddecades of active government support for larger families. Kazakhstan is at 2.95, Uzbekistan 3.45, Tajikistan 2.99. Most of these countries are still heavily rural, and in practice it’s urbanization that pulls birth rates down more consistently than any policy. Bangladesh is at 2.11, essentially sitting on the line. Lebanon is at 2.21 and has been falling for years.

For most of the 20th century, the population concern dominating political thinking was overpopulation — too many people pressing against limited food and resources. In parts of the world where birth rates are still high, that concern is still real. But in most of Europe, East Asia, and now growing parts of Latin America, the actual problem governments are dealing with is the opposite: workforces shrinking faster than pension systems can absorb, and smaller cities losing residents with nothing reversing it. China ended the one-child policy in 2015 and has been running incentives to have more children ever since, with almost nothing to show for it. No country has worked out how to meaningfully raise a fertility rate once it has dropped this far.

By 2035, a lot more of this map will be red.

The post Most Countries Can No Longer Replace Their Own Populations appeared first on Vivid Maps.

Africa has 754 million Christians. Europe has 552 million, and North America has 401 million. If you add up the numbers, Africa has more Christians than Europe and North America combined.

In 1900, Africa had maybe 10 million Christians. Now, just 120 years later, the number has grown about 75 times!

South America comes in second globally with 400 million. Brazil alone has 185 million Catholics. That’s more Catholics than any other country in the world.

Asia has 417 million despite being home to more than half the world’s population. The Philippines holds 93 million of Asia’s Christians, basically a quarter of the continent’s total. Three centuries of Spanish rule left their mark.

Russia is home to 105 million of Europe’s Christians. Without Russia, the number of Christians in Europe would be much lower. In many Western European countries, especially among people under 40, church attendance has become less common.

The religion started with a handful of people in Jerusalem. Now there are churches on Arctic ice and underground house churches in places where it’s illegal to practice.

The post Christianity Across Continents appeared first on Vivid Maps.

Technology opened things up first with submarines and icebreakers and satellites. At the same time the climate warmed and the calendar of ice shortened. Satellites have watched summer ice shrink since 1979, losing on average about 12 percent every decade. Routes that used to be blocked for months at a time are now open longer. Russia already moves cargo along the Northern Sea Route for much of the year. Some climate models still point to summers with almost no ice by 2030.

Why the scramble? Treasure and transit. According to the U.S. Geological Survey, the Arctic seabed holds tens of billions of barrels of oil and over a thousand trillion cubic feet of gas. Greenland is also believed to have about 1.5 million tonnes of rare earths, which are important for batteries and electronics. Shipping through the Arctic can cut almost three weeks off the journey from Asia to Europe compared to using the Suez Canal. When time is money, those savings add up fast.

Six countries have drawn territorial claims.

Russia reopened over 50 military bases since 2014. Thirteen airfields, 10 radar stations. They’ve got eight nuclear icebreakers running. Everyone else combined? Three, maybe. Year-round Arctic access while others can’t.

Canada says the Northwest Passage is theirs. The U.S. calls it international waters. Both run military drills there now.

Greenland matters because China makes 60% of the world’s rare earths. Denmark filed their Arctic claim in December 2014. It overlaps with Russia’s claim.

The map shows 90°N falls outside everyone’s 200-mile zones. International law says that’s open ocean. Countries keep filing claims anyway, saying underwater ridges connect to their land.

Russia filed for the Lomonosov Ridge in February 2023. It’s an 1,800-kilometer (1,118-mile) underwater mountain range. They say it extends from Siberia. Canada filed in December 2022 saying it’s connected to North America. Denmark sided with Canada. The U.N. checks the geology but won’t pick sides. Countries have to negotiate directly. That takes decades.

Ice keeps melting. The 1980s had 7 million square kilometers (2.7 million sq mi) of summer ice. Now? Under 4 million square kilometers (1.54 million sq mi). Greenland dumps 280 billion tons yearly.

Norway approved Arctic drilling for 2025. Sweden’s LKAB found 1+ million tons of rare earth oxides near Kiruna in 2023. Norway found bigger deposits at Fen Carbonatite. China built polar icebreakers and calls itself “near-Arctic” despite being nowhere close.

Russia’s icebreakers run all year. Their bases cover the whole Arctic coast. The U.S. talks expansion but hasn’t built the ships. Finland and Sweden joining NATO added northern territory, but Russia already had their infrastructure up.

Who controls the Arctic? Whoever can operate ships and bases up there. Russia’s got that now. Trump wants Greenland’s rare earths and location. China’s building icebreakers anyway. Trillions in resources guarantee this keeps going.

The post Who Controls the North Pole? appeared first on Vivid Maps.

I used the high-resolution Köppen-Geiger dataset from Beck et al. (2023), which covers 1901 through 2099 at 1-kilometer resolution, to visualize Canada’s climate zones. (My previous post on global climate zones includes the full table explaining what each climate code means, if you want the details.)

On the map above, the high Arctic islands appear in gray: ice caps (EF) and tundra (ET). Below that sits an enormous belt of subarctic (Dfc) and hemiboreal (Dfb) climates covering most of Canada’s forested area from Yukon to Labrador.

The southern part of the country shows more variety. The Great Lakes region and southern Quebec range from Dfb to Dfa in the warmest areas. British Columbia’s coast stays mild year-round thanks to the influence of the Pacific (Cfb). Interior valleys in Alberta hold some of Canada’s only semi-arid pockets (BSk), found in rain shadows.

Changes Since 1930

Over the past century, Canada’s climate zones have moved north.

Early 20th century climate (1901–1930) versus modern climate (1991–2020).

Tundra has pulled back from the mainland. Areas that were treeless a century ago now support scattered spruce. The tree line has crept northward in many places, though not uniformly. Subarctic zones have shifted too. Parts of northern Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and Ontario that were firmly subarctic a hundred years ago now edge into warmer classifications.

Projections to Century’s End

For future projections, I used the SSP2-4.5 scenario (the most likely scenario), in which emissions rise until mid-century and then level off.

Current climate versus late-century projections (after 2077, ssp2-4.5).

By the late 21st century, changes become dramatic. The subarctic zone moves hundreds of kilometers north. reaches the High Arctic islands.

The tree line advances north. Permafrost thaws across huge areas. Hudson Bay’s ice-free season lengthens. Southern Canada warms considerably. The Great Lakes and St. Lawrence regions would see longer summers and less severe winters.

From 1930 to the end of the 21st century.

From 1930 to 2099, zones travel substantial distances. What’s tundra in 1930 becomes subarctic forest by 2099. What’s subarctic in 1930 becomes continental (hemiboreal) by 2099.

I also created maps for 1931–1960 and 2041–2070. The full animation shows the progression:

Data and Methods: All maps use the 1 km Köppen-Geiger dataset from Beck, H.E., et al. (2023), “High-resolution (1 km) Köppen-Geiger maps for 1901–2099 based on constrained CMIP6 projections.

The post Canada’s Shifting Climate Zones: Köppen-Geiger Maps from 1930 to 2099 appeared first on Vivid Maps.

But how do we make sense of all this diversity? Average temperatures alone don’t capture the full picture. A place can have the same annual average temperature as another yet support completely different ecosystems depending on when rain falls, how severe winters get, or how long the growing season lasts. That’s where the Köppen–Geiger climate classification becomes invaluable. Developed over a century ago and refined ever since, it remains the most widely used system worldwide because it ties climate directly to what actually grows on the ground. Instead of just measuring averages, Köppen–Geiger groups places by temperature thresholds and seasonal precipitation patterns, which means the classification naturally aligns with vegetation zones and ecosystems.

For this post, I created a series of climate maps showing how these zones have moved across the United States over the past century and how they’re projected to shift by the end of this century. All the maps use high-resolution (1 kilometer) data from Beck et al. (2023), who combined historical climate records with downscaled projections from the latest generation of climate models. Their dataset provides consistent 30-year climate normals from 1901 all the way through 2099, making it possible to track changes across nearly two centuries.

Understanding the Climate Codes

Each Köppen–Geiger code has two or three letters: the first describes the general climate group (A = tropical, B = arid, C = temperate, D = cold/continental, E = polar), and the following letters add details about precipitation patterns and temperature extremes.

The Southeast of the United States is dominated by humid subtropical climate (Cfa in lime green), where hot summers and year-round rainfall support deciduous forests and intensive agriculture. Move to the north, and you will find regions with a climate where severe winter cold meets hot or warm summers (Dfa and Dfb in cyan and bright blue). The interior West displays a progression from semi-arid steppe (BSk in yellow) to true desert (BWk and BWh in reds and pinks) across rain-shadow basins where mountain ranges block Pacific moisture. California’s coast shows those distinctive Mediterranean strips (Csa and Csb in yellows) where summers stay dry and winters bring the rain. The Pacific Northwest features oceanic climate (Cfb in green) with mild temperatures and abundant year-round precipitation. Mountain ranges create narrow vertical bands of cooler climate types, compressing what would normally be hundreds of kilometers of latitudinal change into just a few kilometers of elevation. Alaska holds onto the polar and subarctic zones (ET, EF, Dfc, Dfd in grays and dark teals), the coldest climates found anywhere in the United States.

Looking Back: How Climate Zones Moved in the 20th Century

Climate isn’t static. When we compare the early 20th century (1901–1930) with the late 20th/early 21st century (1991–2020), shifts become visible. The polar and coldest continental zones have pulled back northward. Temperate zones have crept north into areas that were once colder. In parts of the interior West, arid and semi-arid zones have expanded as precipitation patterns changed and temperatures rose.

Comparing 1901–1930 with 1991–2020 climate zones.

Watch Alaska especially in this comparison. The tundra zones (ET in gray) have contracted, and subarctic zones (Dfc, Dfd) have shifted. In the northern Great Plains and upper Midwest, some of the coldest continental zones (Dfb, Dfc) have given ground to slightly warmer classifications. The Southeast has seen its humid subtropical zone expand slightly northward. The mountain West shows more localized changes, with some steppe zones becoming more arid and high-elevation zones warming enough to shift categories.

What Happens by Century’s End

Looking toward 2099 requires choosing a projection scenario. Climate scientists work with several possible futures depending on how emissions, technology, and global policy evolve over the coming decades. They call these Shared Socioeconomic Pathways, or SSPs. None of them are crystal-ball predictions. Instead, they’re frameworks that ask “what if this happens?”

For these maps, I used ssp2-4.5. It sits in the middle range: emissions keep rising for a few more decades, then level off as cleaner technology spreads and some climate policies take hold. It’s not the best-case scenario, but it’s not the worst either. Most researchers consider it a realistic reference point because it assumes neither rapid global transformation nor complete inaction.

Climate zones today (1991–2020) compared with late-century projections (2077–2099, ssp2-4.5).

The trends visible in the 20th century accelerate. Alaska’s tundra zones retreat dramatically northward toward the Arctic coast. Subarctic zones shrink. In the Lower 48, cold continental climates (Dfa, Dfb, Dfc) pull back from the upper Midwest and northern Plains, replaced by temperate classifications. The humid subtropical zone (Cfa) pushes northward into areas that were once continental. Look at the Great Basin and the Southwest: the reds and pinks of true desert spread wider, and the yellows of steppe move into areas that once got more reliable moisture. Mountains still buffer some of the warming because elevation keeps temperatures cooler, but even in the Rockies and Cascades you can see zones creeping upslope. The Pacific coast changes less dramatically than inland areas because the ocean moderates temperature swings, but warming still shows up even there.

The Full Century and Beyond

When you step back and look at the full span from 1901–1930 to 2077–2099, the magnitude of change becomes clear.

Climate zones from 1901–1930 to 2077–2099.

Zones that dominated northern states in 1930 have vanished or retreated to Canada by century’s end. The geographic center of many climate types shifts hundreds of kilometers northward. Alaska transforms from a predominantly subarctic and polar region to one where subarctic zones dominate and tundra becomes confined to the northernmost coast. Georgia’s climate starts looking more like northern Florida used to. Kansas and Nebraska lose some of their coldest winter characteristics. The arid West grows larger.

These changes will mean completely different growing seasons for farmers, different water availability for cities, different fire regimes for forests, different species compositions in ecosystems. The places where certain crops thrive move. The northern limits of pests and diseases move. The places where certain trees can regenerate after disturbance move.

I also created maps for intermediate periods: 1931–1960 and 2041–2070. Using all these time periods together, I put together an animation that shows the progression through the mid-21st century transitions more smoothly.

If you’d like to see static versions of the 1931–1960 or 2041–2070 maps alongside the others, let me know in the comments and I can add those graphics to this post.

The post How America’s Climate Zones Are Shifting appeared first on Vivid Maps.

The first map shows theoretical mobilization reserves—every male citizen aged 18 to 59 living in their country. This is the demographic pool governments could theoretically draw from during a major conflict.

Russia: 38.2 million men. Turkey: 24.8 million. Germany: 18.1 million. The UK has 16.3 million, France 15.7 million. Poland registers 10 million, which is substantial for Central Europe. Ukraine has 8 million.

Smaller countries naturally have smaller numbers. Estonia: 0.3 million. Latvia: 0.4 million. Lithuania: 0.7 million. Cyprus and Macedonia: 0.2 million each. Slovenia, Kosovo, Moldova, and Albania fall between 0.5-0.6 million.

Raw population numbers don’t tell you if people would actually serve.

The second map applies World Values Survey responses to these age groups. The survey asks people directly: “Would you be willing to fight for your country?”

Russia still leads, but now at 32 million. Turkey has 20 million willing. The UK drops to 11.7 million, France to 10.8 million, and Germany to 10.3 million.

Some countries bordering Russia have willing defender numbers between 0.2-0.4 million—Estonia at 0.2 million, Latvia at 0.3 million.

Absolute numbers tell one story. Percentages tell another.

This map shows the percentage of men aged 18-59 in each country’s mobilization reserve who say they are willing to fight for their country.

Georgia and Cyprus both hit 100%. Both countries have lived through territorial conflicts—South Ossetia and Abkhazia for Georgia, and the division of Cyprus. That leaves a mark.

Norway leads larger countries at 92.3%. Azerbaijan follows at 88.9%, Armenia at 87.5%, Finland at 84.6%. Greece and Sweden both register 84%. Look at the geography—many of these countries either border Russia, have recent conflicts, or both. Finland and Sweden just joined NATO. Armenia and Azerbaijan fought over Nagorno-Karabakh until Azerbaijan won in 2023.

Western Europe looks different. Belgium: 19.2%—the lowest percentage with measurable reserves. Ireland: 33.3%. Macedonia: 40%. Spain: 42.1%. Italy: 44.3%. These countries haven’t worried about invasion for decades. Their defense gets handled through NATO.

Poland stands out among larger Western-aligned nations at 82% – matching Russia’s rate. Denmark: 78.6%. UK: 71.8%. Bulgaria hits 70.6%, Belarus 73.9%, Hungary 73.1%.

It should be noted that Ukraine’s willingness figures were collected partly before the full-scale invasion in 2022.

Finland’s 84.6% makes sense—they remember the Winter War, never dropped conscription, and kept civil defense alive. Norway’s 92.3% comes from a country that experienced Nazi occupation. Belgium and Ireland, protected by NATO and distance from conflict zones, show the lowest percentages. Estonia (67%), Latvia (75%), and Lithuania (57%) all show higher commitment than Western European averages.

Which countries surprised you? Let me know in the comments.

The post Mobilization Reserves vs Willingness to Fight Across Europe appeared first on Vivid Maps.

Looking farther ahead – not just a century but thousands to millions of years – the numbers become much larger. If every glacier and ice sheet on our planet melted, global sea level would rise by roughly:

I built maps to show these changes, using height data from the GEBCO 2020 Grid, preprocessed by Sean Bradley.

But I didn’t stop there. I decided to “flood” the planet even further – at least hypothetically. What if Earth received the hidden oceans of other worlds in our Solar System?

Earth’s oceans today contain about 1,335 million km³ of liquid water. But in the Solar System, you can find worlds that can boast of a huge amount of water. Even Pluto likely hides beneath its crust a little less water than our planet.

Here’s how much water a few other ocean worlds might add to our seas:

At that point, our planet would turn into a water world, covered with a multi-kilometer layer of water. For the purposes of visualization, I stopped at Europa – because even Callisto’s water is nearly four times greater than Earth’s.

Below is the animated map I created. It shows major cities fading as they go underwater, while the highest peaks slowly vanish from view as they are submerged.

But while pouring alien oceans onto Earth is just a thought experiment, the opposite direction—our oceans shrinking away—is not. That is the real fate of this planet.

As the Sun slowly brightens, Earth will eventually cross a threshold called the moist greenhouse effect. Once that happens, water vapor will rise high into the atmosphere, break apart under solar radiation, and escape into space.

Models suggest this will begin in about 2.1 billion years. After that tipping point, the oceans could be lost in less than 200 million years—a blink in geologic time.

We are used to considering our planet as something permanent. But the time will come when even the planet will be unsuitable for life, at least in the form that exists now. Therefore, let us take care of our planet and not shorten the time of our possible stay on it.

The post When All the Ice Melts — and When the Oceans Disappear appeared first on Vivid Maps.

For a long time, tea was the world’s daily staple. But over the last century, coffee has caught up. In 2023, people worldwide consumed about 10.71 billion kilograms of coffee, compared with 7.09 billion kilograms of tea. Today for every three cups of tea poured, nearly five cups of coffee are brewed.

To show how these crops are grown, I created a series of maps using SPAM 2020 V2r0 data (IFPRI, 2025).

Coffee on the Move

Coffee travels across borders on a massive scale. Brazil is the undisputed leader in exports, followed by Vietnam, Colombia, and Indonesia. On the importing side, the United States, Germany, Italy, and Japan take in the largest volumes, fueling both café culture and at-home brewing.

When we talk about coffee, we’re really talking about two main species. Arabica beans are lighter on the palate, sometimes described as having fruity or floral tones, and often brewed for their brightness and complexity. Robusta beans, on the other hand, bring more punch – twice the caffeine, a stronger body, and resilience in the field that makes them easier and cheaper to grow. That’s why Arabica fills most specialty coffee bags, while Robusta often ends up in instant jars, espresso blends, and affordable supermarket roasts.

Arabica Coffee

Brazil sets the pace for Arabica cultivation, producing close to a third of the beans sold worldwide. Colombia is not far behind – its reputation for smooth, balanced coffee has been built over decades of careful farming in the Andes. Ethiopia holds a special place: not only is it the birthplace of coffee, but it still grows an extraordinary range of local Arabica varieties, many unique to its highlands. Honduras, too, has moved from a secondary role into the spotlight, with exports climbing steadily in the last few decades.

The U.S. buys more coffee than any other country, much of what Americans drink are blends of Arabica and Robusta. By contrast, French and Japanese consumers often prefer pure Arabica.

Robusta Coffee

Vietnam leads the world in Robusta farming, with its Central Highlands transformed into one of the most productive coffee regions on earth. Brazil also produces large volumes – its Robusta, called Conilon, plays an important role in both local and international markets. Indonesia, India, and Uganda round out the group of major producers.

In Italy, even though espresso is strongly associated with Arabica, most roasters blend in Robusta. The reason isn’t just cost – Robusta helps create the thick crema, that golden layer of foam on top of a proper espresso shot.

Arabica and Robusta Together

To put the two side by side, I made a combined map showing regions where each type of coffee is grown.

Arabica is found mainly in the cool highlands (e.g. Andes, East Africa), flourishing wherever altitude creates just the right mix of temperature and rainfall. Robusta takes a different approach, settling into the warmer lowland areas of Southeast Asia and parts of Africa, thriving in conditions that would leave Arabica struggling.

Tea: A Different Tradition

Tea brings another flavor to the table – literally and culturally. It has less caffeine than coffee, is often more affordable, and offers endless styles depending on how leaves are processed: green, black, oolong, white, or pu-erh.

Most of the world’s tea comes from Asia, with China and India far ahead in total production. Kenya, though much smaller in size, is a giant in exports, especially black tea, which makes its way into millions of breakfast blends worldwide. Turkey is another standout – not for sheer output, but for the intensity of its tea culture. The average person there drinks more than three kilograms of tea a year – the highest per-capita consumption anywhere.

Countries That Grow Both

A handful of countries cultivate both crops, often in very different regions. India does this on a large scale, with tea plantations in Assam and Darjeeling, and coffee farms scattered across the southern states. Vietnam grows Robusta in the Central Highlands while producing tea in the north. In East Africa, Kenya and Uganda are important players in both markets.

Coffee and tea shape habits in different ways, but they share one thing in common: both connect us to landscapes and farming traditions far beyond our own kitchens. The next time you pour yourself a cup, it’s worth pausing to think about the journey those leaves or beans took to get there.

The post From Highland Peaks to Lowland Valleys: Mapping the World’s Coffee and Tea Territories appeared first on Vivid Maps.

I wanted to see how they’re spread out today and how productive they really are, so I pulled data from the SPAM 2020 V2r0 dataset and turned it into a set of maps.

Wheat

Wheat is old – about 10,000 years old. It started in the Fertile Crescent, and from there it found its way into nearly every temperate farming region. Part of its success is that it stores well, tolerates a range of climates, and can be turned into just about anything: bread, pasta, noodles, couscous… you name it.

Today, China, India, and Russia top the production list.

Top producers in 2023 (according to FAO):

Yields vary a lot — some countries get only 401 kg per hectare (Somalia), while heavily managed New Zealand fields can go 9668 kg per hectare.

Maize

Maize, or corn, started in Central America long before Columbus ever saw it. Now it’s everywhere. Its flexibility is hard to beat: you can eat it fresh, grind it, feed it to animals, or turn it into ethanol. Globally, it averages around 5 tonnes per hectare, which is higher than wheat or rice.

The U.S., China, and Brazil are the heavyweights here.

Top producers in 2023:

According to FAO, the United Arab Emirates had the largest yields in 2023 (23307 kg per ha)

Rice

Rice is the daily staple for more than half the world’s population. It thrives in flooded fields, which help control weeds and pests, but also require a lot of water. On average, yields are about 4.7 tonnes per hectare, though some parts of China and Vietnam manage much higher.

China and India dominate rice production, with Bangladesh, Indonesia, and Vietnam not far behind.

Top producers in 2023:

Tajikistan emerges as 2023’s maize champion, harvesting an impressive 9,874 kg per hectare.

After looking at each one separately, it’s worth seeing how they fit together. Wheat prefers temperate zones, maize grows in a wide range of conditions, and rice fills the wetter lowlands. Put them all on the same map, and you can spot regions where they overlap and others where one crop clearly dominates.

Here is an animated version of this world map.

These three crops have shaped civilizations, economies, and even politics. They feed billions every day. But they’re also vulnerable — to market swings, to changing weather, and to environmental costs like water use and greenhouse gas emissions.

I’m curious: do you think the world should keep doubling down on these giants, or put more effort into other crops that could share the load?

The post Wheat, Maize, and Rice: Mapping the Crops That Feed the World appeared first on Vivid Maps.

When we look at migration data from the United Nations Department of Economic and Social Affairs, we discover that almost 281 million people lived in a country other than their country of birth as of 2020. That’s roughly 3.6% of the world’s population, but this global average masks enormous variations between countries.

This map illustrates the full spectrum of foreign-born populations worldwide. What stands out immediately is how it challenges common assumptions about where immigrants live. We often hear about countries like the U.S. and Canada, but the reality is much more diverse—and often surprising.

At the absolute peak sits Vatican City, where technically 100% of the population consists of foreign-born residents. This makes sense when you consider that Vatican citizenship isn’t acquired by birth but rather through appointment to work in the Holy See. Following close behind are the Gulf states: Qatar’s expatriate population dominates at 88.4% (roughly 2.76 million), compared to native Qataris, who account for 11.6%, while expatriates in the United Arab Emirates represent about 88% of the population.

These numbers reflect decades of economic transformation. The UAE and Qatar built their modern economies on oil wealth, requiring massive numbers of foreign workers, from construction laborers to financial specialists. Foreign workers amount to around 88% of Qatar’s population, the largest of which comprises South Asians, with those from India alone estimated to be around 700,000.

But it isn’t just oil economies at the top. Small island places like Sint Maarten, Aruba, and the Cayman Islands are also high on the list, relying on tourism, they attract workers from nearby countries and beyond. Then there’s Switzerland: more than 31% of its residents were born abroad, reflecting a long history of labor migration and its role as a finance center. And Australia? Often thought of as the poster child of immigration, yet only about 30.4% of its population was born abroad.

The animation above brings the numbers to life in a different way, gradually revealing the world from countries with the highest share of immigrants to those with the lowest. It starts with the Gulf nations, where foreign-born residents make up over 90% of the population, then moves through Caribbean territories and traditional immigration hubs like Canada (22.2%) and the U.S. (15.2%). Western Europe follows, with Eastern Europe appearing more gradually. The final moments highlight countries where immigration remains minimal—mostly in Africa and Asia—where internal migration plays a much larger role than international movement. China (0.1%) and India (0.3%), for instance, have vast internal migration but very few foreign-born residents.

According to Pew Research, in 14 countries and territories, immigration outpaced natural growth between 2000 and 2020, meaning migration was responsible for more than 100% of population growth. Without it, these places would have shrunk due to low birth rates and aging demographics.

On the flip side, places like Cuba (0.0%), Myanmar (0.1%), and North Korea (0.2%) have almost no foreign-born residents. Usually this is due to restrictive policies or limited economic incentive, showing how government and economy shape who moves in (and who doesn’t).

The post Mapped: Countries With the Lowest Percentage of Immigrants appeared first on Vivid Maps.