A friend recently pointed me to a thoughtful and moving essay he had written on the topic of abortion, and his reflections and experiences with it:
The central issue of the abortion debate is … The question of when human life begins. At this point, we are all aware of the political and religious positions which stand in opposition. At some point, human life begins, and the fate of the fetus is either entirely up to the mother’s will, or not. Nevertheless, it is still hard to say precisely when humanness happens since, 1) We disagree on the term “human,” and 2) as a result, all evidence on this issue remains anecdotal once you strip away the slant of the “research” that supports your preferred result.
When does the fetus become human?
On the one hand, this question seems crucial, yet on the other hand, it seems absurd beyond belief. It is a question that would never have been asked had it not been for the idea of terminating a pregnancy through abortion. What would be the rationale behind such a question? When a woman becomes pregnant and expects a baby, it is the anticipation of motherhood that has existed since man and woman first began procreating. Barring unforeseen problems, a child will be born as a result of the natural course of her pregnancy. It will be a unique instance of humanity, a living being unlike any other before or after. It is only in the context of deliberately interrupting this process — intentionally ending the pregnancy — that the question of the humanity of the unborn fetus has been raised.
From the moment of its conception, the child, which we dismissively refer to as a ‘fetus’, begins an extraordinary journey beyond imagination. Using the inscrutable road map of its unique DNA, the developing human undergoes constant change and growth — a process which ends not at birth but some 25 years later when its full physical maturity is reached. Organs form as primitive cells differentiate into complex systems dedicated to tasks both present and future. Before the mother realizes she is pregnant, at 6 weeks, the heart and circulatory system are formed, and the heart is beating. The primitive cells forming the brain and spinal cord are in place and developing; facial features, including eyes, ears, mouth and nose are evident. By 8 weeks, fingers, toes, and fingernails are present, as is the digestive system. By 12 weeks, all organ systems have been formed and differentiated, and the rest of the pregnancy is primarily about growing and maturing these intact systems. The information map for this extraordinary yet orderly complexity, as well as for much more, including intellect, personality, gifts, skills, and, yes, liabilities, is contained in the fertilized egg in its entirety. We are what we will be from the moment of our conception.
That such a question is raised with any seriousness is evidence of profound denial — the denial necessary to kill the unborn child in the womb. To raise the issue of the humanity of those not yet born, to imply that the fetus is anything other than a human being, is to salve the deep discomfort of the soul inherent in the termination of a life. For we innately know that the unborn child is alive and human, and to justify its extinction, we must engage in extraordinary contortions of conscience. Thus we say the fetus is an “extension of the mother’s body,” which it clearly is not; we refer to it as a “blob of tissue” or “protoplasm,” dehumanizing its unique and extraordinary human potential; we call it a “potential human,” as if at some magic point a switch is thrown to turn on its humanity — while never stopping to define what that humanity is, or why there is no humanity in a split second before our chosen transition time. We draw false and foolish analogies: the fetus is no different than a skin cell, or a “sacred sperm,” or a tumor — thus denying the extraordinary creation that occurs when the genetic map of two parents fuses into a new life, with an infinite capacity for uniqueness, change, experience, and creativity of its own. We are created to create; we are engendered to engender; we are conceived to conceive again in an endless and infinite way. We are appointed to dream up new ideas, to construct new works, to achieve new accomplishments, build new relationships, experience new failures and successes, and beget new life itself.
For a host of reasons, we deny the self-evident aspects of being human. Our secular and utilitarian culture has lost its sense of wonder at the miracle of the creation of a new human life. Our children have become burdens, hindering our materialistic acquisitiveness and preventing us from pursuing our self-interest and self-gratification. We must dehumanize first, then destroy the unborn child, that we may live out the delusional fantasy of unrestricted and uncommitted sexual license without consequences. We must continue the deception that we are masters of our destiny. We perpetuate the vacuous vision that our relationships are about self-fulfillment rather than sacrifice for the good of our progeny and the society and culture in which they will partake.
If we are introspective in retrospect, we may experience the termination of our pregnancy with the wistful thought of having aborted a Beethoven or a Ben Franklin. Yet even this mild melancholy misses the point, showing the shallowness of our humanity. Finding comfort in the rarity of such genius, we dismiss the loss of that which is far more tragic: the loss of the common, in all its richness and variety. It is not the loss of a Mozart that we should mourn; it is the empty place where a merchant, a mechanic, a muse, or a minstrel might have stood. It is the compassionate mother, the inspirational teacher, the clever repairman, or the comical co-worker who will never live to enrich the lives of others in ways trivial and transcendent. Our losses are immense, for we have provoked them without comprehending their value. Our hope and our future are sacrificed on the altar of calculated convenience and cold rationality.
We are not merely affected by the loss of those who might have lived. We also experience the consequences of making these fatal choices on our character and conscience. For if the humanity of our children is fungible, redefined, discarded, and spent in the pursuit of convenience and self-interest, such expediency will not long remain in the dark chambers of the abortion suite. In banal, measured, rational steps, we will soon judge the humanity of all with the same jaundiced eye. The disabled, the mentally ill, the elderly, and the frail will quickly find our cold and rational eye cast upon them as we find their lives ever more a burden, ever more useless and pointless, all too easily discarded as we pursue our Utopian vision of perfection through self-worship.
Nevertheless, our Darwinian dream marches on, leaving the weak to fall by the wayside in our evolution from compassionate humans to cold, rational beasts. Survive we may — but at the ghastly price of wagered humanity lost.
