Abortion – Two Key Questions

Abortion – Two Key Questions

39 minutes reading time

Why many are pro-choice

When discussing the complexities of abortion, it’s vital to approach the subject with compassion and understanding. Pregnancy, while a miraculous journey for many, can also bring immense stress and difficult circumstances.

Imagine a mother eagerly awaiting the arrival of her child, only to discover at a 20-week scan that the baby she’s carrying lacks essential organs for survival. The heartbreak and emotional turmoil she must endure are unimaginable.

Consider the devastating experience of a woman who, after surviving a sexual assault, faces the harrowing reality of an unwanted pregnancy. Similarly, what about a woman mustering the courage to leave an abusive relationship, only to find out she is pregnant with her abuser’s child.

Reflect on the situation of a woman experiencing a dangerous medical complication like a placental abruption, leading to a haemorrhage. Her family is faced with an agonising decision: to prioritise her life or that of her unborn child.

Think about the woman working tirelessly across two jobs, barely making ends meet, who now has to decide whether to bring another child into a life of poverty or to provide for the children she already has.

What about the dilemma of a teenager who, due to an accident like a broken condom, must choose between the responsibilities of teenage motherhood and just being a teenager.

Consider those who are financially, emotionally, or physically unprepared to raise a child, or those who are not yet mature enough for parenthood. 

In these scenarios, the question of whether to have an abortion is not black and white. Recently, I heard about a woman who, amid her pregnancy, discovered her partner’s infidelity and ongoing scandals. Confronted with the reality that this is no longer the person she wants to co-parent with, she faces an incredibly tough decision – does she parent with someone who has been unfaithful and dishonest, or is it healthier for her and the “pregnancy” to part ways entirely?

These stories highlight the complex, deeply personal nature of the decision to have an abortion. In advocating for choice, we’re not just advocating for the abstract concept of ‘life’ but for the very real, lived experiences of women. Supporting their right to choose can be seen as an act of compassion, recognising the profound personal impact of these decisions. In essence, supporting abortion rights can be seen as being pro-life – prioritising and valuing the lives of women in all their complexity and dignity.

I understand why many support abortion. I get it. However, I can’t help but feel that the child, the most innocent party, is overlooked in this debate. There are numerous accounts of guilt and depression from those who’ve had abortions, even with full support. Doesn’t this emotional distress indicate that something more than just a cluster of cells has been lost? It’s crucial to acknowledge the immense stress and potential trauma of pregnancy, but my intuition tells me that the stress of pregnancy and the changes it poses does not eradicate the voice and right to life, or does it?

You might say that this issue is about perspective: whose rights take precedence, the child’s or the mother’s? Pro-choice supporters argue that restricting abortion access infringes on women’s rights. Conversely, pro-life advocates believe that abortion undermines the child’s right to life. Both sides present compelling arguments. Ideally, a child should be conceived in a nurturing environment, where both parents are committed to prioritising their child’s well-being, eliminating any conflict between the interests of the mother and the child. However, as we have pointed out, reality often presents complex situations where this ideal is not met.

This essay aims to thoroughly explore the morality of abortion, drawing from philosophy, theology, and science. We need a definitive answer. According to the World Health Organization, approximately 29% of pregnancies end in abortion, and the numbers are rising. With about 70 million abortions annually, it’s crucial to ascertain the moral standing of abortion.

To determine the morality of abortion, I believe we must answer two key questions:

  1. When does life begin?
  2. How do we determine the value of life?

Should freedom ever be limited?

Before exploring two key questions, let’s take a moment to consider a broader cultural trend, particularly in relation to conscience. Recently, a friend of mine had an intriguing conversation where the topic turned to the idea of right and wrong. His friend confidently claimed, “I’ve never done anything wrong.” Surprised, my friend asked, “Not even a white lie?” To which the response was, “Well, I have lied, of course, but it wasn’t really wrong because I did it to protect my feelings.”

This perspective is quite common in the Western world, where emotions and personal desires are often elevated to the ultimate good. Any action is justified if it makes us feel better. Freedom is held up as the ultimate virtue and even trumps tolerance as society requires us to tolerate everyone and everything unless they impinge on our freedom to do as we please.

However, this emphasis on rights often overshadows discussions about responsibilities. We might wonder if we’re prioritising freedom too heavily and whether there should be boundaries to it. How do freedom and responsibility intersect, and should freedom be morally constrained? And importantly, who decides these moral standards, and why should one’s freedom adhere to these externally defined norms?

From some atheistic viewpoints, there is no such thing as justifiable, objective moral obligations. There are no immutable constraints to Human freedom. This viewpoint allows individuals to construct their own definitions of freedom, rooted in personal desires, without the adjudication of an overarching authority. Such a stance is frequently in contrast with religious perspectives, notably the Christian worldview, where morality is often seen as objective and rooted in divine command.

The Christian perspective, particularly as articulated in the Bible, suggests that true freedom isn’t merely the license to act as one wishes, but rather the opportunity to do what one ought to do. This viewpoint hinges on the existence of objective moral responsibilities, which are not contingent on the shifting sands of personal opinion or societal preferences. From this viewpoint, true freedom is deeply intertwined with moral responsibility, arising from living in alignment with divine will. Essentially, it means having the liberty to act in accordance with what is right, as defined by divine authority, specifically God in this context.

However, a key challenge within this perspective lies in the accurate interpretation and understanding of these moral duties. The endeavour to discern what God has communicated throughout history is an ongoing journey. Christians strive to gain a deeper, more precise comprehension of these life instructions and principles – exemplified in the life and teachings of Jesus. Jesus serves as the prime exemplar, the very embodiment of a moral life.

The gospel recounts the story of an ecstatic God who ventures beyond himself, relinquishing his divinity, and humbling himself to engage with humanity, ultimately enduring suffering for their redemption. As the judge of all, he still paid the penalty for humanity’s transgressions, revealing his love for all. This expression of love is the cornerstone of Christian ethics. How do we live out this love? It is an outward-looking love that prioritises the welfare of others over oneself, a genuine affection prepared to pay the ultimate price if it signifies achieving a greater good for others.

In this context, Christians believe there is an objective morality that they seek to discover and unravel. As they delve deeper into understanding the gospel, the hope is that their translation and application of these principles become more accurate, aligning closely with the objective truths underlying moral law. This process reflects a commitment not just to any set of guidelines, but to a set of principles believed to be intrinsically right, as defined by the teachings and example of Jesus.

This philosophical divergence is one of the reasons for the growing tension between secular and religious worldviews in Western societies. The atheistic view emphasises individual autonomy and moral relativism, while the theistic view upholds the concept of objective moral duties that we must seek to discover. The key distinction lies in the perception of morality’s origins: in atheism, morality is viewed as a human invention, whereas in Christianity, it is seen as a set of principles to be discovered.

It’s noteworthy that in most societies, there’s a common belief that a healthy society sometimes requires limiting individual freedoms. For example, when someone wishes to kill or maim large groups of people, they forfeit certain rights to freedom. Restricting someone’s freedom to prevent harm to others aligns with the idea of prioritising human flourishing over individual autonomy.

Secular perspectives may view restraints on personal desires as non-obligatory, leading to a more subjective moral framework. Within this framework, traditional notions of right and wrong become less clear-cut, as there’s no obligatory alignment of one’s desires with a “true” moral code. This can result in a self-centric worldview, where subjective standards replace objective moral duties. We become gods, the judges of all things. 

The debate about morality often intersects with discussions on life’s purpose. From the Christian viewpoint, life is believed to have an inherent purpose—a call to something beyond oneself, ultimately leading to fulfilment. This perspective suggests that true fulfilment arises from facing life’s difficulties, sometimes even embracing suffering and always self-giving love, rather than self-seeking personal freedom. Without this, life might seem devoid of purpose – other than what we might pretend. 

This contrasts sharply with the naturalistic framework often associated with atheistic views. Justice and goodness are unbelievable categories within the framework of naturalism. If we are merely a random collocation of atoms, a transient occurrence in the vast timeline of the universe, the idea of objective moral duties is challenged. The issue isn’t that atheists lack the ability to formulate compelling arguments for moral principles — such as those aimed at enhancing happiness or facilitating evolutionary progress — principles that many might find agreeable. Rather, the challenge lies in the absence of an inherent, universally binding duty to adhere to these moral standards. In this view, morality is not an objective truth, but a subjective construct that varies according to individual experiences and cultural contexts. This perspective suggests that without a universally binding moral duty, our moral choices become reflections of personal or societal preferences – and that’s all. In this view, the concept of ‘ought’ — the idea that certain actions are morally required — loses its objective foundation. This perspective sees our actions and thoughts as products of natural processes, intrinsically neutral, leading to the conclusion that they are not inherently good or bad in a sense. From this perspective, moral categories are perceived as illusions — constructs that, despite being treated as facets of objective reality, are not supported as such by this worldview. They are mere human inventions, created to facilitate social cohesion, serving our aimless survival. Building on this, it follows that just as one might construct arguments in favour of certain moral principles, it is equally plausible to dismiss all such notions. In this framework, neither stance — advocating for certain moral principles or rejecting them outright — can claim correctness. Each position is seen as lacking a definitive grounding in an objective truth.

How does this all relate to the topic of abortion? Well, as you can see: whether abortion is deemed moral or not is not a straightforward verdict. It reflects a deeper philosophical inquiry, contingent upon the lens through which we view our existence and moral obligations. In a world where our preferences become the ultimate guide of our lives, practically anything is permissible, except the idea that some things shouldn’t be. It is often considered unacceptable to suggest that a woman has crossed a moral line by denying the life she and her sexual partner happened to create (whether intentionally or not), as almost 99% of aborted children are the result of consensual sex. My view is that the moral assessment of abortion is nuanced and deeply influenced by one’s underlying worldview. Therefore, to better navigate this complex moral landscape, we will delve into those two critical questions in the following section, which I believe are essential in evaluating whether one’s worldview aligns with the practice of abortion.

When does life start?

The crux of the abortion debate hinges on one pivotal question: When does life begin? If we consider an unborn child as merely a ‘fetus’ and not a distinct life, the argument leans towards pro-choice, supporting the stance “Her body, her choice.” However, this perspective assumes it’s solely about the woman’s body, without acknowledging the potential separate life within.

But what if this ‘fetus’ is indeed a separate life? Then, the discussion isn’t just about a woman’s rights over her body; it involves the unborn child. The choice becomes about ending a life through means like dismemberment or poisoning. This perspective challenges the pro-choice argument, demanding a reconsideration of when life truly begins.

Scientifically speaking, at the moment of conception, the process of life begins with only the difference of degree, size, level of development, environment and level of dependency. 

Critics often argue that a fetus is not a separate life due to its incomplete development. However, this reasoning raises ethical concerns when applied to other life stages. Would we consider a toddler, who is also in a stage of ongoing development, as less than fully human? Similarly, would we devalue the life of a disabled adult who has not developed properly? If these scenarios are morally unacceptable, what justifies applying a different standard to an unborn child? Are we saying that the value of human life is contingent on its biological development, and if so, how do we determine the precise stage of development at which a being is deemed unworthy? More crucially, who possesses the authority to make such a decision? Perhaps the greatest display of wisdom is to refrain from assuming a role akin to playing God.

Furthermore, the argument that a fetus is not a human life because of its dependency on the mother overlooks a key aspect of human existence. Dependency is a condition that many individuals experience throughout their lives, whether due to age, illness, or disability. The elderly, the brain-dead, and individuals in comas often rely on others for survival. Yet, we extend care and protection to these individuals, recognising their inherent human dignity. I would go as far to say that the most vulnerable amongst us deserve more care and protection, as our instinct tells us as soon as we hold a newborn baby.

Let’s address this from a different angle and consider the developmental journey of life in the womb:

  • Before Week 8: Early development includes the formation of the heart and nervous system. The heart begins to beat by the end of the 6th week.
  • Week 8: Facial features start forming, and the arms and legs are growing. The heart is already beating regularly.
  • Week 10: Major organs are in the early stages of development. The fetus begins to move, though these movements might not yet be felt by the mother.
  • Week 12: There’s rapid brain development, and the fetus can move its fingers and toes.
  • Week 20: The fetus becomes more active with movements such as thumb-sucking and can start to hear sounds from outside the womb.
  • Week 24: The fetus is well-formed, with developed sleep-wake cycles, and can respond to external sounds.

This progression begs a critical question: At what stage can we morally justify terminating a pregnancy? Is there a specific point where what’s often dismissed as a ‘lump of cells’ transforms into a life worthy of rights and protection? Does the passage through the birth canal, or the mother’s decision, fundamentally alter the being’s status from disposable to valuable?

Pro-choice advocates often refer to the unborn as ‘just a fetus’ or a ‘clump of cells.’ However, this terminology oversimplifies the issue. After all, every human being, at every stage of life, is essentially composed of cellular structures. ‘Fetus’, a Latin term meaning ‘little one’, is a reference to size, not to value or humanity. Thus, the debate over terminology masks a deeper ethical dilemma: if a fetus and a born baby are essentially the same being at different developmental stages, does terminating a pregnancy equate to ending a life? Altering the language of the debate does not change the underlying reality: the act of ‘terminating a pregnancy’ may well be tantamount to ending a human life.

The point I am trying to make in all of this is that the criteria for one’s humanity should not be contingent on development or dependency, but rather on the inherent qualities that make us human from the moment of conception – which I believe extends beyond the material.

The debate over whether an unborn child is a life also raises a parallel question about parental responsibilities. Consider this: if a woman can choose to abort, does this imply that a man can similarly choose to abandon his responsibilities? If a mother has the liberty to end her pregnancy, it logically follows that a father might claim the right to disengage from his unborn child. Yet, societal norms demand that fathers support their children, highlighting an inconsistency in our views on parental responsibilities. When a man abandons his pregnant partner, it’s widely acknowledged that he’s neglecting not just her, but also his unborn child. This recognition implies an understanding that another life is involved, one that merits consideration.

Personally, I am uncertain about the exact moment when life begins. I am not sure how to define ‘life’ in its fullest sense, which leads me to approach such judgements with caution. While it’s a scientific fact that biological life starts at conception, the broader meaning of ‘life’ remains a complex question. Does ‘life’ simply refer to the biological capacity for growth and change, or are there more layers to it? This ambiguity leads me to err on the side of caution, thereby assuming life exists.

To illustrate this point, consider a demolition analogy: Suppose I’m tasked with demolishing an old building, but I’m unsure whether anyone is inside. Even if I assume it’s empty, would it be responsible to proceed without absolute certainty? The obvious answer is no; the potential risk to life demands thorough verification. This scenario mirrors the abortion debate. If there’s any uncertainty about whether a fetus is a human life, can we justify terminating it without being certain? Just as it would be unethical to demolish a potentially occupied building, it seems equally questionable to ‘terminate’ a pregnancy amidst doubts about the nature of fetal life.

These questions are undeniably challenging, but they are crucial for anyone considering the implications of abortion. When life’s ultimate definition and beginning are unclear, should we not lean towards the presumption of its existence and treat it with the utmost respect and care? After all, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

What is a human worth?

The question of an unborn child’s value leads us to a broader inquiry: what gives human life its value? ‘Value’ in this context refers to the worth or significance of human life, a concept interpreted differently across various fields.

In various societies and cultures, the value assigned to human life often correlates with social roles, contributions to the community, and adherence to cultural norms. This value system is influenced by factors such as age, social status, and occupation. For instance, a person’s worth might be perceived differently based on their role as a parent, their job, or their influence in society. Additionally, many individuals assess their own worth in relation to others – including partners, parents, friends, or society at large.

However, this approach to valuing human life raises concerns. Firstly, social value is inherently subjective; it varies widely between different cultures and social structures, and even within the same society over time. What is valued in one context may be disregarded or even scorned in another. 

Furthermore, the fact that this value system is changeable, fluctuating based on societal whims or personal relationships, implies that worth is a variable attribute. This variability leads to a critical philosophical question: what legitimate authority do other humans have to determine our worth, especially given that they, too, are subject to the same fluctuations in value? This contingency raises concerns about fairness and equality, as it suggests that some individuals, by virtue of their societal position or personal relationships, might be deemed more valuable than others.

This approach also creates a circular argument: humans are valuable because society deems them so, but society’s valuation is based on human perspectives, which are themselves subject to change and bias. This circularity undermines the reliability of societal valuation as a measure of human worth.

Thus, we might arrive at the concept of intrinsic worth—a value that exists independently of others’ opinions. But for human life to have an objective, unchanging value, it needs grounding beyond society’s fluctuating standards. This concept aligns with religious perspectives where human life is seen as sacred, often considered a gift from a divine creator. 

From a theological viewpoint, our value is not dependent on societal roles or achievements, but is an inherent quality given by a transcendent creator. The argument here is that for life to have absolute value, it must be connected to something transcendent and unchanging, which many identify as God.

So, in religious contexts, the value of human life is often linked to the purpose of existence and humanity’s relationship with the divine. The concept of being ‘Made in the image of God’ is a foundational idea in Christianity, suggesting that human beings possess a universal value bestowed by a transcendent source. 

This argument hinges on the idea of inalienable worth, suggesting that for humans to have intrinsic value, it must originate from an entity whose own worth is inherent and unchanging. The logic behind this is analogous to how we assign value in the natural world. Consider a £100 note: its material composition is not inherently valuable, and in a world devoid of humans, it would have no value. The note’s value is a human construct, based on collective agreement and trust in the issuing authority. This analogy illustrates that value, in many cases, is not an intrinsic property of objects but is assigned based on external reference points.

Applying this to human life, if we are to argue for an absolute, objective value of human existence, it requires a reference to something beyond the mutable and subjective standards of human society. If value is contingent upon an external source, then for human life to hold objective and unchanging value, that source must itself be beyond all contingencies and changes. This ‘something’ must be transcendent, unchanging, and necessary – characteristics typically attributed to a divine entity in religious thought. The assertion is that, just as a currency derives its value from a central authority, human life derives its intrinsic value from a transcendent source. Furthermore, since intentionality is a requisite for assigning value, and since intentions are the products of conscious minds, this transcendent source is something of a conscious mind, hence why this is logically associated with God.

When we consider a world devoid of a divine presence, it prompts a profound philosophical inquiry. Let’s embark on a thought experiment: if we exclude a conscious transcendent source, what becomes of the concept of intrinsic human worth? This is a critical question, as it underpins our understanding of human rights and equality. Yet, before delving into this, we must confront a more fundamental issue: is it possible for human life to possess intrinsic value absent a transcendent source?

In a godless paradigm, where human existence is perceived as a mere coincidence of nature — an ‘accident’ resulting from the random interplay of chance and necessity — our existence is reduced to that of purposeless electro-biochemical machines. Governed by genes that are devoid of consciousness, programmed solely for survival, this perspective casts human life in a materialistic and reductionist light. There is no inherent purpose, no predetermined destiny. Existentialism suggests that individuals forge their own value through choices and actions, yet this approach inherently renders any ascribed value as subjective, self-generated, and, arguably, a form of delusion. It’s akin to acknowledging the absence of ultimate value in life, yet pretending to live as though your existence and what you do is valuable. That’s inconsistent.

If life, at its core, is just atoms in motion, devoid of consciousness or intent, then no human life can claim greater value than any other random assembly of atoms in the universe. For human beings to possess equal value, there must exist an immutable and universally applicable characteristic inherent to all. Yet, what could that be? Naturalistic views fall short, as our natural traits vary widely. Thus, we are compelled to assign value extrinsically, based on factors like intelligence, health, societal usefulness, physical attractiveness, wealth, and genetic viability. However, these criteria are inherently unequal and subject to change. Our moral compasses fluctuate, our physical bodies age and decay, and our financial worth is never constant. By naturalistic standards, human value is transient and hierarchical, leaving some less valuable than others.

Consider this: if we adopt an evolutionary perspective of human value, it implies that a person’s worth correlates with their genetic “strength” and intelligence. This troubling notion echoes eugenic ideologies, suggesting that those with perceived genetic superiority should be valued more highly than those with genetic disadvantages. It’s a perspective that aligns disturbingly with the ideologies of some of history’s most notorious regimes – namely Nazi Germany. Yet, even if we accept this evolutionary view, what ultimate value does genetic superiority hold in a finite universe destined for entropy and extinction? In such a universe, the pursuit of survival and improvement seems futile, as it ultimately leads nowhere.

So, I am led to conclude that under naturalism and philosophical atheism, human value is inherently relative, unequal, and ephemeral. Secular humanism, in its rejection of absolute values, wades into a morass of relative values, a realm rife with conflicting opinions on human worth. History is replete with atrocities committed in the name of humanistic progress, made possible by the absence of a universal moral anchor and a unified understanding of human nature.

Thus, the belief in inherent human value and worth is primarily rooted in the Judeo-Christian view that we are created in the image of God. Remove this foundational belief, and we are left to confront the valueless reality of human existence.

If life inherently lacks value, does that mean anyone can arbitrarily assign worth to a life, deeming one life valuable and another less so? This mindset grants us the troubling power to judge the sacredness of another’s existence based on subjective, external criteria. Such an approach can lead to justifying actions against those lives we deem lesser, creating a dangerous precedent of separation and devaluation.

Consider, for instance, the black slave trade era. In 1662, Virginia enacted a law stating, “All children born in this country shall be bond or free only according to the condition of their mother.” This meant that the fate of a child – whether they would be born into slavery or freedom – was predetermined by their mother’s status, a clear example of an external factor dictating a person’s worth from birth. Does it not seem alarming that an organisation, entity, or individual could determine a person’s value before they even enter the world?

This concept echoes in contemporary debates like abortion, where the rights and value of a life are decided pre-birth, primarily in accordance with the mother. If the value of life is a purely subjective matter, none of us can then say this is objectively wrong – it’s our word against theirs with no ultimate standard to arbitrate.

Do you see the issue? If we are truly the measure of all things, even in defining life’s value, well then, this measure is relative to which human or group of people? Which of us, individually or as a group, relatively decide what is right and what is wrong? All value is diluted according to the preferences and biases of this or that person. If a woman’s value and dignity means a male shouldn’t have the right to control her body, does an unborn child have the same value and dignity?

When we dismiss the inherent value of an unborn child, we nullify any rights attributed to protecting that life, thereby providing a justification for abortion. This perspective hinges on whether the life in question aligns with our desires or circumstances. If a mother, for various reasons—such as an unplanned pregnancy or feeling that the timing is not right for childrearing—chooses not to have the child, this decision is effectively an exercise of her autonomy over denying or ending a life. In this context, the preference of the one bearing the baby has now eradicated the love needed to give and raise life. This situation presents us with deep ethical dilemmas: Do the rights and value of an unborn child become secondary to the mother’s life circumstances? How do we balance these complex issues? The issue at hand is not just about the right to choose or the sanctity of life; it’s about how we, as a society, define and value life itself. 

The central argument here revolves around the notion that a child’s worth is determined solely by the mother’s desire, rather than any intrinsic value the child may have. This perspective leads to a practice where babies are aborted if they are deemed inconvenient, while those fitting into our lifestyle are kept. Imagine a scenario in two different hospital rooms: In the first, a high-risk pregnancy is being managed, with doctors striving to save both the mother and the unborn child. Here, the medical approach is about preserving life, and if a dire situation arises where only one life can be saved, the focus shifts to saving that life. I believe that motherhood (and fatherhood) is a self-sacrificial calling and not a self-serving one. The greatest act of love is to lay down our lives for others (John 15:13). The Christian ethos emphasises our duty to protect and aid those who are most vulnerable.

Contrast this with the second room, where a woman steps in, the doctor speaks to her calmly, and the unborn baby is killed. In this scenario, the unborn child’s life is ended based on the woman’s preference. Both situations are undeniably tragic – involving the loss of life (I even feel uncomfortable writing about it), but the key difference lies in the agency and preference of the woman, directly impacting the fate of the child.

This dichotomy raises a profound question about our societal values: Are we comfortable with the idea that a life can be deemed expendable based on its utility or convenience? Ronald Reagan’s poignant observation, “I’ve noticed that everyone who is for abortion has already been born,” captures the essence of this debate. It challenges us to consider whether our desensitisation to such decisions signifies a dystopian shift in how we value human life.

Is abortion moral? The answer

My belief aligns with the Judeo-Christian perspective that life possesses intrinsic value. Additionally, I find it challenging to dismiss the notion that an unborn child is a living entity. Consequently, after careful consideration, I lean towards the view that abortion is, in the end, morally wrong. Founder of ‘Word on Fire’, Robert Emmet Barron, put it this way:

“Opposition to abortion is not a matter of doctrine in the strict sense of the term, but rather a conclusion drawn from moral reasoning and from the findings of objective science. It is an indisputable fact that human life—which is to say, a living human being with a distinctive genetic structure and identity—comes into existence at the moment of conception. It is furthermore a fundamental axiom of ethics that innocent human life ought never to be attacked.”

In our society, we often encounter a paradox in our accountability standards. For instance, if a baby is harmed in the womb due to external violence against a pregnant woman, the perpetrator rightly faces severe legal consequences for infanticide. Yet, as an act of “healthcare”, a similar outcome can be legally facilitated by a physician as an exercise of the mother’s rights. 

From a Judeo-Christian perspective, life is viewed as inherently valuable and sacred. Therefore, the act of abortion is seen as crossing a moral line. It involves making a decision about the value of an unborn life—a decision that, according to this viewpoint, surpasses your authority. It is not for you to play God.

Picture a harrowing scenario where a violent storm overwhelms a ship at sea, resulting in a tragic outcome where only five out of a hundred passengers survive. For this analogy, let’s assume this calamity is an act of God. In this context, many might question God’s moral reasoning: “Why didn’t He save everyone? Is this decision not a reflection of immorality on God’s part?” This line of questioning is based on the assumption that God, in choosing to save only a few, has deliberately allowed the death of the majority, making a conscious decision of death to occur over life. 

Now, let’s compare this with a situation where an individual is faced with making a decision about the life of an unborn child. If one claims the moral right to choose abortion, how does this stand in contrast with the moral questioning of God’s decision in the storm scenario? This juxtaposition reveals a striking inconsistency: we question the morality of God’s life-and-death decisions as potentially immoral, yet claim the moral right to make similar life-and-death decisions ourselves. When you have the choice whether someone lives or dies within you, explain to me how that’s your moral right? When God plays God you consider him to be immoral, when you want to play god you consider it an exercise of your autonomy.

So, the question becomes: when presented with the choice between life and death, which choice aligns with moral righteousness? The intuitive answer seems to favour life. Hence, I believe that even if a parent feels unprepared or unable to raise a child, adoption could be a viable alternative. This choice, though difficult, could grant a lifetime to another.

But let’s not end the conversation here. I recognise there are significant objections to the stance that abortion is inherently wrong, especially in cases of rape or debates about the personhood of the unborn. I don’t want to overlook some of the more complex circumstances. These deserve careful consideration. It’s also crucial to emphasise that men should not be absolved from their responsibilities in these situations. They, too, play a vital role in supporting and caring for their partners during these challenging times.

Objection: “The unborn baby may be alive, but it’s not a person yet”

Peter Singer, an Australian moral philosopher and Professor of Bioethics at Princeton University, presents a controversial view. He asserts that human babies, lacking self-awareness and an understanding of their existence over time, are not “persons.” He goes further to compare them unfavourably with animals, suggesting that a newborn’s life is less valuable than that of a self-aware animal like a pig, dog, or chimpanzee. Singer, alongside his colleague Helga Kuhse, even proposes a grace period of 28 days after birth before an infant is granted full rights to life, especially in cases of disability. This perspective represents an extreme stance on abortion, extending into what could be termed ‘post-birth abortion’.

This line of thought resonates with a milder but similar belief held by many: that although the unborn baby is human, it does not warrant the same rights as the mother, as it has not yet achieved ‘personhood’. Here, personhood is tied not to being human, but to experiential and cognitive development. Consequently, this view prioritises the rights of the woman over the unborn, deeming the latter unworthy of protection due to its non-person status.

However, this reasoning raises critical ethical questions. If we follow this logic, it implies that any individual, from infants to the elderly, who relies on others for survival could be deemed expendable if they are considered an inconvenience. This extends to those with mental impairments or in comas, who might not experience life as others do. Are they, too, less valuable? Consistency in this logic leads to troubling implications.

Moreover, the portrayal of pregnancy as an unconsented condition overlooks the natural consequences of sexual relations, most of which are consensual. The majority of these relations are consensual acts, in which no one is forcing women to get pregnant. This analogy wrongly casts the mother and child as adversaries and frames the scenario as a choice between the mother’s lifestyle and the baby’s life. The mother and her child are not enemies. What is at stake in this scenario is the lifestyle of the mother over and against the baby’s actual life. It simplifies a complex decision, ignoring the deeper implications of such a choice.

Our culture champions freedom but neglects the accompanying responsibility. Pro-choice advocacy, in this context, is really about escaping the consequence of our choices by taking all choices away from another human being. In elevating ourselves as gods without the benefit of divine wisdom, we have decided that another life’s value depends on our own autonomy. In doing so, we have become devils.

The danger in this approach is evident. Once a moral boundary is crossed, the next becomes easier to breach. The argument by some bioethicists for ‘after-birth abortions’, especially for children with disabilities, is a disturbing extension of abortion logic. It reveals an underlying belief that life’s worth is measured by capacity for pleasure or utility, a view that undermines the sacredness of life. Life, in its essence, is more than just physical existence; it carries a God-given purpose. To reduce it to mere utility or pleasure is to overlook its intrinsic value.

Objection: “What about rape?”

During a respectful discussion on abortion with a friend, the emotionally charged topic of rape came up. This scenario is heart-wrenching: a woman, having endured the trauma of rape, finds herself pregnant with her assailant’s child. The trauma of this is unimaginable. Although cases of rape resulting in pregnancy account for less than 1% of abortions, they present a particularly complex challenge. Behind every statistic, there is a human story that deserves to be heard and treated with the utmost sensitivity. I acknowledge that, in this scenario, maintaining my opposition to abortion becomes challenging. I struggle with this.

Now we all know rape is wrong, disgusting and a moral outrage. It is a gross violation of someone’s body. In the Old Testament book of Deuteronomy, rapists were instructed to be punished even by death in certain cases (Deu 22:25). It’s a severe crime because it’s a violation of another person’s body.

But how can we justify this contempt of rape? In a worldview where human value is derived from God and his imprint on humanity, all human life holds equal sanctity and inherent worth. This belief anchors our moral compass. In contrast, philosophical atheism struggles to provide an objective foundation for deeming anything as fundamentally wrong or immoral. Secular humanism may advocate ethics based on empathy and social cooperation, similar to theistic approaches, but it ultimately lacks an objective basis to define ‘wellbeing’ as an absolute good. This viewpoint rests on a presupposition without solid grounding, allowing for its dismissal without substantial justification.

While secular ethics argue for a preference towards responsibility and duty of care, they fall short in mandating it as a necessity. Adhering strictly to the implications of secular atheism leads to a troubling conclusion: human worth becomes variable. Under this view, we are merely self-aware apes, and actions like rape, while undesirable, lack a moral dimension that categorically defines them as ultimately wrong. Rape may be what “is” taking place, and we may not like it, but we cannot scientifically derive a “moral ought” from what “is” the case. 

In the framework of atheism, the concept of inherent human value or objective moral duties and responsibilities is arguably an illusion—a well-intentioned but baseless belief. Our collective abhorrence of rape, transcending circumstance or culture, stems from an unacknowledged adherence to a Christian worldview, where human beings possess inherent value. Therefore, those of us who oppose abortion do so by applying this same belief in intrinsic human value, viewing abortion as a violation of another person’s body. 

I understand the sensitivity of this topic and want to approach it with empathy. I absolutely recognise the severity of rape and the necessity of justice, where the perpetrator must be held fully accountable for their actions. Simultaneously, I empathise deeply with the pain and trauma experienced by a woman in such a situation. However, at the same time, I like to bring focus to another aspect: the fate of the child conceived from this act. Should a child, innocent of any wrongdoing, face the consequence of abortion due to the circumstances of their conception?

I do believe that every individual, regardless of their background, holds inherent value and dignity. This belief echoes a principle often found in many ethical and religious teachings, such as the biblical passage from Ezekiel stating, “A child should not suffer for the sins of the father.” The circumstances of one’s birth, however tragic or unjust, should not determine their worth.

When reflecting on individuals who were conceived through rape, it’s clear that their lives hold equal value to any other. Their existence and worth are not diminished by the circumstances of their conception. Whether that be rape, incest or being born into the “wrong” ethnicity or culture, the circumstance of your birth does not define the value of your life.

Justifying abortion because of rape assumes that because the child was conceived through criminal means, he or she now possesses less value or is dispensable if the mother does not want the child. Any child conceived, whether that be through rape, incest or in marriage, has the same worth as every other child. Ultimately, this topic requires compassionate consideration of all perspectives involved, recognising the deep complexities and seeking solutions that uphold the dignity and worth of every life, born and unborn.

What if I have had an abortion?

I acknowledge that my language in this essay has been forthright, but my aim isn’t to condemn those who’ve had abortions. Instead, I want to dissuade others from choosing abortion and foster a culture that opposes it. We must understand that everyone, including myself, has moral failings. The fact is that no one can revert their past, and no one has had a perfect past. We are all guilty of breaking moral boundaries – I am, you are – so it would be hypocritical to ‘lay up burden’ on those who have previously carried out an abortion. The blame for abortion also lies at the feet of all of us who are part of a society that separates sex from commitment, creates an ecosystem of unplanned pregnancy, and fails to support women who find themselves in that situation. 

I want to highlight the role of men in this issue. Too often, men pressure their partners into abortion or abandon them during pregnancy. This behaviour is cowardly and selfish. Men must take responsibility. It’s crucial to support women who face unplanned pregnancies with understanding and compassion, recognising the vulnerability and fear they might experience. We need a more proactive approach that supports women in their motherhood and holds men accountable for abandoning their responsibilities. I long for a more radical feminism that supports women to be mothers and spurns men for their oppressive irresponsibility to think they can just leave women abandoned to make this ‘choice’ alone.

For those who have been involved in abortion, I urge reflection and remorse. The omnipotent, all-wise, infinitely holy, perfectly just, supremely good and sovereign God, through Jesus Christ, extends a boundless ocean of mercy to all who approach Him with genuine contrition and repentant hearts. His grace is potent enough to cleanse us from our deepest stains, liberating us from the shackles of past wrongdoings. This transformative forgiveness is what I have experienced in Jesus. Trust in Him, and He promises to extend the same redeeming grace to you.

Voices for the Voiceless: Confronting the Abortion Debate

It’s time we speak up about abortion. It’s not right. Unborn children haven’t done anything to deserve death. Their blood is being poured out at the altar of convenience in the most gruesome procedures of dismemberment.

Addressing a common rebuttal – that only women should have a voice in the abortion debate – it’s important to consider the broader context of moral reasoning. Remember, the landmark Roe v. Wade decision, which was instrumental in shaping abortion rights, was determined by an all-male judiciary. This fact challenges the assertion that gender should uniformly dictate participation in such debates. It suggests that the emphasis on gender as a qualifying factor for discourse might not be consistently applied. Instead, it may be selectively invoked, raising questions about the criteria for determining who should contribute to discussions on moral and legal matters of significant social impact.

We should remember that understanding right from wrong doesn’t always require personal experience. You don’t have to be a rape victim to know rape is wrong, nor do you need to be married to understand that it’s wrong for husbands to hurt their wives. In the same way, you don’t need to be able to have a child to recognise that ending an unborn life is a serious moral issue. The debate on abortion is not just about personal experiences or gender, but about broader moral principles that affect society as a whole.

Recently, I was in a discussion about Steven Pinker, a Canadian cognitive psychologist. A colleague mentioned that after reading Pinker’s work, they had come to the conclusion that violence is decreasing – a statement that seems increasingly questionable as I contemplate the issue of abortion. The standard dictionary definition of violence, focused on physical force to harm or kill, seems insufficient. It overlooks the broader spectrum of violence manifested through attitudes, institutions, laws, and judgements. Violence isn’t confined to physicality alone; the threat of violence, for instance, can be as coercive as its execution. The nature of violence is complex and multi-faceted, varying in degree, form, and visibility. Violence may be obvious or disguised; it may be overt or subtle; it may be confined, regulated, sealed off or explicit. It can range from rational to irrational, from careless to deliberate, from verbal to hidden, and can manifest in both physical and non-physical forms.

The 20th century, drenched in blood and marred by unspeakable brutality, starkly challenges the notion of diminishing violence. This era, driven in part by evolutionary principles like the struggle for survival and dominance, saw over 231 million lives killed through horrifying means: executions, gas chambers, death camps, lethal experiments, engineered famines, relentless bombings, and ruthless invasions. Each method tells a tale of human cruelty at its peak. The sheer scale of destruction, epitomised by horrors like the Holocaust and the Gulag, stands as a grim testament to an alarming escalation in human violence, shattering any illusions of a more peaceful modern world.

The perception of declining violence is heavily contingent on how violence is defined, which can be manipulated to support varying narratives. Historical patterns reveal that once a specific type of crime appears, its recurrence becomes more probable, suggesting an escalation rather than a decline in violence. This pattern is evident from the medieval era’s sword battles to the 20th century’s genocides, indicating a dramatic evolution in the nature of violence. Swords have been replaced by more efficient tools of destruction like guns and gas chambers.

In today’s world, violence assumes a nuanced form. It infiltrates the sanctuary of life’s inception – the mother’s womb – where life is paradoxically both created and killed off. The chilling normalisation of “ending” pregnancies under the guise of personal convenience and ‘moral right’ reflects a disturbing moral dissonance. The moral madness we live in is this –  the killing of millions in the name of individual rights is ‘okay’, so long as humanity declares it so.

This troubling trend echoes the dark rationale of the early 20th-century Nazis, who, by dehumanising Jews based on their birth, justified unspeakable atrocities. In a similar vein, contemporary society, by assuming the role of arbiters of life’s value, engages in a more covert yet equally pernicious form of violence. The staggering statistic of over 1.5 billion abortions stands as a stark testament to this. It suggests that, in some respects, our society harbours a brutality more severe than that of the Middle Ages, cloaked under the guise of progress and autonomy. This new face of violence, less overt yet more pervasive, raises alarming questions about the evolving nature of our moral and ethical frameworks.

The proposition that abortion is a viable solution to overpopulation adds a layer of complexity to an already contentious issue. The very concept of overpopulation is a matter of debate, as numerous modern societies grapple with the opposite problem: underpopulation. Resorting to abortion as a strategy to mitigate societal challenges, especially under the pretext of controlling population, mirrors the logic that has historically underpinned acts of genocide. Laws aimed at restricting abortion, therefore, are not about creating new societal problems. Instead, they represent a concerted effort to prevent responses to societal challenges that are ethically dubious. The crux of the matter is this: Even if abortion alleviates certain social issues, addressing societal challenges by systematically reducing the population – effectively a form of extermination – is not just inhumane, it’s a practice synonymous with genocide. Some actions are still wrong, regardless of any potential societal benefits they may bring.

The philosophical discourse on abortion is deeply intertwined with theological views, especially within the Christian tradition. Christian philosophy asserts that the sanctity and inherent value of life are derived from belief in a transcendent creator, God. This doctrine maintains that all human life is intrinsically valuable, as each person is created in the image of God and thus possesses a divine purpose. Consequently, every human being, irrespective of their conception circumstances, is imbued with equal worth.

Conversely, in an atheistic framework, which lacks belief in a transcendent moral authority, the intrinsic value of life can be seen as more subjective. This view could lead to a form of moral relativism where humanity, in its imperfection and finitude, decides what constitutes a life worthy of dignity and protection. The rise of secularism and the denial of the divine could potentially diminish the perceived sacredness of life, leading to a shift in moral perspectives. 

From a Christian theological standpoint, acknowledging the inherent worth bestowed upon each individual by God is paramount. This belief underpins the advocacy for human rights, equality, and the rejection of discrimination, all rooted in the spiritual dignity of every person. In this view, material and social metrics, such as wealth or status, are subordinate to the spiritual essence of an individual. This intrinsic worth, reflective of a divine order, lends every human being both an individual and collective significance, shaping the moral and ethical contours of a Christian approach to life and societal issues.

The Tenth Plague and Questions on Abortion

As I bring this essay to a close, I wish to delve into a particularly thought-provoking rebuttal I encountered in a discussion with someone who transitioned from Christianity to atheism. This rebuttal, I believe, might resonate with others who have grappled with similar theological questions.

The crux of this rebuttal revolves around a challenging question about the nature of God, particularly in the context of the biblical narrative of the tenth plague of Egypt. The question raised was whether this narrative suggests God’s indifference to the concept of abortion.

In the biblical narrative found in the Book of Exodus, the Israelites are enslaved in Egypt. Moses, chosen by God, approaches Pharaoh to demand their freedom. Pharaoh’s refusal to release the Israelites led God to send ten plagues upon Egypt, each more severe than the last. The tenth and final plague, as described in Exodus 11 and 12, is the most devastating: the death of the firstborn in every Egyptian household. This act of divine intervention is a pivotal moment in the narrative, ultimately compelling Pharaoh to release the Israelites, which marks the beginning of their exodus from Egypt. This event where God orders the killing of the firstborn in Egypt is commonly referred to as the Passover or the tenth plague:

“At midnight the LORD struck down all the firstborn in Egypt, from the firstborn of Pharaoh, who sat on the throne, to the firstborn of the prisoner, who was in the dungeon, and the firstborn of all the livestock as well. Pharaoh and all his officials and all the Egyptians got up during the night, and there was loud wailing in Egypt, for there was not a house without someone dead.” (Exodus 12:29-30)

This narrative raises questions about the valuation of life in religious texts, particularly concerning the death of children. It prompts us to consider if the Bible presents a subjective view on the value of life. Additionally, it provokes thought on whether this story offers any theological justification into contemporary issues like abortion. However, the connection between the biblical narrative and abortion remains elusive, as the narrative primarily addresses the liberation of an enslaved nation, and last time I checked, people aren’t having abortions to release slaves… It’s entirely unrelated.

One perspective is that the events in Exodus, including the death of the firstborn, must be understood within their historical and cultural context. These actions of God, set within the Israelites’ story, served specific purposes and were preceded by warnings to Pharaoh. The death of the Egyptian firstborn could have been averted had Pharaoh heeded these warnings and released the Israelites.

However, this understanding can be difficult to reconcile with the notion of a God who commands the preservation and protection of life, as seen in other biblical contexts. If morality is closely linked to God’s will, how do we align actions or commands that appear to contradict our moral instincts?

Here is my answer: Human worth, according to Christian theology, is objectively rooted in God. This aligns with the concept that God, as the Creator of life, has sovereign authority over it. Just because God may kill doesn’t mean we can. The ethical prohibition against taking human life is grounded in the belief that individuals bear the divine image of God, making the act of killing a transgression against God through His representative—the individual. In this moral framework, humans are considered sacred due to their inherent reflection of the divine. Conversely, God, as the ultimate Creator, transcends the limitations that apply to His creation. His ability to destroy what He has created is viewed through the lens of His inherent authority and sovereignty as the Creator. Life is considered a divine gift, granted by God’s grace rather than earned by human effort. Accordingly, decisions about life and death fall within the realm of God’s divine prerogative, consistent with His nature. This is reflected in biblical scriptures such as 1 Samuel 2:6, “The Lord killeth and maketh alive”. The cessation of life, according to this view, is not inherently evil but rather a choice by God not to continue the good of life.

Thus, the divine decision to end the lives of the firstborn in Egypt does not provide justification for human actions like abortion. Human worth and the sanctity of life are not mere products of human opinion; rather, they are grounded in a transcendent source—God.

In my final reflection, let’s return to the underlying question we asked earlier: What is it about a human person that is equally true of every other human person and can never be lost, and therefore can justify the equal value of every person and the universal, unalienable nature of human rights?

The love of God and the fact that we’re made in His image.

God created us in order to love us. He created us with a purpose – to be His image-bearers in the world, expressing this same love to others. This is what makes human life undeniably precious and worthy of protection. The measure of human value is personal – measured by the value-conferring love of a personal God. As the biblical writer John put it – “for God so loved the world, he gave his one and only son, so that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

From the Christian perspective, human worth isn’t gauged by biological, intellectual, financial, or aesthetic measures, nor is it subject to someone else’s desires, circumstances or views. Life’s value doesn’t hinge on the limited perspectives of a changing world; rather, it stems from an eternal God who, out of boundless love, gave us a piece of Himself—Jesus Christ—to settle the score for our moral imperfections, granting us the right to become children of God.

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