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Democracy

It is possible to be morally pro-life and politically pro-choice at the same time.

Abortion remains an incredibly polarizing issue but it doesn't have to be.

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Pro-choice and pro-life demonstrators face off

The legality of abortion is one of the most polarized debates in America—but it doesn't have to be.

People have big feelings about abortion, which is understandable. On one hand, you have people who feel that abortion is a fundamental women's rights issue, that our bodily autonomy is not something you can legislate, and that those who oppose abortion rights are trying to control women through oppressive legislation. On the other, you have folks who believe that a fetus is a human individual first and foremost, that no one has the right to terminate a human life, and that those who support abortion rights are heartless murderers.


Then there are those of us in the messy middle. Those who believe that life begins at conception, that abortion isn't something we'd choose—and we'd hope others wouldn't choose—under most circumstances, yet who choose to vote to keep abortion legal.

It is entirely possible to be morally anti-abortion and politically pro-choice without feeling conflicted about it. Here's why.


There's far too much gray area to legislate.

No matter what you believe, when exactly life begins and when “a clump of cells" should be considered an individual, autonomous human being is a debatable question.

I personally believe life begins at conception, but that's my religious belief about when the soul becomes associated with the body, not a scientific fact. As Arthur Caplan, award-winning professor of bioethics at New York University, told Slate, “Many scientists would say they don't know when life begins. There are a series of landmark moments. The first is conception, the second is the development of the spine, the third the development of the brain, consciousness, and so on."

But let's say, for the sake of argument, that a human life unquestionably begins at conception. Even with that point of view, there are too many issues that make a black-and-white approach to abortion too problematic to ban it.

Abortion bans hurt some mothers who desperately want their babies to live, and I'm not okay with that.

a man holds a sign for pro-choice arguments reading "our life - our decision"a man holding a sign that says our life - our decisionPhoto by Aiden Frazier on Unsplash


One reason I don't support banning abortion is because I've seen too many families deeply harmed by restrictive abortion laws.

I've heard too many stories of families who desperately wanted a baby, who ended up having to make the rock-and-a-hard-place choice to abort because the alternative would have been a short, pain-filled life for their child.

I've heard too many stories of mothers having to endure long, drawn out, potentially dangerous miscarriages and being forced to carry a dead baby inside of them because abortion restrictions gave them no other choice.

I've heard too many stories of abortion laws doing real harm to mothers and babies, and too many stories of families who were staunchly anti-abortion until they found themselves in circumstances they never could have imagined, to believe that abortion is always wrong and should be banned at any particular stage.

I am not willing to serve as judge and jury on a woman's medical decisions, and I don't think the government should either.

pro-life and pro-choice demonstrators face each otherIt is possible to be morally pro-life and politically pro-choice at the same time.


Most people's anti-abortion views—mine included—are based on their religious beliefs, and I don't believe that anyone's religion should be the basis for the laws in our country. (For the record, any Christian who wants biblical teachings to influence U.S. law, yet cries “Shariah is coming!" when they see a Muslim legislator, is a hypocrite.)

I also don't want politicians sticking their noses into my very personal medical choices. There are just too many circumstances (seriously, please read the stories linked in the previous section) that make abortion a choice I hope I'd never have to make, but wouldn't want banned. I don't understand why the same people who decry government overreach think the government should be involved in these extremely personal medical decisions.

Protestors gather outside Supreme Court after Dobbs decision

a crowd of people in front of the Supreme Court after Dobbs decision

Photo by Sarah Penney on Unsplash

And yes, ultimately, abortion is a personal medical decision. Even if I believe that a fetus is a human being at every stage, that human being's creation is inextricably linked to and dependent upon its mother's body. And while I don't think that means women should abort inconvenient pregnancies, I also acknowledge that trying to force a woman to grow and deliver a baby that she may not have chosen to conceive isn't something the government should be in the business of doing.As a person of faith, my role is not to judge or vilify, but to love and support women who are facing difficult choices. The rest of it—the hard questions, the unclear rights and wrongs, the spiritual lives of those babies,—I comfortably leave in God's hands.

Most importantly, if the goal is to prevent abortion, research shows that outlawing it isn't the way to go.


The biggest reason I vote the way I do is because based on my research pro-choice platforms provide the best chance of reducing abortion rates.

Abortion rates fell by 24% in the past decade and are at their lowest levels in 40 years in America. Abortion has been legal during that time, so clearly, keeping abortion legal and available has not resulted in increased abortion rates. Switzerland has one of the lowest abortion rates on earth and their rate has been falling since 2002, when abortion became largely unrestricted.

Outlawing abortion doesn't stop it, it just pushes it underground and makes it more dangerous. And if a woman dies in a botched abortion, so does her baby. Banning abortion is a recipe for more lives being lost, not fewer.

At this point, the only things consistently proven to reduce abortion rates are comprehensive sex education and easy, affordable access to birth control. If we want to reduce abortions, that's where we should be putting our energy. The problem is, anti-abortion activists also tend to be the same people pushing for abstinence-only education and making birth control harder to obtain. But those goals can't co-exist in the real world.

Our laws should be based on reality and on the best data we have available. Since comprehensive sex education and easy, affordable access to birth control—the most proven methods of reducing abortion rates—are the domain of the pro-choice crowd, that's where I place my vote, and why I do so with a clear conscience.


This article originally appeared on 01.22.19


Renee Bracey Sherman was 19 when she had an abortion, and she doesn't regret it.

That, she says, is why she was livid after encountering activist Lori Szala's stark, anti-abortion op-ed in The New York Times, which is generating furious responses from readers.

Photo by Zach Gibson/AFP/Getty Images.


In the piece, Szala argues that labeling abortion an economic issue is "dehumanizing," both to prospective parents for whom child-rearing should be about more than money and to their prospective children.

"Parenting presents undeniable challenges, but no one argues that those challenges give parents the right to kill their children.

It’s also patronizing, and patently dishonest. Of course unplanned pregnancy presents challenges. But it doesn’t have to lead to economic failure. Abortion is society’s easy way out — its way of avoiding grappling with the fundamental injustices driving women to abortion clinics."

It's a belief, Szala explains, that is largely derived from her personal experience as a young mother-to-be who nearly ended her pregnancy — though she ultimately chose not to.

Pressured to abort when she became pregnant in high school, Szala says that she was dissuaded by a friend who told her she'd had an abortion and later came to regret her decision.

Bracey Sherman wants people to know that her choice to end her pregnancy without guilt is common to far more women — and there's data to back her up.

A longitudinal study published in 2015 found that 95% of women who had abortions felt that it had been the right decision. And other research has found that women seeking abortions are more certain in their decision than people considering other surgeries.

If she had the chance, Bracey Sherman says, she would ask Szala if she appreciated the freedom to make her decision on her own terms.

"Isn’t it nice that you had a choice?" Bracey Sherman asks, rhetorically. "Someone didn’t force you to do something that you didn’t want to do, whether it was to continue the pregnancy or not. Isn’t it nice that you had a choice?"

Photo by Scott Olson/Getty Images.

At the time of her pregnancy, Bracey Sherman says she was working a low-wage retail job and in an abusive relationship. The notion that people who are pregnant — particularly people of color — can simply pull themselves "up by [their] bootstraps" and make it work as a parent is a dangerous myth, she argues.

"[Szala] ignores the fact that so many people don’t even have boots."

Other critics of Szala's piece argue that, in a rush to chastise women who end their pregnancies, she fails to offer solutions for preventing unwanted pregnancies in the first place.

Some pointed out that Szala, who works for an organization that owns and operates crisis pregnancy centers, could stand to benefit financially from people taking her advice.

Still others argued that terminating a pregnancy — for any reason — should always be a matter of choice and insisting it shouldn't be often comes from a desire to punish or control women.

Bracey Sherman wants more women to tell their friends and family about their experiences with abortion, especially in the face of a surge in high-profile, anti-choice opinion pieces like Szala's making it into print.

A 2014 study conducted by Sarah Cowen at New York University found that people who are opposed to reproductive rights are roughly 21% less likely to say they know someone who has had an abortion than those who are pro-choice. Bracey Sherman believes that's not by chance — and that people who terminate their pregnancies may be less likely to tell their anti-choice friends and relatives.

Photo by Scott Olson/Getty Images.

"Everybody loves someone who has had an abortion," she says. "Pro-life people have abortions, religious people have abortions, we all have abortions," she says.

After getting involved with reproductive rights activism, Bracey Sherman started a project called "We Testify," which highlights the stories of people who have terminated pregnancies in an attempt to broker an understanding with those across the aisle.

If people aren't hearing, she believes, it's not for lack of speaking out.

"We’re here. We’re making our voices heard," Bracey Sherman says. "The question is: At what point are people going to actually listen to us?"

On Jan. 21, millions of women across the country and world marched for equality. But not all of them agreed on what that meant.

Kate Munger, a 67-year-old Bay Area resident, had been asking around to find out what kinds of demonstrations might be going on nearby when she got wind of the Walk for Life West Coast, a massive march against abortion rights that takes place every year in San Francisco.

This year, the Walk for Life and the Women's March happened on the same day.


Photo by John Gress/Getty Images

Munger says she is strongly pro-choice, but abortion rights haven't always been her primary passion. Still, she saw this sharp coincidence as a powerful opportunity to practice democracy.

Munger, a lifelong singer and founder of the Threshold Choir, called up all the vocalists she knew and asked if they'd be willing to help her confront the Walk for Life ... with song.

She imagined meeting the opposition head-on with "blessings and songs." She wanted to fiercely oppose their ideas while also upholding their right to campaign for their own issues.

Still, it took Munger a while to commit to the idea. "It sounded too dangerous," she says. "It sounded too challenging."

Many of her friends agreed. But in the end, she found 11 singers willing to join her.

On the day of the march, Munger and her fellow singers traveled to San Francisco by ferry and began with some vocal warmups.

After a little practice — and steeling themselves for the confrontation ahead — the group took its place. They began to sing as thousands and thousands of pro-life activists bore down on them.

For hours, they hardly stopped to take a breath, let alone utter an antagonistic word. The 12 women simply sang, while holding a sign that said the rest:

"We don't agree with you AND we uphold your right to your beliefs in our democracy."

GIF via Ellen Silva, used with permission.

Munger says it wasn't easy to maintain composure. "We were two lines of six women being bored down on by literally hoards of people. At times it was really scary."

Most of the Walk for Lifers didn't pay any mind or didn't seem to get the message. But the few that did? Munger says "that made all the difference."

Photo by Emma Silver/KQED, used with permission.

According to an article by Emma Silver for KQED, one marcher stopped to hug Munger and the other singers before continuing on.

Others appreciated an opportunity for peaceful disagreement. That's really what Munger's demonstration was about, even more than abortion.

Though it was about that, too.

"I think we need to exercise our democracy, practice our democracy, not take it for granted," she says. "I don't feel that Donald Trump [and his administration] are showing any respect for democracy."

She's right. With so many people actively dismissing or criticizing protest efforts following the election, it's fair to wonder if the very pillars of our society are at stake.

And if they are, the voices of women and people of color are at the greatest risk.

Kudos to Munger for exercising hers without drowning out others in the process.

Family

Taxpayer funds don't go toward abortion — which makes this move by Congress a bit weird.

Making the Hyde Amendment permanent would be a big step backward for reproductive rights.

For the past 40 years, the Hyde Amendment has prevented federal tax dollars from paying for abortions.

While not a law, the amendment has become a routine addition to federal budgets — and a thorn in the side of reproductive rights advocates. For the most part, however, members of both parties have accepted its place in American politics and haven't put up too much of a fight so long as it remains merely a rider to be renewed on an annual basis and not a permanent law.

Pro- and anti-choice activists square off outside the Supreme Court in 2005. Photo by Alex Wong/Getty Images.


On Tuesday, the House of Representatives will vote on a bill that would elevate the Hyde Amendment's status from budget rider to law.

On Jan. 13th, Rep. Chris Smith (R-New Jersey) introduced the No Taxpayer Funding for Abortion and Abortion Insurance Full Disclosure Act. It's expected the full House will convene to vote on the bill — which is likely to pass, as it did in 2013 and 2015.

Less certain, however, is what chance the bill stands in the Senate, where it has been voted down after passing the House in each of the previous two attempts. To make it through the Senate, 52 Republicans andeight Democrats would have to join forces to put the bill on the president's desk.

Rep. Chris Smith. Photo by Kris Connor/ Getty Images.

Should it pass both chambers of Congress, President Donald Trump is expected to sign the bill into law, fulfilling a campaign promise.

In September, Trump made a series of pledges aimed at courting anti-choice activists. Among those promises were plans to nominate "pro-life justices to the U.S. Supreme Court," sign the so-called Pain-Capable Unborn Child Protection Act into law, defund Planned Parenthood "as long as they continue to perform abortions," and — yes — to make the Hyde Amendment permanent.

Early in the campaign, both Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders spoke out against the Hyde Amendment.

Trump signs an executive order designed to restrict aid to nongovernmental organizations that provide abortion and family planning services. Photo by Saul Loeb/AFP/Getty Images.

You may be asking yourself why it matters whether or not something that's been in effect for 40 years becomes permanent or not — and that's fair.

The truth is the Hyde Amendment, while a consistent part of American life in the post-Roe v. Wade world, disproportionately harms the 15.6 million low-income women who rely on Medicaid for their health care. By making the prohibition permanent, it becomes significantly more difficult to overturn (which would, again, require a majority in the House, a supermajority of 60 votes in the Senate, and the signature of the president to change).

Planned Parenthood warns the Hyde Amendment may result in women foregoing necessities like electricity, heat, and food in order to save funds to pay for an abortion out-of-pocket. Additionally, it may lead to dangerous attempts to self-induce an abortion.

Making the Hyde Amendment permanent would be a step backward for reproductive rights. Call your representative and senators and urge them to vote "no" on the No Taxpayer Funding for Abortion and Abortion Insurance Full Disclosure Act.