20 Arguments Against Abortion, Rebutted

Seventy percent of Americans are in favor of letting Roe v. Wade stand, a new high. Nevertheless, pro-life advocates remain vocal.
I’ve heard a lot of arguments against abortion. Here are many of them, with my rebuttals.
1. The Bible says that abortion is wrong. 
For starters, in the U.S., our secular constitution trumps the Bible. “The Bible says so” is irrelevant when the First Amendment forbids government from enacting laws guided by religious dogma.
And, as I’ve argued before, the Bible doesn’t say that abortion is wrong. Indeed, God has no problem killing people, including children. The Bible demands that women suspected of adultery be given a poison that will miscarry any illegitimate fetus (Num. 5:16–29). Babies begin to count as persons only after they are a month old (Lev. 27:6 and Num. 3:15–16). In the sixteenth century, Pope Gregory XIII said that an embryo of less than 40 days was not yet human.
The heels-dug-in pro-life position within some Protestant churches is a new thing. A summary of a 1978 analysis of abortion shows a surprisingly pro-choice attitude. The names of pro-choice churches are a Who’s Who of American Protestantism: American Baptist Churches, American Lutheran Church, Disciples of Christ, Church of the Brethren, Episcopal Church, Lutheran Church in America, United Methodist Church, and United Presbyterian Church.
Maybe if politicians let Christians figure this out on their own, the pro-choice stand would be even more a majority position.
I apologize for piling on, but the Catholic Church’s loud voice demands a response. The Catholic priest pedophilia scandal was a moral test. The church’s cover-up—its focus on the well-being of the church over that of the flock—shows that it failed that test. The Catholic Church has vacated its place at the table on the question of abortion.
2. Abortion tinkers with the natural order. 
We have cheerfully adopted medicine and technology that “tinker with the natural order”—antibiotics, vaccines, and anesthesia, for example—to which we don’t give a second thought. We prolong life beyond what the “natural order” would permit and allow it to happen where it otherwise wouldn’t (in vitro fertilization, for example). Abortion might be bad, but that it changes the natural order is no argument.
3. You argue that a newborn has more cells than the zygote that it started from. Is this just a size thing? What about someone who’s lost a limb? Or had tonsils, appendix, or gall bladder removed? Are they less of a person? 
The difference between an amputee and a newborn is trivial compared to that between the newborn and the single cell. In the long list of organs, limbs, and systems, this amputee merely has one fewer. Compare that with a single cell, which not only has none of those body parts but doesn’t even have a single cell of any body part.
We can push this thinking to the ridiculous. Imagine technology that provides life support so that a human head could survive. Is this less of a person?
Well, yeah. Obviously. Someone who’s been reduced to just a head isn’t as much of a person as they were. Or consider Terry Shiavo, who was allowed to die after 15 years in a vegetative state. Was she less of a person? Her severe brain damage certainly made her less of something, and you can label this whatever you want.
4. Imagine if you’d been aborted! 
I wouldn’t care, would I? But how about you, Mr. Pro-life? How do you feel about the fact that you took the opportunity for life that was denied to uncountably many other combinations of egg and sperm? If you think that it’s a silly hypothetical question, you can understand my similar reaction.
There are also voices who confront that challenge directly. Here’s someone who said that her mother’s life was clearly worse for having her and that she wished her mother had aborted her.
This thinking isn’t far removed from the Quiverfull movement, which encourages no restraint on birth and childishly “lets God decide” how many children to have. Where do you draw the line? If we are morally obliged to bring to term a 2-week-old embryo, are we also morally obliged to bring to term the thought, “Gee, I wonder if we should have another baby …”?
Seeing life as a spectrum is the only way to make sense of this. Yes, that leaves unanswered the question of where to draw the line for abortion, but let’s first agree that a spectrum exists.
5. Imagine that you had two planned kids, and then you had a child after an unplanned pregnancy. You wouldn’t want to give that child up. But if you’d aborted it, your life would be emptier. 
Of course I’d love my unplanned child as much as my other ones. But what do we conclude from this? That I should have not had two kids but rather three? Or five? Or fifteen? Should I expect some tsk-ing behind my back as neighbors wonder why my wife and I could have been so callous to have not had as many as biology would permit?
(The Quiverfull Movement goes down this path, and I explore that here.)
By similar logic, is a woman’s menstrual cycle a cause for lamentation because that was a missed opportunity for a child? It is a sign of a potential life, lost. But in any life, there are millions of paths not taken. C’est la vie.
I don’t think it’s immoral to limit the number of children you have, and I don’t see much difference between zero cells and one cell—it’s all part of the spectrum. I’ll agree that the thought “Let’s have a baby” isn’t a baby … but then neither is a single cell.
Continue to Part 2.

A single cell is simply that: a single cell.
It’s no more a human
than the first brush stroke of a painting is a picture
or the first word of a book is a novel.
— Dave Gardner

(This is a modified version of a post originally published 1/20/12.)
Photo credit: EHD
 

How the Bible is Like Honey Boo Boo

In case you’ve been living under a rock, Here Comes Honey Boo Boo is a reality show featuring six-year-old Alana (nicknamed Honey Boo Boo) and her family at home in rural Georgia.
America got its first look at Honey Boo Boo in another reality show, Toddlers & Tiaras. This show gave a backstage look at child beauty pageants, and it was a look that upset many viewers (see the photo of a four-year-old beauty pageant contestant, above). Should little girls be pushed into beauty pageants? Does makeup and acting like a teenager sexualize little girls? Looking at women who did this as children, is it a net positive experience?
Many people think that the place for little girls is the playground, not the stage in a beauty pageant. In the same way, using the Bible to address modern social and moral issues is like pushing a four-year-old into a beauty pageant—it’s simply a poor fit.
The Bible demands genocide, because it comes from a time when that was a reasonable response. It supports slavery, because it comes from a time when that was used with both fellow Jews (slavery for six years) and people from other tribes (slavery for life).
The Bible might have made sense in the context of Palestine 2000 years ago. Perhaps its laws were more humane than those of nearby tribes. But dragging the Bible from where it came from and demanding that it perform in the 21st century is putting it where it doesn’t belong.
The Bible belongs in the domains of history, literature, or anthropology, like the Iliad, Gilgamesh, or the Egyptian Book of the Dead. At best, it can provide insights or lessons by showing us what worked and what didn’t in another culture. That’s it.
At worst, we put it on a pedestal, demand that it speak, and then treat its inept words as divine. It’s as out of place as a four-year-old in a beauty pageant.

Life is meaningless. …
I think it’s absurd—the idea of seeking meaning
in the set of circumstances that happens to exist
after 13.8 billion years’ worth of unguided events.
Leave it to humans to think the universe has a purpose for them. …
There is only one sensible thing to do with this empty existence, and that is: fill it. …
Life is best filled by learning as much as you can about as much as you can,
taking pride in whatever you’re doing,
having compassion, sharing ideas, being enthusiastic. …
It’s an incredibly exciting thing, this one meaningless life of yours.
— Tim Minchin

 
Photo credit: babble

What Does the Bible Say About Abortion?

The Old Testament patriarchs would scratch their heads at the problem conservative Christians have invented and seized upon. “That’s not what ‘Thou shalt not murder’ means!” they’d say. “It means that you shouldn’t take a stick and beat someone over the head until he’s dead! We kill people around here at the drop of a hat—both our own people when they transgress the Law and people of other tribes when we get into border squabbles. And God has no hesitation in killing people. To simply make someone not pregnant is vastly different. People try lots of folk remedies to bring about that very thing, and our only complaint is that they’re not effective.”
All this hand-wringing about the safety of a single cell, less than one trillionth the size of an infant, would baffle them. God is happy to slaughter (or order slaughtered) lots ’n lots of humans—men, women, and children.
If the Big Man doesn’t care, why should we? That’s a rhetorical question—of course we should care. It’s just that we shouldn’t imagine an argument against abortion based on what the Bible says.
About Babylon, it says, “Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks” (Ps. 137:9). And: “Their children also shall be dashed to pieces before their eyes; their houses shall be spoiled, and their wives ravished” (Is. 13:15–16). Whether God uses genocide against the other guys, poisonous snakes against his own people, or an old-fashioned global flood against everyone, God has a broad palette of options when it comes to death, and he makes no special provision for children, infants, or fetuses.
The Bible even describes a potion to deliberately induce a miscarriage, used by the priest when a woman is suspected of adultery.
God himself has a hand in abortions. Roughly half of all pregnancies end in spontaneous abortion, a far greater rate than that of clinical abortions. If God exists, he’s the biggest abortionist of all.
Why imagine that the Bible is against abortion? Maybe it’s that whole “thou shalt not murder” thing.
But you do know that “thou shalt not murder” isn’t in the Ten Commandments, right? Let’s review the story. Moses comes down from Mt. Sinai with the Ten Commandments (Exodus 20) and then smashes them when he sees the golden calf. He goes back up for another set (Ex. 34), but God must’ve been stoned when he dictated them the second time because it’s quite a different set of rules. Note that these rules aren’t just an addendum of some sort; these are the replacement Ten Commandments. Exodus 34:28 makes this clear: “[Moses] wrote on the tablets the words of the covenant—the Ten Commandments.” In other words, if you’d been able to peek inside the Ark of the Covenant to see this Ten Commandments 2.0, nowhere would it have said, “Thou shalt not murder.”
But let’s ignore that and assume that the scriptures say not to murder. What is “murder”? Is capital punishment murder? It’s illegal in Europe, and many people think it’s murder in the U.S., and yet it’s legal in 32 U.S. states. What about killing in wartime? Or killing in self-defense? Or killing accidentally? Or killing animals? Or euthanasia? Murder is undefined, so “Thou shalt not murder” is meaningless.
You’d think that this vaguely supported legal opinion that God is against abortion would give Christians pause, but I guess the hearts of pro-life Christian soldiers are resolute. They’re quick to argue that God’s actions are beyond our understanding when it suits them—when confronted with the Problem of Evil or the justice of hell, for example—but at other times they acknowledge no vagueness and know for certain what God wants. In particular, they know that God is against abortion!
Why is abortion that big a deal from the Christian standpoint when abortions send souls to heaven without the risk of doing the wrong thing in adulthood? That murdered babies go straight to heaven was one way William Lane Craig tried to wriggle out of the moral consequences of God ordering the Canaanite genocide.
Using Craig’s logic, abortion clinics may save more souls than churches!

Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others.
If you have that awareness, you have good manners,
no matter what fork you use.
— Emily Post

(This is a modified version of a post originally published 1/16/12.))

Photo credit: Wikimedia

If Pro-Lifers Got into the Car Business . . .

Have you heard of Trinity Car Company? They’re new, and they claim to have a much more sensible approach to car buying. They’ve eliminated the showroom, and you go right to the factory. A friend of mine, who I’ll call Frank, told me about his experience. For his college graduation present, Frank’s father made the down payment. Frank wasn’t sure that Trinity was the right car or that now was the right time, but he went along.
Frank was greeted in the lobby by the salesman, a clean-cut young man with a big smile.
“I’m amazed you’re so quick,” Frank said. “I just put my order in two days ago, and yet here I am.”
The salesman carried himself as if he had found his dream job. “We treat every car for the miracle it is,” he said. “‘Every Design has a Designer,’ after all.” He pointed up to the large plaque on the wall that carried the same motto.
“Well, let’s go see your baby.” The salesman ushered Frank into a large room that appeared to be empty except for a car’s engine block on the floor. It lay on a fuzzy pink blanket. The pistons hadn’t been installed, and the six shiny cylinders were empty. “There you are,” he said. “You’ve made a nice choice. She’s a beaut!”
Frank looked around. “Where?”
“Right here.” The salesman took a step closer to the engine block and pointed.
“That’s not a car.”
“It is a car.” He put his hands on his hips and smiled, looking back and forth between Frank and the block. “Well, if we’re done here, let’s go wrap up the paperwork.”
“For what?” Frank said. “It’s not finished.”
“It will be.”
“Then get back to me when it is. I’m not paying $21,000 for that.”
The salesman cocked his head to the side like a perplexed puppy. “I must say, you seem to have a cramped definition of ‘car.’ Think about how fun it’ll be to drive.”
“But it’s not a car!”
“Of course it’s a car. What else would it be? It’s not a flower. It’s not a dinosaur. It’s a car. You’re just not familiar with the development process.” He walked over to the engine and pointed to the front of the block. “And take a look at this.”
Frank walked over and knelt next to him.
“See? It even has your VIN number—it’s unique.” The salesman ran his finger gently over the small raised digits as he read out the number. “You can touch it if you want to.”
Frank stood and waved his hands. “Look, this is not what I wanted.”
The salesman said, “Getting a car is big step, I’ll grant you, but I’m sure you want to see this process through.”
“I do not.”
The salesman’s smile dissolved. “I can show you what it’ll look like next week and the week after that and so on. Let me show you the pictures.”
Frank held up his hands. “Hold on. Maybe this is my fault. To me, a ‘car’ is what it’ll be when it’s finished, but I don’t want to debate definitions. A car that won’t be finished for months simply won’t work for me. This isn’t a fit.” He took a step toward the door.
The salesman ran his hands through his hair compulsively, erasing the clean-cut façade. “You knew about this when you signed up.”
“What’s the big deal? Sell it to someone else.”
The salesman looked at Frank as if he’d vomited on himself. “That’s not the way it works here. You saw the VIN. This is your car! Do you know what happens if you don’t take it?” He paused to catch his breath. “Let me show you.” He took out a small packet of photos from his jacket pocket.
“No, that’s okay,” Frank said, stepping back.
“I insist.” The salesman stood between Frank and the door. “They come with a crane with sharp tongs. They pick it up. They drag it out.” He flipped through photos of these steps. “They put it in here.” This photo showed some sort of grinding machine with enormous teeth. “Is that what you want? Can you live with that?”
Frank feinted to one side, and the salesman blocked him. Frank dashed around the other side and ran to the door. He looked back as he yanked the door open.
The salesman was holding up the photos as if showing a cross to a vampire. “Murderer!” he said, his eyes glistening. “Murderer!”

I was not;
I was;
I am not;
I do not care.
— Epicurus’s observation on death

Photo credit: Hemmings Daily