Opinion: Abortion, legality and human welfare
Abortion has been a central subject of political debate since Roe v. Wade in 1973. It’s a subject some politicians are keen on speaking out on, and others shy away from. But the polarizing nature of abortion politics is largely due to the bearing that legality has on the discussion — what should be or shouldn’t be legal. Introducing legality into abortion practice, however, has only served to harm women and belittle our collective understanding of the problems underlying the abortion debate.
Hopefully, we may all remember pregnant Marshae Jones of Alabama. After being shot in the stomach in December of 2018, authorities arrested Jones and indicted her on the charge that she was responsible for starting the conflict that resulted in the loss of her five-month-old fetus. Alabama DA Lynneice Washington dismissed the manslaughter charge brought against Jones, but, as NPR’s Bobby Allyn notes, “Alabama’s law defines ‘person’ to include fetuses and embryos, ‘regardless of viability,’ in cases of assault or criminal homicide,” meaning the same charges could possibly be brought against plenty of Alabama women under similar circumstances.
The linguistics of the law have a heavy bearing on how the actions of individual citizens are addressed by the state, and these effects too often come to rest on the shoulders of those absent from the skeleton of legality. In addition to reinforcing infrastructure that internalizes racial and gender discrimination, “heartbeat” bills threaten the health of millions of women across the United States.
In Georgia, a similar bill was passed on June 28 of last year, criminalizing abortion in a way that Vox’s Anna North and Catherine Kim say “doesn’t explicitly exempt women who perform their own abortions with drugs, leading to speculation about whether they would also be subject to criminal charges.” Some have suggested that the ambiguity of Georgia’s ban could lead to other women suffering similar circumstances as Marshae Jones. The law even suggests that a woman could be charged for conspiracy to murder if caught helping a friend or family member seek an abortion out of state.
Aside from permanently altering the lives of women across the country with a prison sentence, the rhetoric of “heartbeat” bills usually leaves room for something like the horrors of Lysol induced abortions in the mid 20th century, the mortality rate for which Caitlin Flanagan of The Atlantic notes “averaged an astounding 50 to 66 percent.” She outlines that it wasn’t until the 60s that physicians realized how common it was for women to seek an abortion from a third party, unlicensed individual, who often helped induce using dangerous household chemicals.
There are a plethora of reasons why someone might seek out abortion services, and it is not, nor will it ever be, my place to decide at which of them to draw a line in the sand. It is my responsibility, though, to be informed on how abortion laws are not limited to their reach into the uterus.
Public health is contingent on structural realities: laws that inform both what kind of services we can receive and how we are able to seek those services. For so long, the law has focused on painting a black and white picture: a world where abortion is either legal or it isn’t, and much of public discourse reflects this binary.
Abortion, if policed solely on the basis that we cannot harm another human life form, can appear oversimplified. If it were truly as simple as saying a six-week-old fetus deserves the same rights as any other fully grown (and birthed) child, I would ask all those who oppose the medical practice to openly oppose the way countries weaponize sovereignty to wage war, an industry sometimes responsible for thousands of children lost per year. Because that’s really what we’re talking about. Sovereignty.
When we speak about abortion, sovereignty underlies our discourse. We are concerned about the sovereignty of the fetus, of the pregnant woman, of the family unit, etc. But we too often ignore the sovereignty any citizen should be able to exercise over their own health, and their rights to tools that are necessary before pregnancy.
Women who sought out Lysol abortions in the 40s, 50s, and 60s were making a choice based on the absence of realistic alternatives. When abortion is illegal in a society that provides no alternatives – no comprehensive contraceptive education, no family planning facilities – women are forced to make a decision they often never want to be faced with. In some cases, the unfortunate truth is that legalizing abortion fills the voids left by a lack of health care education and access.
Discussion of sovereignty within a binary of “legal-or-not” is made to be polarizing by a failure to recognize that laws could render abortion obsolete in a society that placed its faith in family planning facilities, in contraception education, and equitable access to health care. Instead of women fearing for their lives, they could be hopeful for their futures, and it is within our ability to create that society with the laws we abdicate and advocate for.