Author: Justin DaMetz

Father of Julian and Evelyn, Husband of Tabitha, Christian theologian, writer, 5th grade teacher, book addict, displaced Middle-Earth resident

Pro-Choice and Pro-Life: Against the Texas Abortion Law

I believe two things about the abortion debate. One, I think the act of abortion is a terrible one, I pray a world where there are no abortions, and I can’t imagine ever having to decide to have one (which I never will, as I am a man.) Two, I am ardently in favor of allowing women to make their own decisions about their bodies and their pregnancies, and I think the Texas abortion law passed a few weeks ago is a terrible law that attacks women and is unconstitutional and immoral. In short, you could say I am both pro-life (in that I believe all life has worth and should be protected) and pro-choice. To assert that there is a hard dichotomy between the two is to acquiesce to a politicized debate I refuse to entertain.

The issue of abortion has long been difficult for me. On one hand, I want to stand with women, and I believe it is important that they be able to make the best choices for their lives and their bodies. One the other, I understand the arguments made by serious Christian thinkers around the importance of family, child-bearing, and the arrogance of a humanity that believes it has any semblance of control over just about anything. I have mostly stayed quiet on the issue, trying to walk a line between solidarity with women and a belief that the act of abortion is one of the most difficult situations human beings face. In the end, it has often come down to the fact that I am a man, and I do not ever have to face down the decision personally.

But, as the debate has heated up again recently, and with the passage of the Texas law, I have once again come to understand that my position of leaving it to women – even in the face of my moral misgivings – doesn’t put me in the middle of the abortion debate. In fact, it puts be squarely in the the pro-choice camp. Because that is what it means to be pro-choice: not that you think abortion is an unalloyed good. Not that you want abortions happening all the time. Not that you think abortion should be on the table as a form of birth control. No, pro-choice means that you think this issue is hard, that it contains a lot of gray, that you don’t know what the best choice is for every women in every situation, and so, you would rather leave that choice up to women and their medical care professionals. Being pro-choice means you think government should stay out of the exam room and not make decisions for people.

And, now, being pro-choice means you don’t think it is ok for a state to outsource legal enforcement to vigilantes and bounty hunters. It means that you don’t think conservatives should be able to circumvent constitutional precedence and basic law enforcement by writing a clearly unconstitutional piece of legislation with the sole aim of getting judges on the Supreme Court to let it stand not on its merits, but because they have already decided what outcome they want and thus are willing to rubber stamp just about anything that comes their way.

No matter where you stand on abortion, we should all be on the same page about Texas: the law they have passed – the regime of coercion, fear and enforcement they have directed at women who are already undergoing one of the most difficult times in their entire lives – is unconscionable and shouldn’t be allowed to stand, on both legal and moral grounds. The effective outlaw of Roe in Texas is a blow to the dignity and autonomy of women in that state. Into law has been written the idea that the lives, choices, beliefs and dreams of women don’t count as much as the theoretical future life of a fetus. The desires of those who are anti-abortion have been elevated as the most important in Texas, and the desires of the women who are actually affected by the law have been made last. In addition, Texas has created a legal wild west, opening up a space for vigilante justice, where anyone can be hauled into court at any time if someone even suspects that might want to “assist” abortion by doing something like passing on the phone number of a women’s health clinic or donating money to NARAL. Additionally, that person is now on the hook for forking over $10,000 plus legal fees to their accusers. And if they try to challenge it in court? The state can wash its hands, because enforcement has been outsourced to citizens, a legal scheme as unconstitutional as it is horrifying. This isn’t justice. This isn’t pro-life. This isn’t the land of the free. It’s religious belief made law, a mockery of the rule of law.

The decision to carry a pregnancy to term should not involve the state. Choices made around a difficult or traumatic pregnancy don’t need a federal official to help officiate. For all of the small government blathering of many of the same conservatives who support this law, it’s awfully hard to see this as anything but the imposition of government into the relationship between a women and her doctor. And it has been done in a way that, in another context, would have these conservatives howling with anger and outrage. Can you imagine, for instance, if California wrote a law stating that all personal firearms are illegal, and that instead of the state sending agents to seize guns, they instead deputized every citizen in the state to snitch on any gun owners, and then those same gun owners had to pay those snitches $10k plus legal fees? Fox News would implode. Conservatives would overturn the entire state government in Sacramento. And I agree: that would be a legal travesty! You can’t overturn constitutional rights and precedence by legal trickery. But, this showcases the civic bankruptcy of much of the conservative political movement in America: tactics and values don’t matter as much as the ends achieved. But any means, this law says, conservatives values be damned. It’s utilitarian thinking at its apogee, and it undermines the rule of law that American democracy is founded upon.

And here is the thing: abortion will still happen. Abortion did not start with the advent of Roe, and it will not end with it being struck down. Instead, abortion will go from being the safe confines of a sterile doctor’s office, back to where it once existed, in basements and alleyways and in the dark. Women and babies will die. Being pro-life can’t just mean blind opposition to abortion at all costs. Want to reduce abortions? Support birth control access, sex education in schools, women and children’s health, the elimination of poverty, more monetary support for working families. If you oppose abortion, but also oppose policies that address these things (like universal basic income, universal day care, effective and targeted welfare programs, funding for health care and education) then you aren’t being very pro-life. Study after study shows: reducing abortions comes through these means. If the anti-abortion crowd sunk as much energy and passion and anger into these causes as they did legally attacking women, their doctors and their advocates, then abortion rates would plummet.

But, the priorities of the movement to “protect babies” have never been clearer, thanks to Texas. Its not about better policy and safer birth. Honestly, it probably never was.

I am pro-life and pro-choice. That’s what it means to support women and want more happy, healthy babies and families in America. We must support the right of women to make their own decisions. We must realize that discomfort with and grief at abortion doesn’t require certainty, but instead opens a place of uncertainty and difficulty, and thus, a one-size-fits-all policy response like Texas – or like the repeal of Roe – cannot be the answer. We must give women the space to make the best decision they can, stand with them in grief or joy and above all love when they make decisions, and stop making their lives harder and scarier in the meantime. That is the most compassionate and most Christian thing we can do.

being a Christian does not make you an expert on medical science

The subject of medical science and research has obviously been in the news over the last year, with the Covid-19 pandemic and the race to find and implement effective and safe vaccines. And since this has been the news, of course it has become a political football. Somehow, credible, peer-reviewed and valuable medical research and science has come to be seen as a political agenda or dangerous idea to a good chunk of the American electorate. With the Delta variant spreading quickly, and large swathes of the population remaining unvaccinated despite the best efforts of literally every credible voice in American politics and popular culture to encourage vaccination (not to mention the reams of science and data on the efficacy and overall safety of these vaccines, produced in breathtaking and record-setting time by some of our finest minds), the question of what science to trust and listen to is once again on the front of everyone’s minds.

The politicization of medical science means that, of course, conservative Christian political voices have seized on it and are amplifying the very worst and most damaging claims of right-wing and anti-science voices in their never-ending pursuit of cultural and political influence. Already a hotbed of bad science, anti-vax activism, and conspiracy theories, conservative churches have seized on the idea of Covid vaccines being somehow the mark of the Antichrist, or a conspiracy to oppress religious voices, or somehow a sign of the end times. A concerted effort is underway in many evangelical and conservative churches to discourage their congregants from getting the vaccine, making the ability of our society to get past this pandemic that much more difficult. Many pastors and Christian leaders are using the trust and power placed in them to undermine and discredit science and the best efforts of medical professionals who swore an oath to heal and take care. I can’t imagine a more anti-Christian message to spread.

Here’s the thing many Christians seem to have forgotten: being a Christian does not make you a special expert on other things outside the realm of faith. There is a profound confusion about the role of the Christian faith and the Scriptural witness vis a vis science and medical practice. Many Christians take their faith to be a license of expertise on empirical, researched scientific fact and practice. They seem to believe that being disciples of Christ somehow bestows the ability to make judgments about which science is “good” and which is not.

But, these Christian leaders are wrong. Nothing about being a Christian – even a prominent Christian leader, with Twitter followers and a big church and TV appearances and best-selling books – makes one an expert on any subject matter. Certainly, Christians are not even experts on being Christians. Following Paul, we are all fools, and truth be told, becoming a Christian means learning that as one of the first lessons. But, even less so are we experts on medical science and research, unless of course you are a Christian who also went to medical school and became a doctor or medical researcher. But I’m gonna guess many of the loudest Christian voices second guessing the science of vaccines and public health are not folks who have medical degrees or who are actively engaged in the work of medical research.

The place Christians can speak authoritatively to medicine is in the realm of ethics. Christianity has much to contribute to the conversation about how we practice medicine, about the choices we make in the application of medical science and learning to the lives people live. But notice: this does not include space to second guess or speak ignorantly about the science behind medicine. For example, Christians can have an opinion on the ethics of knee replacement surgery (to choose an anodyne and non-controversial medical practice: this conversation could and has been had about euthanasia, or abortion, or stem cell treatments.) Are knee replacements ethical? Is it something we as a people should do? Is it something we as Christians should condone or practice? How do we care for those who have the surgery? What about when the surgery fails? Can Scripture speak to our care for those with bad knees? Is there a better way to treat those with bad knees? Now, yes, this is a rather tongue-in-cheek example. Nobody, outside of Jehovah’s Witnesses I suppose, has a problem with knee replacements. But, the questions posed here are the kinds of ethical questions Christians are trained to ask and think about. Where we aren’t qualified to speak is on the science of how knees work, or the medical science behind how to complete a knee replacement surgery, or the medicine required to ensure the patient is comfortable and survives the treatment. Those are specialized questions of medical science, outside the realm of faith and what can be known as a result of being a follower of Christ.

Likewise, in the case of Covid and vaccines, Christians can certainly speak on methods of ensuring public health, on the ethics of enforced vaccination regimes, on the best societal practices to limit transmission. Christians should not, on the other hand, be spreading bogus science about the safety of vaccines, about vaccination as a legitimate practice of large-scale disease control, about conspiracy-laden understandings of what is in the vaccine, or about the scientific efficacy of vaccination on marginalized and high-risk communities. To deny the science is to deny the reason God gave us as human beings, the reason that drove the medical science and research that led to the breakthrough in vaccines as a medical practice, and today in its usefulness in battling Covid.

This is hard for some Christians, because they desperately want the Bible to speak authoritatively and clearly on every subject conceivable, when it just doesn’t. For instance, the Bible doesn’t tell me anything about how to replace the starter on my Kia, and any Christian leader who tries to convince me it does is just full of shit, and probably trying to coerce me into submitting myself to them and ultimately enriching them in some way. Likewise, the Bible simply says nothing about how to conduct medical research, how to set up a pharmaceutical trial, or which protein compounds are active in the healing process. You may want the Bible to speak to these things, for various reasons (usually related to political commitments), but the fact is, it just doesn’t. And that’s ok! God gave us good brains and the ability to figure this stuff out, and specifically, God imbued some people with a talent and aptitude for this kind of work. We should listen to and generally trust those people! And likewise, they should listen to people like Christians when making ethical decisions about the application of all that science and learning. But, when you start trying to make the Bible a science book, you are making a terrible mistake, one that marks you as someone reasonable people should not take seriously in these conversations.

Now, none of this should not be construed as me saying that science is unassailable, or perfect in its practices and conclusions. Far from it. But, criticism of science must derive from within the realm of scienctific enquiry and practice, not faith, because science speaks a different language than faith. Christians have a lot of say about the practice of medicine. We don’t have much to say, Scripturally and ecclesiastically, on the development of medical science and its conclusions on disease. Science is not faith. The Bible is not a medical textbook.

Here is what science tells us: vaccines work. The Covid vaccines work remarkably well. Covid is a deadly and dangerous virus that spreads through the air. Masks work to slow the spread. Distancing works to slow the spread. No one is immune to Covid. Medical science has spent decades developing the tools and empirical practices to come to these conclusions, and the large majority of medical practicioners (including Dr. Anthony Fauci) are smart, good people doing the hard work of trying to keep people safe and alive.

Here is what our Christian faith should tell us: trust the science. Pastors are not medical doctors. Doing your best to limit the spread of a deadly disease, by social distancing and masking up and getting vaccinated, is the Christian work of loving your neighbor as yourself. Conspiracy theories and the politics of fear are competitors with God for our allegiance, not helpful tools to become better Christians, and should be rejected. Christians can and should think hard about how we apply the medical knowledge we gain towards the end of healing and caring for others; but Christians are simply not qualified by dint of being Christians to reject medical science and research. If your preferred Christian leader or voice tries to act otherwise, you should probably rethink your affinity for them.

Wear a mask.

Social distance.

Stay informed.

Trust our doctors and medical professionals.

And please, for the love of all things good, get vaccinated if you can.

nuance

I’ve been thinking about why writing publicly has become so difficult for me recently. I struggle to get coherent ideas down that I feel are ready to share with others, and stand up under the scrutiny of a reader. I have lots and lots of half-formed ideas (you should see my draft folder.) But stuff that makes it past the “Publish” button is rather rare anymore.

I really think this is because I have embraced a set of worldviews and ideas that require a lot of nuance and parsing, that aren’t easily applied in a quick way to the events of the world. And that fact, alongside the danger of being very quickly denounced or branded in some way as an undesirable based on a misunderstanding of the nuance I am embracing, has put the brakes on my desire to share much out in public anymore. I’m trying to overcome that fear.

I recently read this piece at Persuasion by Yascha Mounk, about the dangers of what he calls “180ism.” This is the tendency to set our opinions not based on fixed principles or virtues, but rather in opposition to what the “other side” thinks about an issue. Thus, if the person I perceived as my opponent believes X, then I must believe Y, because I surely couldn’t believe X if they do. This worldview doesn’t leave much room to explore options Z, or W, or V, because a key component of 180ism is that once I’ve committed to Y, then everything else becomes the X I know I hate. And this really captures where I am. Most of positions and ideas have swam into areas outside of that X-Y dualism, and I worry about alienating old and important friends and allies and being labeled as dangerous in some way. So, I choose to not opine nearly as much anymore.

Anyways, like I said, I’m trying to overcome that worry. I hope I’ll be given a fair hearing if I do.