Josie Luetke:
When I entered the pro-life movement as a teenager, it seemed to be dominated by neoconservatives, influenced no doubt by former US President George Bush. The feel-good pro-life news stories I hungrily consumed would not uncommonly be complemented by tone-deaf glorification of aggressive American military action. That hawkishness seemed to wane with Donald Trump’s first presidency, but recent wars have somewhat revived it. Even non-interventionist “America First” proponents have callously cheered deaths linked to Immigration and Customs Enforcement.
I don’t expect pro-lifers to take identical positions on every current event, but I’d hope at the very least we’d be united in always viewing the loss of human life as tragic. Beyond that, could we consider what implications the pro-life philosophy has for other issues?
By and large, from grassroots to leadership, pro-lifers oppose euthanasia, regarding it as the end-of-life counterpart to abortion. Decades ago, we warned of the slippery slope: the devaluation of life before birth will inevitably lead to its devaluation afterward. It’s hard to put the genie back into the bottle once we discover that killing is just oh so expedient. Many pro-lifers like myself are also vocal on other social conservative causes, like resistance to the LGBTQ agenda, but outside of them, consensus begins to break down. That is interesting to me because when I found the consistent life ethic as a student, I felt like I finally had an overarching philosophy bridging my moral intuitions on a host of hot topics.
The Consistent Life Network defines what Cardinal Joseph Bernardin called the “consistent life ethic” as “the premise or theory that all human life is inherently valuable, and therefore, that all humans deserve to live without violence.”
The “seamless garment” has gotten a bad rap as some misinterpret it to mean that all moral issues—abortion, homelessness, torture, etcetera—are of equal weight. Some bad actors broaden the pro-life umbrella to include such issues only to downplay or distract from the singular horror of abortion.
Last year, Pope Leo XIV, commenting on Chicago Cardinal Blase Cupich’s plan to award pro-abortion US Senator Dick Durbin, said, “Someone who says, ‘I’m against abortion’ but says, ‘I’m in favor of the death penalty,’ is not really pro-life.” He also cited the “inhuman treatment of immigrants.”
The Pope should have said Durbin’s support for abortion, like support for any mass slaughter of humans, is disqualifying. I don’t think opposition to abortion necessarily requires opposition to the death penalty, as I think it’s possible (though perhaps not always advisable) to draw a distinction between the innocent and guilty. What constitutes inhuman treatment may also be debated. However, depending on how “pro-life” and other terms are defined, the Pope’s remarks could be true—are we truly upholding the sanctity of human life if we are taking it, or treating some humans as subhuman?
When I teach pro-life apologetics, I ask audiences: What grounds our value as human beings? If we are all equal, what justifies this belief in human equality? The answer is our shared humanity (and on a deeper level, the imago dei). Thus, we can’t selectively deny the worth of human beings in one area without undermining the entire principle that such worth is constant and inherent.
The appeal of the consistent life ethic to me is understanding that with this particular anthropology and moral foundation, all issues concerning human dignity are related. Both the left and the right have been reluctant to appreciate this relationship because certain issues are thought to “belong” to a certain side. We should be able to acknowledge a problem, though, without necessarily agreeing on the prescription.
For example, we can agree that when a segment of the population is going hungry, their sanctity of life is not being fully realized, and that should be rectified. We can disagree on whether food insecurity is best addressed through school breakfast programs, lower taxes, or private charity.
That doesn’t mean forgoing any appreciation for prioritization. Pro-life advocates don’t need to all start volunteering at food banks: there is only so much time and so many resources. Abortion and euthanasia—involving the intentional and direct killing of thousands of innocent human beings—present an immediacy that other issues do not.
Yet, hypothetically, on the extreme end, if pro-lifers didn’t blink an eye at people literally starving to death, could we see how that might weaken our integrity? And conversely, could an ideological commitment to advocating for human flourishing in all circumstances lend to our credibility?
To return to a more controversial domain—war—I’ll point out that many of the casualties are innocent women (some pregnant) and children. The message sent with every missile launched and bomb dropped is that killing can be excused if you have a good enough reason. Well, guess what every woman planning to abort thinks she has?
Again, abortion is intentional and direct killing, while victims of war are often just collateral damage. That said, I’m not sure that the knowledge that it’s not personal offers them much consolation when their lives are treated as disposable nonetheless.
Be it abortifacient contraception, smoking, or alcohol, we pro-lifers will still condemn the reckless disregard for the survival and well-being of the pre-born. Where is our same reverence for life amidst war or crime?
Bear with me here: Pro-natalists will criticize those who substitute pets for children as selfish—because a dog can be a lot easier to love and far less demanding than a person. Pro-lifers are sometimes accused of possessing “fetal tunnel vision” or a “fetus fetish.” I am not comparing the pre-born to pets, but I do think there’s something to be said for our loving the baby as a blank slate, an anonymous little one in need.
I challenge pro-lifers to extend their convictions to “complicated” and costlier situations, with victims who may be less sympathetic because of their countries of origin or their perceived guilt. Can we do better?
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.