In this post, I will discuss the two major questions that intersect abortion and philosophy: First, the question of when life begins, focusing on philosopher Mary Ann Warren. And second, the question of liberty, focusing on the dying violinist by philosopher Judith Jarvis Thomson.
Before reading this post, I would recommend reading my first article: #1 How to be a Pro-Life Democrat and then my second article: #2 Abortion Fallacies: Bad Arguments You Hear Everyday.
To save you from any false expectations, I will not presently solve the question of when life begins. Instead, I will simply critique some of the ideas put forth by others regarding the subject, thus leaving the question open-ended for you to decide.
In her essay, “On the Moral and Legal Status of Abortion“, philosopher Mary Anne Warren states a difference between being a human being (a question of genetics) and a human person (a question of morality), accepting that a fetus is the former but not the latter. She writes that “personhood”, in the sense of moral humanity, can be seen in the following traits, and that you must hold at least 2 or more of these traits in order to be considered a “person”:
- Consciousness (of objects and events external and/or internal to the being), and in particular the capacity to feel pain;
- Reasoning (the developed capacity to solve new and relatively complex problems);
- Self-motivated activity (activity which is relatively independent of either genetic or direct external control);
- The capacity to communicate, by whatever means, messages of an indefinite variety of types, that is, not just with an indefinite number of possible contents, but on indefinitely many possible topics;
- The presence of self-concepts, and self-awareness, either individual or racial, or both.
My criticisms are as follows:
- Both comatose patients and human infants do not satisfy more than 1 trait (#1). As a result, although some take issue with my classification of comatose patients, Warren herself has admitted that infants are not “persons” by her own criteria, and thus infanticide can be justified under certain circumstances. Although this, in and of itself, ought to be enough to disregard Warren’s essay, I will continue nonetheless as her argument is one of the most popular in our society and points to many other important philosophers who have different criterion for “personhood”, which still fail to answer my following criticisms.
- Warren claims that “we have no right to assume that genetic humanity is necessary for personhood”, however she gives no philosophical nor scientific proof on the matter. Why must there be a difference between a “human being” and “human person”? I see no reason to believe such a theory.
- Even if you accept the difference between “being” and “person”, Warren attempts to arbitrarily pull a definition of “personhood” out of thin air, offering no metaphysical nor epistemological proof for her 5 traits (nor proof that you must have only have 2 or more attributes). Thus the only way one can measure her definition is by sheer practicality, which it fails according to my 1st criticism.
- The 5 traits are reflective of what people do, but not of their human nature. Thus Warren simply ignores the philosophical implications of function versus being, which is absolutely crucial to the question of “personhood”.
- Lastly, Warren tries to distinguish between humans and animals, and then attempts to compare that to human fetuses. However, this analogy is fallacious at worst and unproven at best.
Rather than basing “personhood” on a fetus’s psychological features, I believe it should be based on a being’s natural/inherent capacities: You have a right to life based on your genetic or natural capacity to develop these psychological traits. And since all human beings have this propensity, life would thus begin at conception. Some critics argue that such a view leads to questions of comatose patients living on a ventilator having a right to live. However, I would argue that such a question, although important, is meager in comparison to the question of abortion, thus satisfying a certain degree of progress.
Although there are many philosophers with claims about what defines “life” and when it begins, one can only be sure that the truth continues to allude us.
Moving on, philosopher Judith Jarvis Thomson wrote an essay titled, “A Defense of Abortion“. Although another popular essay to cite, Thomson’s piece only works in the case of rape, and nothing else.
Basically the argument goes like this:
You wake up in the morning and find yourself back to back in bed with an unconscious violinist. A famous unconscious violinist. He has been found to have a fatal kidney ailment, and the Society of Music Lovers has canvassed all the available medical records and found that you alone have the right blood type to help. They have therefore kidnapped you, and last night the violinist’s circulatory system was plugged into yours, so that your kidneys can be used to extract poisons from his blood as well as your own. [If he is unplugged from you now, he will die; but] in nine months he will have recovered from his ailment, and can safely be unplugged from you.
Thomson claims that one who has sex does not fully understand the risks and consequences involved (especially if they use birth control), and thus ought not to be responsible for the repercussions. Sadly, this idea is ludicrous. Whenever you have sex, with or without protection, there is always the possibility of having a baby or getting an STD; abstinence is the only perfect form of protection. As a result, consensual sex automatically makes you responsible for any consequences therein.
Notwithstanding, it should be admitted that Thomson’s argument is very persuasive in the one case for which you’re not responsible: rape. Luckily, as stated previously (and partially due to this essay), I do not argue that abortion ought to be outlawed for the 1% of abortions due to rape. However, for those of you who may believe abortion ought not be allowed even in the case of rape, I would recommend you taking this essay into consideration.
Finally, as a last post to sum up the more basic aspects of the abortion debate, I encourage you to read: #4 A Practical Guide to Abortion.
3 Comments until now.
[...] truth, I will next delve into the philosophy behind this debate. I encourage you to read on - #3 Abortion: A Philosophy of Life and Liberty Filed Under: The FrayTagged: abortion, alive, Bible, childbirth, choose, democrat, evangelical, [...]
[...] article: #2 Abortion Fallacies: Bad Arguments You Hear Everyday. and then my third article: #3 Abortion: A Philosophy of Life and Liberty. If you’re interested in the issue of President Obama and his views on abortion and BAIPA, I [...]
The reply to Judith Jarvis Thomson for the case of rape (and incest–only it’s a family member who put you in the situation, not a stranger). Her argument only describes the dilemma and then is only partially analogous to the situation. This story is only similar to the problem in that “she” had no choice in the matter. The unique choice she then faces is largely ignored. Thomson seems to know this when she picked a sympathetic character–a “famous violinist” over “no one in particular?” The special relationship between the child and mother is unlike the violinist, the child is a direct descendant, her genetic heir, son or daughter–hers as well as the rapist’s. This child may be a repulsive reminder of the crime, granted, but so may a building or a piece of music or a statue in a park. Do we offer to destroy these for her? And if she wanted us to do so, even if the property was owned by the rapist, we (justly) would not do destroy it to make up for the crime. We only offer to kill her baby.
Furthermore and primarily she does not address the injustice to the person of the child. The person—the “violinist,” was not the conception of the victim to whom she was forcibly connected. This distinction is paramount. To “disconnect” (abort) is to punish your own child for the crime(s) of the kidnapper, doctor and violinist (rapist). The ‘violinist analogy’ fails to address this fact entirely. It hardly seems just or responsible to kill the child for one of their parent’s crime, especially when the crime itself is not punishable by death.
Practically what does it accomplish? Does it erase or the crime? Does it alleviate the effects of the crime. Does it save further trauma? Many women describe abortion as a second rape. Does it put the mother in a morally well state–having now added choosing to kill her own child to her personal history? Should we have the state enforce abortion in such cases to protect the mother from responsibility for the death of her child? What about the parents who are eager to adopt this child? How can it even be said that this child is not wanted?
Lastly, what of the personhood of the child? Was the violinist also kidnapped? Unlike the famous violinist in Thomson’s analogy, the rape victim’s child is as innocent as she is.
Thomson’s argument also discloses an elitist attitude on her inclusion of “famous violinist.” Does every mother want to raise a famous or great child? No. Mothers want to raise their child–whoever they turn out to be, hopes and fears not withstanding. A mother might say, “If I can’t have a famous child, I don’t want one? That is fine as a reason for not getting pregnant. It is no excuse for murder.
Thomson is appealing to the idea that a great and famous person is superior, more appealing, more lovable, that they have more personhood than the rest of us. What will it be? “All men are created equal, endowed by their Creator…” or “all men are equal, it’s just that some are more equal than others.” It is either one or the other, can’t be both.
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