First Person: Why I am a pro-life atheist
by Oxford Students for Life
A new series in which contributors discuss what being pro-life means to them. Our first piece is by Robert Stagg, a PhD student in English at the University of Southampton.
A couple of weeks after I agreed to write this blogpost, a friend handed me a book she had published: Poems That Make Grown Men Cry. The book sat at the bottom of a pile for another couple of weeks, and I cast a suspicious glance at it every night before going to bed. Everything about the title seemed wrong. What’s the difference between a man and a “grown” man, or is the adjective only there as a sentimental intensifier? And the title’s “that make” was presumptuous to the point of seeming imperative, insisting upon the book’s efficacy even before I’d opened it. This is all to ignore the most obvious objection to the book: the idea that men shouldn’t or don’t cry (an objection which, unlike the others, is at least addressed by the anthology’s editors).
Realising that these poor relations with an inanimate object could only continue at the expense of my sanity, I decided to pick up the book. I started to read and didn’t stop until I reached a poem by Gwendolyn Brooks (selected by Terrance Hayes) titled ‘The Mother’ (1945).
The poem can be read here.
Straight after reading it, I (a grown man) cried uncontrollably for at least five minutes.
Why? The poem had, as poems often do, lent force to a question that had been bothering me for a few years: if scientists can’t draw a clear line between a foetus and a human being, is our culture then killing human beings? There is no scientific answer to the question as to when a so-called foetus becomes a so-called human being, and this ought to cause severe and sincere distress among those who otherwise appreciate science. Philosophers have tried stepping into the breach, but with surprisingly undeft footing. First there have been attempts to locate the humanity of an organism in its consciousness, a typically brainy move for a brainy philosopher to make. Yet kindred philosophers are finding consciousness itself puzzling, and scientists are still unable to locate the presence or node or origin of consciousness in the body. More recently, philosophers have attempted to distinguish between ‘human beings’ and ‘people’ or ‘persons’; but, again, these debates tend to circle back upon consciousness.
I cannot think of any other area of science or public policy that is so incautiously policed as that around abortion. Given the radical and fundamental uncertainties about the division – or, rather, the current lack of a division – between foetuses and human beings, it seems wildly dangerous to permit a process like abortion to continue in its present form.
You will notice that I have not yet used the words ‘soul’ or ‘ensoulment’, often and erroneously seen as crucial to the abortion debate. That is because I am not religious, and nor do I share some of the larger philosophical convictions about life which motivate much of the pro-life movement. Instead my argument makes reference to science – without paying it, or its practitioners, obeisance – and to ethics. It appeals to the poetry of Gwendolyn Brooks, and her heartbreaking perceptions of potentiality (delivered via pun, of all things): “You remember the children you got that you did not get”.
Nor have I yielded to the mis- and distrust of women that can animate sections of the abortion debate. Brooks’s poem is delicate and sympathetic on this point, gliding between a detached (but not disinterested) narrative voice and the first-person dramatic monologue of a mother who has had more than one abortion. The poem ends with the insistent iterations of a woman who is unable to evade her own evasiveness: “Believe me, I loved you all. / Believe me, I knew you, though faintly, and I loved, I loved you / All”. This reader, at least, inclines to believe her.
I have argued with fellow atheists and agnostics about abortion in two ways. One: by setting out the critical gaps in scientific knowledge about abortion, and the inability of philosophers to fill or bridge those gaps. Two: by reading Gwendolyn Brooks’s poem. The first provokes the irrational outrage of those whose rationality has been challenged. The second provokes silence and, often, tears. Sometimes I should like to think that those reactions could be reversed; but only sometimes.
Hmm, putting my own opinion regarding abortion aside, I have some criticism here.
He doesn’t exactly know what science is.
-“There is no scientific answer to the question as to when a so-called foetus becomes a so-called human being, and this ought to cause severe and sincere distress among those who otherwise appreciate science.”
Basically, this is called “The Sorites’ Paradox” and science doesn’t really care about it.
Imagine having a pile of sand, and every day you add a spoon of sand to that pile of sand.
There is no “scientific answer” as to when the so-called pile of sand becomes a so-called mountain of sand.
Because whether that collection of sand is a pile of sand or a mountain of sand is a mere definition.
The problem is a problem of language and definitions and less of a scientific problem.
Science doesn’t really care about which words you use.
Feel free to call me a “Human being” or a “pile of interconnected cells”
And feel free to call a foetus a “foetus” or an “underdeveloped human being” or a “single cell”
It makes no difference to science. The author is representing this as an unresolved scientific issue when in fact it’s a philosophical, definition-related issue.
-“scientists are still unable to locate the presence or node or origin of consciousness in the body.”
It’s in the brain. This has been shown many times over. This may not be the best example, but cutting one’s finger does not alter their personality (Excluding the fact that any experience alters us),
But banging someone in the head or performing brain surgery may alter their personality, opinion, perception of life, state of mind, conciousness, etc. The classical example is the case of Mr “Phineas Gage”.
-“Instead my argument makes reference to science – without paying it, or its practitioners, obeisance”
Science doesn’t have “practitioners”, it is not a religion. You are not required to “obey” it, in fact you are encouraged to prove it wrong because it is dynamic and welcoming to change.
“scientists are still unable to locate the presence or node or origin of consciousness in the body.”
“It’s in the brain. . . . banging someone in the head or performing brain surgery may alter their personality, opinion, perception of life, state of mind, conciousness, etc.”
Maybe the two of you are using “consciousness” differently. What is your def. of “consciousness”
Thanks for a good presentation.
Whether the unborn is a human being is not the only question. Many pro-choicers argue that a woman has the right to refuse to let her body be used by any human being without her permission; what then happens to that human being is not her fault.
Personally, I have thought about that argument here:
http://www.NoTerminationWithoutRepresentation.org/dismantling-the-bodily-rights-argument-without-using-the-responsibility-argument/
Great post! I’m a pro-life atheist as well, and my group focuses on addressing the philosophical arguments raised by the pro-choice camp. I’d love to have you network with us at Pro-Life Humanists!
Please feel free to message me through the web site. I’d love to chat! 🙂 http://www.prolifehumanists.org
[…] Previously in this series: Robert Stagg, ‘Why I am a pro-life atheist’. […]
“her heartbreaking perceptions of potentiality” – there are a lot of “potential people” who could exist, but that doesn’t make it our duty to make as many people as we can. One might say that in an abortion, the person already exists, but that’s exactly the debate. The whole question is whether a human at those early stages is a person. And that question isn’t settled by using a poem to tug at the heart strings.
Your saying —
“And that question isn’t settled by using a poem to tug at the heart strings”
— indicates that the author is trying to settle the question, which I agree he is. So I think the author also thinks that “The whole question is whether a human at those early stages is a person,” and doesn’t need to be told that. (Though I disagree with both of you that that is the whole question. See below.)
The author says, “The poem had . . . lent force to a question . . .: if scientists can’t draw a clear line between a foetus and a human being, is our culture then killing human beings?” Considering the contents of the poem, he seems to mean that if an unborn organism has the potential for the characteristics and behavior of a born person, then it is already a person (of the unborn variety), or at least should be treated as a person.
His evidence that it is already a person or should be treated as a person is the poem.
“And that question isn’t settled by using a poem to tug at the heart strings.”
What can it be settled by?
Even if it could be settled that the unborn is a person, it seems to me that that would not settle the question of whether it can be killed. I commented on that to the author on December 8, and included a link.