Aethics: On Abortion

 

Aethics is what I’m tentatively calling my own attempt at an objective (or at least only human-subjective) moral philosophy. The idea being that by incorporating ideas from Epicureanism and Utilitarianism you can come to a fact-based, rational and logical moral decision on difficult problems. There’s some important key components to this though:

  • Facts first: Any decision must be based on facts.
  • Provisional: An ‘aethical’ point of view accents that any decision made through it is provisional, not absolute.
  • Situational: Any moral or ethical decision depends on context. What is wrong in one instance may not be wrong in another. No decision is set or settled in its entirety.
  • Emotions & Feelings Have Value: People’s emotional pain should be taken into account and weighed up in a decision.
  • Strive for Objectivity: While emotions have value and meaning they should not guide the moral decisions.

Given recent objectionable events in the US (and oh, there’s been so many) and a couple of discussions from anti-abortion atheists it felt like this would be a good subject to take these thoughts on a test-run.  I am not used to seeing anti-abortion sceptics and atheists and it was disappointing to see that they had no real, co/gent or fact-based arguments against abortion.

What’s the Goal?

To maximise liberty, minimise pain and to consider what is the best possible course of action in most circumstances.

 

What are the Facts?

What are the facts that might influence our decision whether abortion is right or wrong?

  • Scientific consensus is that a foetus cannot even potentially feel pain until at least the 24th week.
  • The very first stuttering of foetal consciousness occur around 20 weeks but this is intermittent, they’re only synchronous and ongoing from 27 weeks. The best evidence that we have that the transition has been made from ‘lump of flesh’ to a human being.
  • In the UK elective abortion is allowed up to 24 weeks.
  • In the UK abortion for medical reasons (mental or physical problems for the mother, or deformity and issues for the foetus) is allowed later.
  • In the UK 91% of abortions take place beneath 13 weeks.
  • Medical abortions made up 47% of abortions in the UK.
  • 1% of abortions were due to foetal deformity.
  • Abortions cause distress and regret is some people (whether this is down to abortion itself or social disapproval is unclear).
  • This is a contentious public issue.
  • Unwanted children or children raised in care are more likely to be societal problems as a demographic.
  • Contraception fails.
  • It is unrealistic to expect people not to have sex.
  • An unwanted pregnancy can curtail a woman’s academic or professional career.
  • The man may not want to be a father as much as the woman may not want to be a mother.

What Can I Conclude and What’s the Reasoning?

Given that what defines our humanity is our consciousness we can consider abortion completely problem free up to 24 weeks. Nothing is being lost, nothing we should rationally consider human is being lost and there’s no question of the foetus feeling, comprehending or understanding pain. Given the relative uncertainty over brain function this is probably the best cut-off point for elective abortion in any case.

Given that a foetus can probably feel pain after 24 weeks abortions after this period should include anaesthesia to prevent needless suffering on even the most basic level.

In the case of medical abortions past 24 weeks we need to consider what does the most or the least harm. When it comes to mental distress and illness this is more difficult to process but mental illness is real illness and pregnancy and birth can be stressful and even life threatening to someone with mental issues. It should be treated as seriously, then, as physical risks to the mother. Ultimately, the mother – a fully realised, actualised, thinking, feeling human being with experience, talents and societal contributions has more inherent worth by any measure than a potential human being.

How should we approach the interface between the desires of the mother and the father in the case of an unwanted pregnancy?

It is the mother’s body and thus, ultimately, it has to be her decision. We cannot ethically either force a woman to become a brood mare or force her to get an abortion. Either would be an absolute violation of personal autonomy and would devalue a real and present human being compared to a potential human being.

unwanted pregnancyWe cannot ignore the role of men in this though. An unexpected pregnancy can and does create a burden for the father that they may not want and over which they are given no choice. If we are to respect the personal autonomy of the mother we must also respect the personal autonomy of the father. Since the father cannot either demand a pregnancy be continued nor that it be aborted we have a problem. A man who wishes the child to be carried to term is simply out of luck. There is no way to compensate him for the loss of his potential offspring without causing a very negative effect on others. There is no simple way to negotiate this issue. The other way around we do have an option though. An unplanned, unexpected or accidental pregnancy that a man does not wish brought to term he might be able to legally disconnect himself from his responsibility to that child. A sort of ‘legal abortion’ that allows him to evade child support and other responsibilities for a child he never wanted, in exchange for giving up all rights and claims to that child.

I think I’ve covered the main issues here. If I’ve missed anything or you see a flaw in the reasoning, please let me know.

The Minch who Forced Christmas

Every Bright down in Bright-ville liked the winter season…

But the Minch, who lived just North of Bright-ville, demanded “A REASON!”

The Minch hated secular wintertime fun!
Now, please don’t ask why. No one knows, he’s a bum.
It could be that his brain wasn’t screwed in just right.
It could be, perhaps that his pants were too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason for his libel
May have been down to his love for the bible.

But, whatever the reason,
His bible or pants,
He stood there in winter, hating the Brights,
Staring down from his pulpet with a sour, Minchy frown
At all the damn heathens, below in their town.
For he knew every Bright down in Bright-ville beneath
Was busy now cooking their wintertime feast.

“And they’re wrapping their presents!” He snarled with a sneer.
“Tommorow is CHRISTmas! It’s practically here!”
Then he growled, with his minch fingers nervously strumming,
“I must find a way to force CHRISTmas upon ’em!”
For, tomorrow he knew…

…All the Bright girls and boys
Would wake up BRIGHT and early. They’d rush for their presents!
And then! Oh, lord Mammon! The one RESENTS! RESENTS! RESENTS!

Then the Brights, young and old, would sit down to a lunch.
And they’d lunch And they’d lunch!
And they’d LUNCH! LUNCH! LUNCH! LUNCH!
They would start on Chinese and rare curried-beast
Which was something the Minch couldn’t stomach the least!

And THEN
They would do something he liked least of all.
Not one Bright in Bright-ville, the big or the small,
Would offer a prayer or visit the church.
They’d waddle to the TV with an unsteady lurch!

They’d sit! And they’d sit!
And they’d SIT! SIT! SIT! SIT!
And the more the Minch thought of their ungodly sitting.
The more the Minch thought, “I must force their god-getting!”
“Why for a couple of years I’ve put up with it now!”
“I must club them with Jesus!”
“But – goddamnit – HOW?”

Then he got an idea!
An awful idea!
The Minch
Got a wonderful, awful idea!

“I know just what to do!” The Minch laughed in his throat.
And he made a quick cross and a Jesus Christ cloak.
And he gloated and chortled, “What a great Minchy trick!”
“With this I can give ’em the saviour schtick!”

“All I need is an angel…”
The Minch looked around.
But since angels aren’t real, there was none to be found.
Did that stop the old Minch…?”
No! The Minch simply said,
“If I can’t find an angel, I’ll make one instead!”
So he made up some nonsense about people with wings
And if anyone questioned, he beat them with things.

THEN

He loaded some boxes
And old shopping bags
On a ramshackle cross
Which to Bright-ville he dragged.

Then the Minch said “Huzzah!”
And he dragged the cross down
Toward the homes where the Brights
Lay asleep in their town.

All their windows were black. Icy chill filled the air.
All the Brights were all dreaming of a future most fair.
Then he came to the first house, there, in the square.
“This is stop number one,” The old Minch-Jesus grumbled
And he smashed down the door “PRAISE THE LORD!” His voice rumbled.

Then he smashed all their toys and their pagan display.
For trees are from Satan, or so he would say.
His cross stuck in the door, for a moment or three,
Then he dragged it inside, in place of the tree.
“Repent sinners! He cried as he ruined their day
With a smile on his face, oh the godless would pay.

Then he strutted and shouted with a gurn most revolting
When the family woke he was very insulting
“Dawkins and Dennett and Sam Harris too!”
“You’re going to HELL there’s no mercy for you!”
And leaving them confused, their holiday wrecked
He pressed bibles upon them, then outside he schlepped.

He trudged to the next house, a scientist’s place!
He burned all his textbooks and spat in his face.
“Don’t you know?” He said “There’s been revolution!”
“Behe has proven there’s NO EVOLUTION!”

He ripped down decorations and shat on their feast.
“S’not me.” He declared. “It’s GOD with the beef!”

And the Minch grabbed a pagan and punched them quite rough
When he heard a small sound, sounding out like a cough.
He turned around quick and he saw a small Bright.
Little Righty-Right Bright, who was always quite right.

The Minch had been cornered by this little Bright daughter
Who’d heard all the noise and had assumed a slaughter.
She stared at the Minch and said, “Who are you?”
“Because Jesus is myth AND not a wanker like you!”

But, you know, that old Minch was a stubborn fanatic
He gathered himself for he never would panic.
“Why, my sweet little girl…” And he gave a quotation
That stemmed from the bible – his only fixation.
That said unto her, in no uncertain terms
you must honour god or in hell you will burn.

And his lies scared the child, then he smacked her small head
And left her unconcious for Catholics to bed.
And while Righty-Right suffered at the hands of the priests
He had no guilty conscience, not one bit in the least!

Then the last thing he did
Was, he warned of hell fire
Then out he went, the callous old liar
In their house he left little, but murderous ire.

And the one thing he left
When he ravished the house
Was scripture fallacious and spit from his mouth.

Then he did the same thing to the other Bright’s houses.

Leaving drool and invective, from angers he rouses.

It was quarter past nine
All the Brights out of bed
All the Brights not a snoozing
As the Minch-bastard fled.
He’d smashed all their presents and burned all their books
Insulted philosophers, called scientists crooks!

Four-thousand feet up! Up the side of Mount Todd
“Now they’ll have no choice left but turning to god!”
“They’re finding out just how little it means”
“Without god in their lives how mean it must seem!”
“They’ll be wailing and gnashing, turning to the Lord!”
“They’ll be crying and sobbing and out of their gourd!”

“That’s a triumph” Grinned the Minch,
“To which I must lend an ear.”
So he paused and he quietened, the better to hear.
And he did hear a sound, and so he bit his knuckle.
It wasn’t a sob or a moan… but a chuckle.

This sound wasn’t pained,
His head gave a nod
Could it be that they were not…
Crying out to his god?

He glared down at Bright-ville
And his face turned quite red
The people weren’t moaning
To church they’d not fled!

Every Bright down in Bright-ville, the big and the small,
Were rolling their eyes, were they pained, not at all!
He hadn’t forced Christmas, turned them to the Lord
They were laughing, AT HIM, he was quite appalled!

And the Minch, with his Minch hands, rimed with the frost.
Stood puzzling and worrying, did they not know the cost?
“I brought wrath upon them, I worked to deceive”
“But still good-god’s grace they will not recieve!”
And he stood there three hours, while his heart sank much lower
Could it be they were right, was he stupid or just slower?
“Maybe winter…” He thought “Doesn’t depend on Jesus.”
“Maybe it’s just time to warm up from sneezes and freezes.”

And what happened then…?
Well, in Bright-ville they say
That the Minch’s small brain
Grew 6 IQ points that day!
And the minute his brain had lit up oh-so bright
He didn’t believe, in a FLASH of insight!

He whizzed back to down with the cash from his church
Found those he’d wronged – it wasn’t much of a search
And he bought them new presents, new trees, decorations
And joined in with their secular year-celebrations
Then he raised up his glass and he cried, with good cheer

“There’s no reason for the season, it just IS…
Is that clear?”