The abortions we don’t talk about

Why is there so much implicit judgment about what is never a straightforward moral issue?

When I was pregnant with my children, I told people early on – way before the 12-week mark. It’s a decision I don’t regret, particularly when I recall the aftermath of an early miscarriage. Recently, though, I’ve started thinking that I wouldn’t do the same again. It’s not that I’m pregnant now, although you’ll have to take my word for it. The fact is, if I were pregnant, I’m not sure I’d want anyone to know until after I’d had all “the tests”.

I am on the wrong side of 35. The side upon which, apparently, everything goes horribly, horribly wrong, at least if you’re female. Reproductively you’re running out of time but as if that wasn’t bad enough, like Jackie in Footballer’s Wives, you start getting “rotten eggs”. You might still have a baby, but it might not be as healthy as the babies you could have had earlier (we’re assuming you’ve always had money and been in a stable relationship; if not, well, you just don’t deserve a baby, ever). That said, it’s probably best not to worry about it. After all, who do you think you are? You’re not some Nazi eugenicist, you’re a pregnant woman, and it’s time to start acting like one. The trouble is, I’m not sure I’d be prepared to do that.

Every year, there are women who will have late abortions due to the discovery of some form of foetal impairment. In some cases the foetus or baby would die anyhow, so that’s okay (unless we’re in Ireland, in which case, tough; carry your baby to term and watch it die in the name of “life”). But in some cases the pregnancy would lead to a live birth with the baby going on to have a relatively normal life expectancy, yet requiring constant care. I am not sure, as a mother, that I could make that commitment. Neither am I sure that it would be fair to ask the children I already have to take over after I am gone. And as the sibling of someone who does require ongoing care, I’m under no illusions about what how hard it can be and what lies in wait for me. I wouldn’t be able to face more than I already have to. Does that mean someone like me should just never get pregnant again? I think I am an okay mother; surely I am as deserving of this chance as anyone else?

I will be totally honest: when I read or hear potential parents saying that they “wouldn’t care” whether or not their child was seriously disabled, I am just a little bit furious. Furious at the way in which they belittle the impact that serious disability can have on so many people’s lives, and furious at the implicit judgement of those who do care, people who might have good reason not be so glib. Late-term abortions based on foetal impairment are difficult decisions. I don’t know what the “right” decision for an individual should be but anyone, before they embark on such a challenging path, ought to really, really care.

This week the Telegraph is reporting on IVF pregnancies being terminated when women “learn the child is less than perfect”:

Andrea Williams of the group Christian Concern said: “We have to question the values of a society which focuses so greatly on adult ‘wants’.

“That a woman pursues a baby through fertility treatment and then aborts it because it is not perfect is selfish and harsh.”

Do you know, if it wasn’t for all the help my parents and I get from organisations such as Christian Concern and Life and SPUC, this sort of thing would really annoy me. Oh, hang on – we don’t get any help from these self-satisfied, judgmental bullies. Just spite and meanness and pointless words. How dare anyone speak of someone else’s suffering and loss in this way?

It is impossible to write honestly about how difficult being a carer can be because another person – the person you care for – is involved and their dignity has to be preserved. This is why women such as Andrea Williams can make heartless comments about “wants” and “perfection” without others being able to challenge her with the realities of their own lives. I am not suggesting that this type of abortion is a straightforward moral issue – it’s the only instance where your choice is based on the specifics of the foetus, and not you – but I find the attitudes of groups such as Christian Concern hateful. It must be agonising for someone who wants a baby so badly and who has got so far to have to make this choice. I could never argue against it because it’s a choice I’d probably make myself.

And what’s more I think I could make it and still look the person I have to care for straight in the eye and admit to what I’d done. It’s not that I would not want this person to exist. It’s that I wouldn’t want another person with the same wants and needs in our lives. And actually – I have no doubt of this – neither would he.

This post first appeared here on glosswatch.com. Glosswitch is a feminist mother of two who works in publishing.

 

A pregnant woman having some of “the tests”. Photograph: Getty Images

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.

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Inside the progressive alliance that beat Zac Goldsmith in Richmond

Frantic phone calls, hundreds of volunteers, and Labour MPs constrained by their party. 

Politics for a progressive has been gloomy for a long time. On Thursday, in Richmond Park of all places, there was a ray of light. Progressive parties (at least some of them) and ordinary voters combined to beat Ukip, the Tories and their "hard Brexit, soft racist" candidate.

It didn’t happen by accident. Let's be clear, the Liberal Democrats do by-elections really well. Their activists flood in, and good luck to them. But Richmond Park was too big a mountain for even their focused efforts. No, the narrow win was also down to the fast growing idea of a progressive alliance. 

The progressive alliance is both a defensive and offensive move. It recognises the tactical weakness of progressives under first past the post – a system the Tories and their press know how to game. With progressive forces spilt between Labour, Liberal Democrats, Greens, the SNP, Plaid Cymru, the Women’s Equality Party and more – there is no choice but to co-operate, bring in proportional representation and then a whole new political world begins.

This move opens up the wider strategy – to end the domination of the City, and right-wing newspapers like the Mail, so Britain can have a real debate and make real choices about what sort of economy and society it wants. A pipedream? Well, maybe. But last night the fuse was lit in Richmond Park. The progressive alliance can work.

Months before the by-election, the pressure group for a progressive alliance that I chair, Compass, the Greens, and some Labour, Liberal Democrat and SNP MPs and activists, began considering this. The alternative after Brexit was staring into the void.

Then the Tory MP Zac Goldsmith stepped down over Heathrow. To be fair, he had pledged to do this, and we should have been better prepared. In the event, urgent behind-the-scenes calls were made between the Greens and the Liberal Democrats. Compass acted as the safe house. The Greens, wonderfully, clung onto democracy – the local party had to decide. And they decided to stand up for a new politics. Andree Frieze would have been the Green candidate, and enjoyed her moment in the autumn sun. She and her party turned it down for a greater good. So did the Women’s Equality Party.

Meanwhile, what about Labour? Last time, they came a distant third. Again the phones were hit and meetings held. There was growing support not to stand. But what would they get back from the Liberal Democrats, and what did the rules say about not standing? It was getting close to the wire. I spent an hour after midnight, in the freezing cold of Aberdeen, on the phone to a sympathetic Labour MP trying to work out what the party rule book said before the selection meeting.

At the meeting, I am told, a move was made from the floor not to select. The London regional official ruled it out of order and said a candidate would be imposed if they didn’t select. Some members walked out at this point. Where was the new kinder, gentler politics? Where was membership democracy? Fast forward to last night, and the Labour candidate got less votes than the party has members.

The idea of a progressive alliance in Richmond was then cemented in a draughty church hall on the first Tuesday of the campaign – the Unitarian Church of course. Within 48 hours notice, 200 local activist of all parties and none had come together to hear the case for a progressive alliance. Both the Greens and Compass produced literature to make the case for voting for the best-placed progressive candidate. The Liberal Democrats wove their by-election magic. And together we won.

It’s a small victory – but it shows what is possible. Labour is going to have to think very hard whether it wants to stay outside of this, when so many MPs and members see it as common sense. The lurch to the right has to be stopped – a progressive alliance, in which Labour is the biggest tent in the campsite, is the only hope.

In the New Year, the Progressive Alliance will be officially launched with a steering committee, website and activists tool-kit. There will also be a trained by-election hit squad, manifestos of ideas and alliances build locally and across civil society.

There are lots of problems that lie ahead - Labour tribalism, the 52 per cent versus the 48 per cent, Scottish independence and the rest. But there were lots of problems in Richmond Park, and we overcame them. And you know, working together felt good – it felt like the future. The Tories, Ukip and Arron Banks want a different future – a regressive alliance. We have to do better than them. On Thursday, we showed we could.

Could the progressive alliance be the start of the new politics we have all hoped for?

Neal Lawson is the Chair of Compass, the pressure group for the progressive alliance.

Neal Lawson is chair of the pressure group Compass, which brings together progressives from all parties and none. His views on internal Labour matters are personal ones.