Pope Francis: not as cuddly as he looks. Photo: Franco Origlia/Getty Images
Show Hide image

It would be great to have a progressive, kind Pope. Sadly, Pope Francis isn’t it

Pope Francis has been lauded for the green focus of his latest encyclical. But in his attitude to overpopulation and women’s rights, he is justifying exactly the sort of exploitation he is supposedly against.

Isn’t it great to have a nice Pope? A Pope who speaks out against manifestly bad things like poverty, slavery and – in his most recent encyclical – the devastation of the environment by human rapaciousness? Well, yes it is. Even someone as partisan to secularism as me can see that a holy man preaching compassion and generosity is an improvement on any number of deathly reasonable atheists. It shouldn’t matter where the impulse to goodness comes from, so long as the impulse is good.

But the thing is, sometimes it does matter. Some things come so deeply embedded in a belief system that they can’t just be shrugged off for the sake of a good message, and this is how it goes with the Encyclical Letter of the Holy Father Francis on Care for our Common Home.

However much there is to applaud in the Pope’s commentary on pollution, extinction and global warming (and at times he comes on almost like a member of radical environmentalist group Deep Green Resistance), his message has a kind of original sin in it that makes the entire argument flawed beyond use, and it’s this: in its language, its analysis and its conclusions, the entire thing treats human females more like a natural resource to be judiciously exploited than like actual people with a stake in the world.

This is obvious right from the opening of the encyclical, which describes “our common home” as “like a sister with whom we share our life and a beautiful mother who opens her arms to embrace us.” If the earth is explicitly female, it’s because the “we” here is implicitly not: we’re in the realm of the male default subject, and the earth is imagined to care for us because the earth is imagined to be a woman, and woman are supposed to be caring and fecund by nature.

It comes out too when the encyclical talks about “brother sun, sister moon, brother river and mother earth” – such elegantly complementary gendered pairs, and it just so happens that in each of them the masculine part is active and the feminine passive. The sun shines, the moon reflects; the river flows, and the earth is flowed through. This kind of hackneyed thinking about what men and women are for is so obvious that is should be embarrassing, even for a religion with a substantially lousy record on its treatment of women.

But of course, it takes more than sexism to embarrass a Pope, which is why he pushes right on to condemn the very idea of population control. “Instead of resolving the problems of the poor and thinking of how the world can be different, some can only propose a reduction in the birth rate,” complains the encyclical. “At times, developing countries face forms of international pressure which make economic assistance contingent on certain policies of ‘reproductive health’.” (Scare quotes Pope’s own.)

Of course there is no absolute Malthusian number at which we become too many. The amount that wealthy humans waste could easily compensate for the wants of the struggling. But equally, it’s inane to pretend that the planet is anything other than finite, and the more humans there are, the more must be extracted from the finite world to support us. At some point our population will become unsustainable, even if it hasn’t already.

And here’s the other thing: the only way that we will keep driving towards that catastrophic mass of humanity is if we keep women powerless, ignorant and without access to means of controlling their own fertility. The Pope can object all he likes to aid programmes including family planning, but the truth is that this is something women actually want. Pregnancy is difficult and dangerous for the people who get pregnant. Unsurprisingly, most women would rather only do it a limited number of times – if at all.

Research by the Guttmacher institute found that one of the most important factors in determining family size is the education of the mother. This isn’t because bluestockings acquire some kind of uppity idea that they’re too good to breed. In fact, as the report explains, “poorly educated women share the same small family norm as educated women, but they are less successful at implementing it.”

In other words, to be against population control is to be against women deciding the use of their own bodies, because whenever women have choice, the choice they make is usually to have fewer children. But before women can make decisions, they have to be treated as human, and that’s something this encyclical refuses to do. Women are inert, orbiting, the medium that fosters the active life of the (male) beings who are allowed to count. It’s a belief that’s bound up entirely with domination and control; it is a way of seeing the world that justifies exactly the sort of exploitation the encyclical is supposedly against. It’s misogynistic, solipsistic and disastrous. But still. Wouldn’t it be great to have a nice Pope?

Sarah Ditum is a journalist who writes regularly for the Guardian, New Statesman and others. Her website is here.

Photo: Getty
Show Hide image

Jess Phillips's Diary: Lazy attacks on “lazy MPs”, and how to tackle the trolls

The Labour MP for Birmingham Yardley takes us through her week.

As parliament kicked us out for the conference recess season on 14 September, several tabloids run the predictable story: “MPs go back on holiday today only NINE days after returning to parliament from a six-week summer break.” I imagine the journalist who churns it out hates doing the same tired “all MPs are lazy baddies” shtick as much as we hate having to rebut the nonsense idea that we are on holiday when we are working full-time in our constituencies.

Legislation is on holiday, not legislators. I have still yet to find an MP who thinks it reasonable that parliament shuts for three weeks for conference season. Why can we not have these conferences at the weekend? Or during the summer recess? Hell, why do we have to have them so regularly at all?

Is the nation screaming out for the politically minded to spend hundreds of pounds sleeping on the floor of an overcrowded Airbnb in a seaside town after a heavy night on warm wine and small food? I’ll wager that you cannot find me a person on the Clapham omnibus – or frankly any omnibus, whatever an omnibus even is – who thinks we should have a week off making laws so that the Lib Dems can do karaoke.

Her Maj

As well as time off for conference, it seems that the Tories will be scurrying home early every Wednesday as well. They appear to be on strike from voting on any opposition day motions as their governing partners, Northern Ireland’s Democratic Unionist Party, play fast and loose with their allegiances. (The DUP backed a Labour motion against raising tuition fees, which the government says is non-binding.)

I and other Labour MPs sat in parliament and watched ministerial cars speed off on 13 September as the whips told the great and good to go home. Her Majesty’s Most Loyal Opposition is a pretty important part of our democracy. If I were Her Maj I might be more than a little peeved that Mrs May cannot be arsed to turn up to fight for what she believes in, whatever that is. Presumably whatever Boris Johnson and his gang say it is this week.

Leave the kids alone

I spent the weekend at a local Labour Party fundraiser, at my surgery, and handing out certificates to hundreds of young people graduating from the National Citizen Service. I sat in front of a lively, wildly diverse group of young people and thought we should hand over managing geopolitics to them for a while. Even the naughty kid at the back (whom I had to scold) gave me more faith than what I see on the news.

Family life

At a debate about the abuse of MPs, the traditional Tory colonel Bob Stewart told the house that his son had been targeted and isolated by his schoolteacher because his father was a Conservative MP.

Now, I’ve had my run-in ins with the colonel in the past, but I was horrified by this – one of my sons is the same age as his. As a parent and an MP I dread the idea that my choices will cause my sons’ grief. I’ve got enough guilt about leaving them half the week without their being targeted and bullied. I once found my son and his mates watching videos about me on YouTube that had been made by men’s rights activists. The vicious content was unsettling enough, but the thought of his teacher joining in the hate is harrowing (and, I’m pleased to say, completely unthinkable at his school). Our families are conscripts to this life – some are conscientious objectors.

Troll detection

So, should we ban internet trolls who abuse MPs online from voting? This is the suggestion floated by the Electoral Commission. I can see the argument for trying to make people treat the electoral system with respect. I also think we have got to have a hard line and a punishment. I’m just not sure how we will decide what is abuse. People say sexist stuff to me all the time. Would a negative comment about my appearance count, or are we talking rape and death threats? (What a time to be alive, when I can give a traffic light system to my sexist online abuse.) To some, the idea of having your vote taken away would only provoke a shrug; but to me it seems too much.

Climb every mountain

I have nearly finished More in Common by my friend Brendan Cox. It is about his late wife, my friend Jo, and is brilliant, but I dip in and out because I want it to last. Reading it makes me feel so tired: maybe because I read it in bed, but also because Jo’s energy and adventures seem exhausting. I like mountains on a screen saver, but I wouldn’t climb one, especially not with a tropical disease or a baby in my belly.

I’m also exhausted because of the ridiculous late nights we seem to be adopting in parliament. Jo’s distaste for the silly hours is covered in the book. She couldn’t understand why we couldn’t start earlier than 11.30am and finish in time for people to see their kids. As I put down the story of her life (and, my god, what a life) I’ll gladly trek for her to the seemingly impassable peak of reforming the voting hours in parliament. 

This article first appeared in the 21 September 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The revenge of the left