It is a privilege to consider with you today how the crucial realms of philosophy and theology intersect, particularly as we are called to defend the precious gift of human life in a culture that increasingly challenges its fundamental value. Our aim, in considering these matters, is quite simple: to equip ourselves with powerful and persuasive pro-life arguments and to refine our tactics and strategies for engaging people who do not necessarily share a biblical worldview on this vital topic.
Reflecting on my own journey, I’ve learned that navigating the complexities of the abortion issue, especially when finding oneself on the “hot seat,” requires a different approach than I might have taken in my younger days, before becoming more adept at handling these arguments. Often, when faced with a rapid-fire assault of points – the unborn aren’t persons, consciousness is required for a right to life, objections based on rape or mental health, and so forth – the most helpful initial step is simply to slow down the pace of the exchange. This allows us to move out of an immediate defensive or “attack mode”.
Consider a recent discussion I had with a stranger. The issue of abortion arose, and his core assertion was this: until you have self-awareness, there is no right to life. My goal in such an exchange is no longer primarily to force the other person to admit I am right; frankly, that rarely happens, and it requires significant mental courage and processing time to shift one’s deeply held position. Instead, I sought to adopt a strategy of asking questions and striving to understand his perspective rather than merely refuting it.
Deconstructing the “Personhood” Argument
My colleague was quite willing to grant a point often debated elsewhere: that the unborn are, scientifically speaking, human beings. He acknowledged that combining sperm and egg results in a new living thing. However, for him, being human was insufficient; species membership meant nothing. What mattered was personhood, which he grounded in having self-awareness and the ability to value one’s existence over time. If these capacities were not immediately exercisable, he argued, one might be a potential person, but not an actual one.
In earlier days, I might have immediately launched into counter-examples to dismantle this position. And it is true that whenever one attempts to divorce the concept of “human being” from “human person,” a “train wreck of counter examples” inevitably follows, demonstrating the untenability of the view. But on this occasion, I chose to draw him out with a series of questions.
First, addressing his claim that species membership doesn’t matter, I asked: “Tell me why species membership does not matter. Why should we just say that being a member of the species homo sapien is irrelevant to the question of human value?“. This wasn’t something he had evidently given deep thought to. Yet, we intuitively recognize that species membership does matter. Consider the stark difference in our reaction to a hit-and-run involving a squirrel versus one involving a newborn infant, even a severely disabled one whose cognitive ability is minimal. Why the difference? Because we recognize, at a fundamental level, the inherent value tied to being human. As Christopher Kaser aptly puts it, there’s a profound difference between eating a hamburger and eating a Harold burger, regardless of Harold’s cognitive state.
Our understanding of pathology also underscores the significance of species nature. A dog unable to read is not a tragedy; a 16-year-old girl unable to read is one. Why? Because she is failing to flourish according to her nature as a human being. It is inherent to human nature to potentially read, think abstractly, and process complex ideas in a way that is simply not part of a dog’s nature. Thus, species membership – or more precisely, nature – is intrinsically linked to our understanding of potential, flourishing, and value.
Following this, I posed a second question to challenge the concept of a human non-person directly: “Have you ever met a human that wasn’t a person? Have you ever met a human being that was not a person?“. This question, asked gently to seek clarity rather than effect a “gotcha,” pressed him to describe what such an entity would look like. Would it be someone with Alzheimer’s? Someone with severe cognitive disabilities? He struggled to articulate a clear picture.
My third primary question went to the heart of his assertion: “You say that we must be self-aware to have a right to life. What do you mean by self-awareness?”. This is a crucial question we must consistently ask, as people often make claims without defining their terms. I explored the possibilities: Did he mean actual self-awareness? That would strip us of personhood when we sleep. Did he mean the immediately exercisable capacity for self-awareness? This would mean we lose personhood under anesthesia. Did he mean a natural capacity for self-awareness, even if not immediately exercisable? This standard, while protecting those asleep, under anesthesia, or in a reversible coma, would also protect the standard fetus and embryo, which possess this same natural capacity. Pressing for definition helps uncover the implications and potential inconsistencies of their position.
These questions are not merely tools for winning arguments; they are means to help people think more deeply and clearly about their own foundational assumptions. As Christian ambassadors, our role is to help others think within the framework of truth, not simply to “beat” them with logic.
My fourth and final question gently asked him to consider the implications of his view. If self-awareness is the sole determinant of the right to life, we must understand that this standard is failed not only by fetuses and embryos but also by newborns and even toddlers. Research suggests a meaningful sense of self-awareness doesn’t develop until close to age three. Philosophers who defend this view explicitly state that if self-awareness is the decisive trait, it logically permits infanticide and the killing of toddlers. The critic must grapple with the fact that their argument proves too much, opening the door to far more than just abortion. Furthermore, this view endangers cognitively impaired individuals.
Beyond proving too much, grounding human value and the right to life in cognitive ability has a devastating impact on the concept of human equality. Our culture is preoccupied with various forms of equality. But what is the fundamental basis of human equality in the first place? If it is cognitive ability, then those with more cognitive ability would logically have a greater right to life and be fundamentally more valuable than those with less. This leads to a hierarchical view where academics might have greater fundamental rights than blue-collar workers, which clearly contradicts our intuitive and societal understanding of equality.
Moreover, relying on a trait like cognitive ability or self-awareness creates “episodic problems”. If having the immediately exercisable ability is what gives us value and a right to life, then we literally pop in and out of existence as persons whenever we temporarily lose that capacity – while sleeping deeply, under anesthesia, or in a coma. This is an untenable foundation for human dignity, equality, and the fundamental right to life.
Grounding Value in Nature
There is a better, more solid way to ground human value: not in the traits that come and go and that none of us share equally, but in the one thing we all share in common as human beings – a human nature. When rights are grounded in nature rather than the immediately exercisable traits that stem from that nature, we establish a firmer basis for human dignity, equality, and the right to life.
Consider the example of an amoeba and an early human embryo, borrowing an analogy from Stephanie Gay Connors. Neither is self-aware. An amoeba isn’t self-aware because it is simply not in its nature to be. A human embryo, however, is not yet self-aware because it needs time to grow and mature. It is in its nature, as a human being, to develop the capacity for self-awareness. By grounding human dignity and rights in this common human nature, we avoid the trap of declaring some humans more valuable than others based on the degree to which they possess certain traits. This approach bypasses the problem of “savage inequality”.
Working Across Worldview Divides
Having explored some of the philosophical arguments, let us turn to a common question that touches upon both theological conviction and practical strategy: Should Christians, particularly Protestants and Evangelicals, work with Catholics and others of different theological views on the issue of abortion?. While a colleague of mine was adamant against this, I hold a different view.
To be fair, there is a legitimate concern that we should not “paper over” the real and significant differences between Protestantism and Catholicism, which exist on fundamental issues like justification or the grounds of ultimate authority. These are not minor points. However, the question is not whether we should work together theologically to imply we believe the same things. Our point of unity, in this context, is co-belligerence – working together against a worldview that is destructive of human value.
When I work with Catholics, Jews, Muslims, or atheists on the issue of legally protecting human life, the purpose is not to pretend we share all worldview assumptions; we emphatically do not. But agreement across the board is not a prerequisite for being beneficial in the fight to save unborn lives. Consider the abolition of slavery in 1860. Would one refuse to work with Catholics, Spiritists, Jews, or even Darwinists who opposed slavery simply because they held different theological views? To insist that only those who share one’s precise theology can be allies in such a moral cause seems misguided. The point of agreement is the outcome – protecting life – not the theological foundation for that outcome. I have spoken at numerous ecumenical pro-life events and always emphasize that while we differ in faith traditions, we can agree morally that it is wrong to intentionally kill innocent human beings and that a just society should not sanction it.
Some argue that the only solution to abortion is the gospel of Jesus Christ and that until the gospel permeates the culture, abortion will never end. This claim, I would argue, is “Godlimiting”. While I fully agree that conversion through the gospel leads to sanctification and values more aligned with a biblical worldview, the Bible presents two ways God restrains evil and deals with injustice. One is indeed the proclamation of the gospel to change hearts. The other is through the practice of civil law, which restrains the heartless. The law’s primary function is not to convert people, although the Holy Spirit can use many things to draw people to himself. As Martin Luther King Jr. observed, the law cannot force love, but it can restrain harmful actions, and that matters profoundly. So, we have a dual strategy: sharing the gospel and promoting just civil law to protect the vulnerable.
It strikes me as inconsistent that some are troubled by working with people of different faiths on abortion but not on other matters. Nobody questions working with a Catholic business partner to sell insurance. Why, then, is it acceptable to cooperate in business but not in saving lives?
The analogy of the bucket brigade during a brush fire is powerful. If fires were approaching your home, and neighbors of diverse faiths and worldviews were forming a bucket brigade, would you stop to interview them about their theology before joining in? Of course not; the immediate goal is to put out the fire. Working with others who differ from you in such a scenario is promoting human flourishing, which is a biblical value. This is not theological compromise unless you are asked to abandon your own theological distinctives to participate. Ironically, while I’m sometimes accused of compromising by working with those who disagree with me, I have never once been asked by a Catholic to surrender any part of my Protestant theology to work on the abortion issue. Instead, I’ve experienced gratitude that Protestants are now engaged, after decades of relative silence.
Another example: if your toddler fell into a swimming pool and the paramedic arriving to save him was Catholic, would you quiz him about his beliefs before allowing him to act? The idea is absurd. If it’s right to work with a Catholic to save your child, it is also right to work with them to save someone else’s child – the unborn. These objections seem deeply foolish.
Conclusion
In conclusion, defending the pro-life position in the modern world requires engaging with both philosophical challenges to human value and theological questions about how we ought to work together in the public square. We must be equipped to articulate a robust defense for the inherent value of every human being, grounded not in fleeting capacities but in our shared human nature. We must also recognize the biblical mandate to restrain evil through both the proclamation of the gospel and the pursuit of just civil law. And crucially, we must understand that working alongside those who hold different theological views to achieve the common moral objective of protecting the most vulnerable is not theological compromise, but rather essential co-belligerence in the fight for human flourishing.
Our culture fundamentally disagrees on the question of human value and truth. This will not change unless we are equipped to make a difference. Let us step up, equip ourselves through study and practice, and fulfill our calling as Christ’s ambassadors on these vital issues, striving to save as many lives as we can.