Recently, I published an article regarding the strategic pitfalls of equal protection legislation—specifically, those laws that seek to prosecute women for murder following an abortion. The response was immediate and, in some corners of the pro-life movement, incendiary. I was accused of shifting out of my lane, of lacking testicular fortitude, and of being a coward who is not brave enough to live out his convictions.
However, this rhetorical firestorm has largely avoided the central thesis of my argument: that in a culture that already believes the pro-life movement hates women and wants them to die, it is a catastrophic strategic error to lead with legislation that reinforces that exact narrative. We are currently living in a historical moment where even red states like Ohio and Kentucky are failing to pass basic protections for the unborn or are actively enshrining abortion into their state constitutions. If we cannot win the public over to the basic humanity of the unborn, why are we leading with a demand to imprison mothers?.
It is time to move beyond insults and have the conversation we should be having: a conversation about prudence, historical reality, and the trench war of social reform.
The Trap of the All-or-Nothing Strategy
The primary disagreement within our movement today often splits into two camps. One camp argues that it is fundamentally immoral and unbiblical to pass anything less than a full equal protection law. The second camp—the one I represent—views the pro-life mission as a duty to reduce the body count by any ethical and biblical means available.
When we address the strategic failures of equal protection, advocates often pivot back to a moral argument: Even if it’s not strategic, anything else is a compromise with evil. But strategy is a moral concern. If a specific legislative path ensures that pro-life efforts are defeated at the ballot box year after year, then that principled stance is actually resulting in more dead children.
We are not zigging and zagging because we enjoy the exercise; we are navigating obstacles to reach the finish line. An all-or-nothing approach in our current post-Christian climate will almost certainly result in nothing. We are not fighting World War II, where a single magic bullet or atomic bomb ends the conflict; we are in World War I, winning the culture street by street and trench by trench.
The Lily Hypothetical: A Movement-Ending Backlash
To understand the danger of equal protection laws, we must look at how they would actually play out in a court of law and on the television screens of the American public. Imagine a young woman—we’ll call her Lily.
Lily was raised in a Christian home, she has seen the abortion videos, and she knows the pro-life arguments. But at eighteen, she goes to a secular university, falls in love with a non-Christian man, and finds herself pregnant. In a moment of sheer panic, she takes the abortion pill. Under an equal protection regime, Lily is now facing a murder trial—and potentially the death penalty.
Imagine the cameras in that courtroom. Imagine the images of a devastated, weeping family broadcast to a culture that is already untutored in moral thinking. For weeks, the public would see a distraught teenager facing execution or life in prison.
What happens to the pro-life cause the day after that verdict? It becomes dead on arrival. Every pro-life politician in the country would be forced to defend that courtroom scene on the campaign trail. Legislation that might have actually protected children would have no chance of passing because we would have culturally shot ourselves in the foot.
This is exactly why outlets like CNN and the New York Times are so eager to ask pro-life leaders if they want to imprison women. They aren’t interested in the intricacies of our theology; they are interested in driving down the pro-life vote by quoting us on our most unpopular and strategically foolish positions.
Misreading Church History
Critics often point to the early church fathers, claiming they advocated for legal penalties for women who abort. But a careful reading of history suggests a far more complex reality.
When Tertullian argued that the Mosaic law’s retribution should apply to abortion, he was writing to Roman officials who accused Christians of secret crimes like infanticide. His point was defensive: How could we be guilty of killing born children when we condemn the killing of those in the womb?.
Furthermore, many of the most prominent fathers focused on ecclesiastical penalties, not legal ones. Justin Martyr and John Chrysostom called for church discipline, not state-mandated prison for women. Basil the Great actually argued for showing leniency toward women because they are often pressured by fear or misinformation.
Most importantly, we must recognize that the church fathers lived in a rapidly Christianizing empire. We live in a post-Christian era, characterized by a rush to desecrate the sacred and remove all limits on human autonomy. Using the political strategy of the third century for the American Republic in the twenty-first century is an epistemological and strategic error. Bad history makes for bad strategy, and bad strategy means more babies die.
The Lincoln Precedent: Prudence as Wisdom
The abolitionist movement provides a powerful case study for the value of incrementalism. Abraham Lincoln was frequently maligned by the all-or-nothing abolitionists of his day. One critic, Wendell Phillips, famously called Lincoln a first-rate second-rate man because of his cautious strategy.
Lincoln understood that if he moved too fast, he would lose the North and the Union entirely. He did not start his presidency demanding the total abolition of slavery; he moved to limit its expansion into federal territories. He was playing the long game, shifting the electoral map so that a future free from slavery would be possible.
Was this cowardice? No. It was prudence. Even Frederick Douglass, a man who had every reason to be impatient with Lincoln’s speed, noted at Lincoln’s funeral that without the President’s wisdom and prudence, abolition might never have happened. Lincoln knew how to walk the line between boldness and discretion.
The Conversation We Need
True courage is not defined by how loudly one can scream “Abolition!” into a cultural void. True courage—and true leadership—is finding a feasible, maintainable route to saving the maximum number of children.
We need to be bold and bright at the same time. We must acknowledge the difference in moral culpability between the woman who gleefully boasts about her abortion and the woman who cries “I never knew” when shown the truth of what abortion does to a child. Our laws and our strategies must reflect the messy, complex reality of our mission.
I welcome a debate based on data and research. If equal protection advocates can provide polling data showing that these proposals won’t lead to a total cultural backlash, or research suggesting they are actually feasible, I am happy to listen. But as it stands, making this about testicular fortitude rather than actual strategy is both a rhetorical and strategic mistake.
Stupid for Jesus is still stupid. King Josiah was a righteous man, but he was killed because he ignored the prudence of just war theory and entered a battle he should have avoided. We have a duty to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. It is time to prioritize the lives of the unborn over the catharsis of a pure but losing strategy. That is the conversation we should have.