Masked. “Ready!” Afraid. “Aim!” Condemned. “Fire!”
There was an awkward moment when we first saw her, stunned, deer-in-headlights, helpless. She passed by J███████ and I. She glanced up at us for a brief moment. And we were hooked. Her face was a dream of beauty. Her mouth was smiling but it was the light of her eyes that held our gaze. The rich mahogany of her irises almost filling the almond shaped whites. That smile, the smile of her eyes was more powerful.
J███████’s head followed mine as we turned to see where she went. Jim stood next to us pointing his camera as some building or tree across the little canal that ran along the ‘path to enlightenment,’ until he followed our gaze and saw her for himself.
She walked hand-in-hand with a taller man, in front of the three of us, and crossed a little road. They stopped beneath a sakura tree next to a small foot bridge that crossed over the canal leading deeper into the heart of Geon, Kyoto’s night district. She looked from side to side, hands together holding the handle of her handbag in from of her. The pink of the sakura blossoms matched her shirt and contrasted with the black of her skirt.
Her pony tail bobbed up and down as she nodded to whatever he was saying to her. He turned to the side to light a cigarette and brush something from his tacky plaid jacket. He turned back to her said one last thing and walked off brushing his spiked hair into on of the low hanging branches leaving a few petals in his hair until he swept them away.
Jim, J███████ and I continued to stare at her as she stood there, smiling, perfect beneath the sakura tree. The picture of beauty, the most beautiful woman we had ever seen.
“Oh my god.”
“She’s a prostitute,” Jim broke the spell with his, now obvious, statement.
We stood there in disbelief for a few minutes, watching her, the way she held herself, the way she turned her head from side to side. Committing every detail of her beauty to our memories: The exact shade of her pink blouse, the thin white sweater she wore to cover her arms from the slight chill in the late March air. The length of her black skirt, the style she wore her hair in, the height of her heels and the silver heart pendent around her neck.
After drinking her beauty in for some time from across the street we decided to cross to the little bridge, to get a closer look at her. We crossed the street, the so called ‘path to enlightenment’—a street lined with hotels that rent their rooms by the hour and shops filled with pictures of those who you can spent your rented hours with. We passed her, only a few inches from her, and she never looked at any of us. She turned her head to look down the street in front of us, then back to look where we had come from as we passed her.
We stopped ten feet away, under the next sakura tree. We stood for some time, maybe half an hour, maybe only ten minutes. We couldn’t take our eyes away from her for more then a few seconds. She never looked at us again, though she smiled and greeted every Japanese man who walked by.
“They won’t talk to Gaijin,” Jim explained, “stereotypes from after World War II. Dirty GI’s”
“I’d give her all my cash just for a picture and a kiss.”
“You live here Jim, we don’t speak Japanese. Talk to her.”
Jim shook his head, “you don’t understand, they won’t talk to us, not unless we are with some Japanese business man. They just don’t talk to Gaijin.”
When we finally decided to move on the three of us took one last, long look at her. The wind blew dawn the street shaking the loose blossoms from the sakura trees. My last view of the most beautiful girl was through that pink snow of sakura blossoms.
“I need a beer-u.”
“I need something stronger than beer,” J███████ corrected me, “I need Sake!”
“I can’t believe the most beautiful woman in the world is a hooker on the path to enlightenment in Kyoto.”
“Look at it this way,” Jim offered, “you passed the first test on the path to enlightenment: desire.”
“Only ’cause she won’t talk to Gaijin.”
Few topics in the modern world stir such emotions and debate as abortion. In America a single court case has become legendary, and part of the popular psyche: Roe vs. Wade, in which the Supreme Court ruled that it was unconstitutional to prevent a woman from seeking an abortion. In China the One-Child policy and the traditional desire of a son to carry on the family have lead to an epidemic in the abortion of female fetuses. Religious groups and feminist argue over the “Right to Life” and a “Women’s Rights.” The depth of conviction to Pro-Life and Pro-Choice has lead to violence, including the bombing of clinics that offer abortions and the murder of doctors who perform abortions.
Abortion is a moral dilemma that challenges our ethical beliefs. Many people’s ideas on abortion come from the beliefs of their religious teachers and are stepped in centuries of doctrine and interpretation by the leaders of their religion. These beliefs are too many and too complex to be critically assessed in this paper. Instead this paper will focus on ethical ideas grounded in non-religious writings. Specifically the ethical ideas found in the writings that are the foundations for the three major non-religious ethical systems of the Western world, Aristotelian, Kantian and Utilitarianism.
The Aristotelian system is based on Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics, written in the fourth century before Christ. Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, written in the 1780’s by Immanuel Kant is the basis for the Kantian system, and John Stuart Mill’s essay “Utilitarianism,” written in the 1860’s, is the “definitive statement” (1) of Utilitarianism. Although these three works do not compromise the whole of the ethical theories they advance they are the seminal works in their respected theories, and will serve as the basis of the following discussion. What insights can these works give us into the ethical question “is abortion moral?”
Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics
In his Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle laid out his theory on how to achieve an ethical life, but Aristotle’s ethics differ a great deal from the modern concept of ethics. Aristotle is concerned with how an individual can live an ethical life, not with how a society can make ethical choices. For Aristotle’s community oriented ideas one must look to his Politics where he says of abortion; “when couples have children in excess, let abortion be procured before sense and life have begun; what may or may not be lawfully done in these cases depends on the question of life and sensation.” (2) The qualifier, “before sense and life have begun,” strikes strait to one of the central questions of abortion; when does the fetus become alive, and more broadly, when does it gain a right to life? This is a question that will come up again and again in our examination of abortion.
Though Aristotle’s Ethics deal with the individual, he states that it is not for everyone, some people are excluded form ever achieving the good life by their circumstances. Aristotle lays out three conditions that must be met before a person can strive for the good life. The person must have good health, must not be ugly and must have at least moderate wealth. The fetus seams to fall outside of all these preconditions. Even so if we look at the potential of the child should it be born we can extrapolate some from these conditions.
Aristotle says that the ultimate goal of human life is the activity he calls eudaimonia, which is a complex term but for the sake of this argument can be thought of as being approximated by its stock translation, happiness. In order to achieve eudaimonia any child born must meet the three prerequisites that everyone else is subject to, health, wealth and beauty. What if we could detect whether or not a fetus would be unable to achieve one or more of these preconditions?
Modern technology gives us the ability to detect may diseases and defects which could prevent a child from living a healthy life, diseases like sickle cell anemia or down syndrome can be detected very early in a pregnancy. If a fetus is found to have a debilitating condition that will prevent it from living a healthy life should the fetus be aborted? What if the condition is not detected till late in the pregnancy is an abortion sill justifiable? Aristotle’s views expressed in Politics about “life and sense” seam to suggest that he would say no to the second case but what of the first case? How do we determine when a fetus has life and sense? This question rages in modern arguments both for and against abortion and usually relies on religious beliefs. Aristotle gives us no answer.
Many of the same questions arise if we examine the beauty precondition. With the use of sonic-grams a doctor can detect many deformities in the physical appearance of a child. Is an abortion acceptable if a defect is detected? Though the question of beauty seams outdated in today?s world of equal rights some people might still ask if it is not better to abort a fetus which suffers from sever physical deformities and try to re-conceive. However this argument belongs better to the Utilitarian view of life.
The question of wealth is hard to view with respect to the fetus, as the fetus will be dependent for some time on the wealth of its parents or guardians. Raising a child requires means, whether it is measured in money or in goods, wealth is needed to live, to provide the basics of life. Is it morally acceptable to bring a child into the world if the parents do not have the means to care for it financially? What if the parents could provide for the child but it would put strain on their meeting the prerequisites for Aristotle’s ethics?
Is it ethically justifiable to bring a child into the world when the child cannot hope to meet all of Aristotle’s preconditions? Is an abortion justifiable if the birth of the child will cause the parents to not meet one of the conditions? Whose happiness is more valuable, whose rights to a pursuit of eudaimonia is more important? Aristotle provides no answers to these questions in Ethics and his open-ended comment on abortion in Politics provides us with little guidance. Aristotle says that if a couple has “children in excess” then an abortion is an acceptable way of ending an unwanted pregnancy. One interpretation of this is that if a couple has children and another would put some sort of strain on their, and the other children’s, pursuit of eudaimonia, such as financial strain, then an abortion is justifiable. But only acceptable “before sense and life have begun,” though here again Aristotle offers no insight into how to determine when life and sense begin.
Aristotle’s Nicomachean ethics raises more questions than it settles about abortion but what of Kant’s ethic? The Kantian system is a duty-based ethic, focusing on the duty to the Categorical Imperative, which Kant clams, is an a priori principal and the fundamental principle. In his Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, Kant gives several formulation of the Categorical Imperative that he clams to be equivalent. Kant clams that the morality of all beliefs on how to act, which he calls maxims, can be determined by deciding if they are in accordance with the Categorical Imperative.
The most famous formulation of the Categorical Imperative is the first; “act only in accordance with that maxim through which you can at the same time will it become a universal law.” (3) Kant says this means that if you are faced with a decision you must first ask yourself what maxim you hold to determine your choice. Then you must say, what if my maxim was universal law, i.e. everyone in my situation acted as I would act. And finally ask yourself if you can will that your maxim become universal law without causing a contradiction. If you can do all these then the maxim passes the test, and is a morally sound maxim, if not then your duty to the Categorical Imperative forbids you from acting on that maxim.
In the case of abortion the test does not seam to solve anything, if your maxim states that in situation X you will have an abortion, And you see no problem with all women in situation X having an abortion, and you can will that all pregnant women in situation X should have an abortion, then your maxim passes the test and is morally sound. The problem results form willing the maxim to be universal, a person with pro-choice beliefs might not have any trouble saying, “yes, any woman in situation X should have an abortion.” While a person with pro-life beliefs could say, “no, abortion is always wrong.” There is also another, more subtle, problem here. Kant states that the morality of any act can be determined from the a priori Categorical Imperative. But in the case of abortion the Categorical Imperative gives no guidance on it’s own, the personal beliefs of the person effect their ability to will a maxim into universal law. The beliefs a person hold before asking if their maxim would cause a contradiction if universalized determine the answer to the question. So this formulation of the categorical imperative does not provide us any help in determining the morality of abortion, and in fact the question of abortion seams to contradict Kant’s belief that the Categorical Imperative is the only thing needed to determine the morality of any maxim.
Another formulation of the categorical imperative which is almost as well know is “so act that you use humanity, whether in your own person or in the person of any other, always at the same time as an end, never merely as a means.” (4) This formulation leads us to ask, if the mother is choosing to have the abortion because she “is not ready for a child,” whether financially or because she is not willing to change her life style, or any similar reason, is she violating the Categorical Imperative by using the fetus as a means to her own ends? Conversely suppose that she has decided that the first formulation of the Categorical Imperative demands she have the child and that she does not want the child, is she using herself merely as a means for the fetus’ ends? Here also we find the same problem that Aristotle identified in Politics, when does the fetus gain life and thereby become a member of “humanity”? It appears that Kantian ethics, as laid out in Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals does not provide us with any firmer grounds to judge the morality of abortion than did Aristotle’s ethics.
The last major ethical system in the western tradition is Utilitarianism, best know through John Stuart Mill’s essay of the same name. The basis for the Utilitarian outlook on ethics is the Greatest Happiness Principle, or the Principle of Utility. This principle states that “the ultimate end, with reference to and for the sake of which all other things are desirable, is an existence exempt as far as possible from pain, and as rich as possible in enjoyments, both in point of quantity and quality.” (5) Utilitarianism further states that an act is either right or wrong based on how well it promotes happiness and reduces pain for “all concerned.” Applying the Principle of Utility to abortion raises two central questions, should the fetus be included in our calculations of the pain and pleasure of “all concerned,” and if so how do we measure the pain and pleasure of all the participants.
The question of the status of the fetus returns us to the question of “life and sense.” raised by Aristotelian and Kantian ethics. Is the fetus a person whose interests must be taken into account when judging the morality of an abortion? If so when does “life and sense” begin and the fetus become a person whose pleasure and pain must be take into account in our determination of the morality of abortion? Here as in with Kant and Aristotle we find no answer to the question of when life begins, and so we are left to look elsewhere for answers to this question.
Assuming the fetus must be taken into account in our calculations of pleasure and pain brings us to the second question; how do we judge the pleasure and pain all the participants will endure? How do we determine the pleasure that the child will receive from life? How do we determine if its life will be one of happiness or of pain? This question is complicated more by modern technology. Today we can detect debilitating defects and illness in a fetus early in a pregnancy, however we also have the technology to treat many diseases and deformities, allowing a child born with a deformity or illness to live for many years whereas in the past the child would almost certainly have died young. Should we abort a fetus if we detect that it will suffer from a debilitating disease? Will this disability cause the child to lead an unhappy life? What of the parents, where do they fit into the equation? If the child is born with a disease or with a deformity it may place a great deal of stress on the ability of the parents to support the child, leading to the parents life being less pleasurable. Does the potential happiness of the child outweigh the potential pain of the parents if the fetus displays a disability, or if the parents would be under strain to provide for the child?
Mill is vague on how to decide between the quality and quantity of pleasures and how exactly this is to be taken into account in the pleasure and pain equation. How do we decide how much pleasure or pain a life will have before the life is lived? How do we determine whether this pleasure outweighs the pain and suffering that the mother might have to endure if she gives up something she wants to have the child, if she leaves school or a career? What about the mental suffering that a woman may incur if she chooses to have the abortion but latter regrets it? Mill, like Kant and Aristotle, offers us no concrete answers to the questions raised by abortion. He leaves it to us to determine how to apply the Principle of Utility to the many situations that might arise.
The three main Western ethical systems as laid out in their seminal works do not provide a suitable answer to the question “is abortion morally acceptable?” In fact in attempting to apply the ideas of these systems to abortion we have raised a great number of questions, without providing answers to any of them. Much of this is due to the way the normative ethics are written. As Aristotle said more then two thousands years ago, “any account of conduct must be stated in outline and not in precise detail.” (6) Kant, Mill and Aristotle did not write the answers to every moral question which faces us everyday, they could not possibly do this. What they have each attempted to do is provide us with a basic framework with which to determine what is ethically right. It is up to us to apply these frameworks to the particular situation in order to determine its morality. There are some situations that seam to defy the norms that these ethical systems put forth, and abortion is one of them. Abortion is a very complex subject, although the goal is always the same, the artificial end of pregnancy, the circumstances and reasons for seeking an abortion differ with every woman who seeks one.
Though we have asked many question in applying ethical systems to abortion and answered none, one question we have asked should be repeated outside of any particular system; when does the fetus become a person? Beginning with Aristotle’s clam, in Politics, that an abortion may be sought out “before life and sense have begun,” the status of the fetus has been a question raised in the examination of each ethical system. Neither Aristotle nor Kant nor Mill attempts to answer this question, leaving us to draw our beliefs on when life begins from other sources. An answer to this question would go a long way towards answering our moral dilemmas over abortion. If we know at what point a fetus is a person we would know whether the second formulation of Kant’s Categorical Imperative applied to the fetus. We would know if we had to take the fetuses’ pain and pleasure into account in our calculations for greatest happiness in Utilitarianism. Although a rule for determining when a fetus is a person would answer a great number of questions, there would still be many unanswered questions left for us to work through.
In the end, none of the three ethical systems provide us with any hard and fast answers to our questions over the morality of abortion, leaving each of us to decide for ourselves. But perhaps it is enough that they make us examine our beliefs and the effects of our decision. Too often in today’s world we do not think of the possible consequences of our actions. In asking tough questions about such dilemmas as abortion we are forced to examine our own ethics and question the beliefs that are the foundations of those ethics. If we are ever in the unfortunate position of having to decide whether or not to have an abortion Aristotle, Kant and Mill will not be there to tell us what to do, but they can help us to know what questions to ask ourselves.
- Mill, page 12.
- Aristotle, Politics, page.
- Kant, page 31.
- Kant, page 38.
- Mill, page 283.
- Aristotle, Ethics, page 93.
- Aristotle. The Nicomachean Ethics. Translated by J.A.K. Thomson. Penguin Books Ltd, London, United Kingdom 1955.
- Aristotle. The Politics. Translated by T.A. Sinclair. Penguin Books Ltd, London, United Kingdom 1981.
- Kant, Immanuel. Groundwork for the Metaphysics of Morals. Translated and edited by Mary Gregor. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, United Kingdom 1997.
- Mill, John Stuart and Jeremy Bentham. Utilitarianism and Other Essays. Edited by Alan Ryan. Penguin Books Ltd, London, United Kingdom 1987.
as I walk the scenery changes, first my eyes show me the lush green shades of a primeval forest, I smell the dampness in the air, the smell of crisp new life, I close my eyes to enjoy the peace, and feel the sting of hot sand burning the soles of my feet, I open my eyes and see only the endless expance of a sea of sand, the remains of once mighty mountains, the wind stings my face with the tiny grains, I start to walk, looking for shelter, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency, till I find myself running full speed to escape the stinging sands, the scorching sun, I shield my eyes with my arms, looking down I see the earth change again,the sea of sand becomes a sea of grass, stopping I look around and see rolling hills covered in grasses waving in the wind, streching as far as my eyes can see, behind me the same, no sand, only grass, I walk on, wondering how I got here, slowly the hills rise higher, become snow covered mountains, over the mountains, I walk on, past the mountains, through lands dotted with trees, past rivers, the sun rises, sets, rises again, over and over, never a sign of life, then in the distance streching across the horizon before me, a dark line appears, as I walk on through rocky badlands, the line grows, becoming clearer, a featureless black wall, taller than the tallest mountains, finally splashing through a swamp, I come the the base of the wall, massive blocks of obsidian stacked high enough to dwarf all the worlds mountains, longer then all the rivers, I walk along the wall trying to find some way through the impossable barrier, beneath the wall I know not the setting of the sun, only when it rises beside me and banishes the shadows from my path do I reckon time, days pass, unknown weeks as I walk along the base of the wall, feeling it’s smooth surface under my fingers, stumbling along in the dark of night, blinded by the sun in the day, then beneath my hands the wall vanishes, no, not the whole wall, only part of it, I use my hands to find the extent of this hole and for the first time I notice the cold, because a warm breeze is blowing from the void, the sharp edges of the obsidian cut my hands as I crawl into the wall, shivering, I curl up, I can smell the dampness, taste the air, it is stale, I rest for a time, the sun striking me as it rises, the night enveloping me again soon afterwards, my strength returns as I rest, then in the darkness a voice calls to me, beckoning for me to come deeper into the wall, I follow it, moving deeper into the wall, ever deeper into darkness, no longer does the sun shine from behind me, there is only darkness, and as I struggle on, the voice bocomes deafening, still I crawl on, dragging myself along till I reach the end of my strength, then a pin point of light appears far off before me, I force my hands and feet to continue on, the light becomes brighter till my sight is filled with a blinding white light that burns through my eyelids, I no longer feel the sharpness of the obsidian, I no longer smell the dampness of the stone, I no longer taste the dust in my mouth, I no longer hear my voice calling me…
nothingness, absolute nothingness, I cannot see, hear, taste, smell or feel my world, only the wall exists to me and I forever crawl through the passage of my mind, here at last I have found myself.
Years later, as the school bus drove past David’s old stop, I would wonder. Why, when I remembered David, did I not feel sad? Why did I remember David’s birthday party, at his house down that driveway, where David had a full head of wheat blond hair and a big smile on his face? Why did I not remember the bald David, string off into nothingness with those tired eyes? The weak eyes of someone who is fighting for their life, the chemotherapy steeling all their strength.
I don’t remember exactly when David died, I know it was in fifth grade. Mrs. Vinning’s class, where David sat in the back corner—when he came to school, which was less and less often. His leukemia was bad, had been since the year before. That year, fourth grade, we sent David to Disney World, or at least we helped. Our class designed some little pictures and had them printed on some little pads. I designed one of them, a simple scroll that said “David” and had some stars on it. We also had some pencils and erasers that said “David” on them. In the mornings before school we would stand at a table in the lobby and sell these things to the other students as they got off the bus. They would buy a few with the money their mother or father had given them for it, because the school had sent home a piece of paper explaining what we where doing and why we where doing it.
What we where doing was trying to raise enough money to send David and his family, his mother, father and younger sister, to Disney World—his dream. We did not even know how much it cost, but we where determined to send them. Each of us bought something every morning, even if we did not need it, even if we had bought one the day before.
In the end we did raise some money, I don’t know how much but we gave it to David’s parents so they could take him to Disney World. The Starlight Foundation payed for the rest, airplane tickets, tickets to Disney World, hotel, and even a limo to pick David up from school to go to the airport. That was a great day, the end of forth grade, and everyone in our class outside of school waving to the limo as it drove David and his family off to the airport.
I do remember the phone call. It must have been a holiday, maybe spring break, because it was sunny and nice outside and my mom called from work. She told me that David has “passed away.” This was not the first time that someone I had known had “passed away” but this was the first time it was not someone old, it was the first time it was someone I saw more than a few times a year and it was the first time one of my friends had “passed away.” This was someone my age, this was someone who was not supposed to die. Even though David had been sick for years and getting worse the idea that he would not get better had never occurred to me. This was the first time I really came face to face with mortality.
I cried, and my mom tried to comfort me over the phone. She also said that she thought it would be better if I did not go the to funeral, she would go but I should stay home. I tried to argue, I said I wanted to go, that David was my friend. But she convinced me that it would be better if I stayed home, if my last memories of David where happy ones not ones of his funeral. She said I did not really want to see David like that.
So I did not go to David’s funeral and the next week we went back to school. Nothing changed in our daily routine except that the counselor came in and talked to our class, and we got the chance to talk to him one-on-one. But something imperceptible did change, the desk in the back of the room took on a new significance. It embodied the struggle of life and death in a way that science class could not and looking back at it brought you face to face with mortality. From this desk, for a long time, the icy finger of reality could come up and tap you unexpectedly on the shoulder and make your eyes swell with tears.
But years later, as the bus drove past David’s driveway I did not think of any of this. I did not think of David, bald, tired, dieing. I thought of David, happy, smiling, laughing, full of life at his birthday party. And the bus drove by David’s stop everyday, and my life went on, and David is still my friend.