Like everyone else, we at the Perpetual Post mused about the infamous ‘Tim Tebow Super Bowl Ad’ before it aired. It’s since been revealed to be pretty anticlimactic, but our musings were interesting anyway. Read Jeff Morrow’s side here.
MOLLY SCHOEMANN: The already-infamous ‘Tim Tebow Anti-Abortion’ Superbowl ad hasn’t even aired yet, but it’s already stirred up plenty of controversy.
The ad purportedly involves Tebow’s mother telling the story of how she became ill while she was pregnant with him and was urged by doctors to have an abortion for her own safety. As the legend goes, she chose not to listen to their recommendations, and gave birth to a baby who grew up to be named Florida’s Mr. Football, which is every mother’s dream.
The subtext of this ad demonstrates a relatively new approach for the anti-abortion set, and I have to say I’m impressed. Their normal tactics are usually about as subtle as a slap in the uterus. But the premise of this Mother Tebow ad appears to dig a little deeper, at least on the surface. Its view is a bit more nuanced; more thoughtful. It shows the consequences of an enormous and difficult life decision, and demonstrates one situation in which a woman’s choice to go through with a pregnancy results in a positive outcome. At least, if your definition of a positive outcome involves the existence of Tim Tebow. I’m on the fence there.
It should be noted that Tim Tebow’s mother ostensibly wanted to give birth so badly that she was willing to risk her life to carry her pregnancy to term. This places her apart from a majority of women who seek to terminate their pregnancies because they did not plan them and either can’t afford or do not want to have a child. It should also be noted that Mrs. Tebow already had four children when she was pregnant with Tim. It is unlikely that the ad focuses on the fact that she would have left four children motherless if she had died as a result of her commitment to bringing Tim Tebow into the world and thus into the Florida Gators.
No, the brilliant part of this ad is not what it glosses over, but that it targets with laser precision a dread that I have come to believe lurks in the reptilian brain of every anti-abortionist, and even some who are pro-choice: the irrational fear that if their mothers had had the option to choose not to give birth to them, they wouldn’t be alive today. Scary, right? Makes you think? Not really.
I personally am a very analytical person. I tend to over-think everything, from what I should do with my career to what I should have for lunch. But I do not now, nor have I ever, nor WILL I ever wonder what the world would have been like if my mother had aborted me. Because really, what’s the point? Obviously I was born. That’s that. Why pursue such vague and disturbing and ultimately useless what-ifs? Either you’re born, or you’re not, and if one happened, there’s no way to know what it would have been like if the other had happened instead, so why waste your time thinking about it?
Yet many do. The fact that their mothers held incredible power over their lives and could have made a choice not to bring them into this world haunts them. It keeps them up at night. They may not even realize it, but by picketing planned parenthood clinics and harassing young pregnant women and creating pro-life propaganda, they aren’t only fighting to save unborn babies they know nothing about; they’re fighting, in some strange way, to save themselves, and to take away the choice that every mother should have to carry a child to term or not, so that they can rest assured that their lives never hung in the balance, the way Tim Tebow’s could have (but ultimately didn’t).
The flip side of the coin of course is that for every Mrs. Tebow there was also a Mrs. Dahmer. It’s hard to argue that the world is a better place because Tim Tebow is in it, without also reflecting that the world would have also been a better place if Pol Pot’s mother had had second thoughts during her first trimester. This pointless line of thinking; this attribution of some greater design to past incidents which relied heavily on chance and circumstance, leads to murkiness, not clarity.
I’ll be curious to see reactions to this ad once it finally airs. Although I find every argument against allowing women the freedom to choose to be unconvincing, I’ve got to give this ad credit for tapping into an inexplicable and profound dread of the anti-abortionist movement. Tim Tebow, not only did you grace the September 2008 cover of Men’s Fitness magazine, but you’re also about to become the poster child of our deepest fears. Do your mama proud!
To post in its entirety on my blog a debate I got involved in over Facebook regarding a woman’s right to choose?
Maybe! But here it is. Comments are certainly welcome. I think this is an interesting issue and I got a lot out of engaging in this debate.
I’d like to address the abortion issue.
I find the idea that a woman’s right to choose is a ‘silly euphemism’, very disturbing. No human right should ever be taken so lightly.
I personally don’t know if I could ever have an abortion, because I realize that it must be extremely psychologically painful and upsetting, and it is not a choice I would like to have to live with for the rest of my life. BUT I would like it to be a choice that is there for me to make. I would like to be trusted as an individual to make that kind of choice for myself.
There are enough unwanted children in this world– is a woman who would have aborted her baby if given the chance going to morph into a good parent because she is forced to keep it? Enough wanted children are abused and neglected as it is.
I strongly believe that abortion should be an option– but that does not make me ‘pro-abortion’. It makes me pro-choice. I don’t like abortion– I like options. And I disagree with the idea that if abortion is illegal, woman will just work harder not to get pregnant. Trust me, we work DAMN hard at it. If abortions are made illegal, desperate pregnant women– whose unwanted pregnancies trap them in abusive marriages, or keep them in poverty– will be forced to resort to more dangerous alternatives.
Why should you, as a male, have full jurisdiction over your own body under any circumstances, but if I become pregnant (by accident, or rape) my body becomes a gestation chamber– and my own life, as an adult, must suddenly capitulate and be ruled by some fertilized cells that have existed for a matter of weeks? How can you rank those cells above me, and what I want? They are in MY body, and being nourished by my body. This is not your decision to make.
I think that I should have the right to judge what is best for me under any circumstances.
This is a certainly a difficult topic, but a couple quick, hopefully non-vitriolic points:
1) “Why should you, as a male, have full jurisdiction over your own body under any circumstances, but if I become pregnant (by accident, or rape) my body becomes a gestation chamber– and my own life, as an adult, must suddenly capitulate and be ruled by some fertilized cells that have existed for a matter of weeks.”
It may sound crass to you, but the life of human beings are characterized by physical necessity. A man no less than a woman must endure the hardships of having a body and all that entails. That women have the particular potency of childbirth is both a blessing and a hardship. That’s the way it is. Nothing we do can change that, and I think it is dangerous, metaphysically speaking, to think of this as injustice.
For you are yourself, “cells.” But you are of course, much more than that, and that is the whole point. You ask how these subordinate cells could be “ranked” above your own. But the whole argument hinges on whether we are willing to “rank” human life itself. And I say emphatically that I am not.
2) As far as choice, it is a choice. It is a choice between something natural and beautiful (that, yes, due to human proclivities can become horrible and miserable, as your examples of desperate women elucidate) and something heinous that should be unacceptable to a civilized society that respects human rights. Never is the latter more desirable than the former.
For me, the very categories of “pro-life” and “pro-choice” are detestable. For us to congratulate Sarah Palin, for example, for her “choice” to have her child, is unfortunate. For that means that we (“pro-lifers”) have adopted the language of choice that presumes that either option is equally good and valid. And that is, quite simply, a euphamization of reality.
I agree with you that the terms “pro-life” and “pro-choice” are reductionist misnomers. However, in my view, this is because people who cast themselves as my opponants because they are “pro-life” implies that I am not in favor of life, and that I am in fact “pro-death”—which is not true. I consider myself to be pro-life as well, except the life in question that I want to protect is the life that must consider whether or not to bring another life into the world—that is, the life of the woman.
It’s true that I am also cells. You may be outraged at the idea of ranking human life—and I understand this. But when it comes to the rights of a woman versus the rights of one of her fertilized eggs, as someone who recognizes the consequences of giving birth to an unwanted child, I will sooner uphold the rights of the woman.
I agree with you that having a child is ‘natural and beautiful’—but that ‘due to human proclivities it can become horrible’. Ideally, every child that is conceived is going to be wanted and cared for by those who have conceived it. However, you and I both know that we do not live in an ideal world. Further, I don’t believe that by deciding our laws based on those elevated standards, we will make people live up to them. If that is your view I understand that it is well-intentioned, even though I think it is unrealistic.
I also feel that there are too many children in the world who have been born into households of violence and misery—and that it is THEY who will benefit most from the passionate defense and aid of dedicated people like us. Working with children whose mothers fled to escape domestic violence, which I have done for years, is to me a better way to protect and promote the sanctity of life. These children did not choose to grow up in dangerous and scary environments, but they did, and they will benefit FAR more from my protection and care than an early, unwanted pregnancy will.
All very fair.
I do find the notion of “life” in this context strange. When pressed, the early feminists (the biggest proponents of abortion) put up the life of a fetus–theoretical– up against the “life” of the woman. They basically suggest that when a woman has a child, she “dies”; she “loses her life” and now must care for another, constantly encumbered.
I find this telling. Rather than see the raising of children as fulfilling, these women saw it as a biological tyranny.
Anyway, I was the seventh of nine children, and it would certainly be accurate to describe the life I was born into as one of “violence and misery.” But I am certainly better for it. (First, for existing in the first place; and second, for learning early about life’s difficulties.)
I think that the early feminists had a point, considering the times they lived in. Before the beginning of the feminist movement, women were not expected to make anything of themselves, besides mothers. Once they had children, their chances of doing anything else with their lives, except parenting, were probably small. And even today, I agree with the spirit of their argument — it’s not that your life ends, if you have a child. But your life as you have always lived it changes irrevocably. Men still have the option (although it is deplorable) of disappearing and shirking fatherhood. It is not as easy for a woman to abandon her baby (although statistically, it is certainly not unheard of). Really, though, every person has the right to their view of abortion. Each individual’s circumstances and perspectives are different.
I would be curious to know whether your parents, having had nine children, were also against abortion? My parents were always pro-choice. It is interesting to see how whether a person tends to hold the same opinions on these kinds of topics as their parents do. They don’t always, of course. But I think it is a factor.
Certainly, having been born, you are the better for it! I don’t think there’s a person on the planet that truly believes it would have been better if they’d been aborted. But frankly, there’s no way to know, either way. That is the problem with an irreversible decision— there is never absolute confirmation that you made the right choice. There’s no “It’s a Wonderful Life” montage to show you both scenarios. This reality, and the ‘what-ifs’ it conjures, could haunt you forever.
Thus, the choice to abort must be an extremely difficult one, and any woman considering it likely asks herself a number of agonizing questions. (If she doesn’t, what kind of parent does she promise to be?) What if I am aborting the next Mozart? She might worry. What if the fertilized egg I’m harboring could become a scientist who cures cancer? Worst, what if my parents had decided to abort ME? This last is a question that I think is particularly troubling to those who are strongly opposed to abortion. The idea that you could have been aborted is a terrifying one for anyone. It can scare you to the core. If abortion is illegal, then you don’t have to bother hypothesizing about it anymore. It is an easy way to stamp out a frightening concept.
When I was around 25, I found myself in a stable, loving relationship with a boy I trusted. I had an apartment and a job that paid the bills. It slowly dawned on me that were I to become pregnant, I could conceivably (ha ha) have the baby and—just barely—afford to raise it. After all, other women my age were having families. My boyfriend would have to drop out of school, and I would probably have a very hard time focusing on the writing career I wanted, but it would be doable. I could no longer justify the idea of abortion as an option for myself by for reasons like, “I’m too young, I am broke, I don’t want to be tied to the guy”. Granted, I still thought those things to a certain extent, but they were less convincing arguments to me at that point. It was almost enough to make me stop having sex, because although I still didn’t want the responsibility of a child, I knew I could probably handle it. Would that mean that, given an unexpected pregnancy, I HAD to?
Ultimately I realized that whatever happened to me, it would be my responsibility to rely on my own judgment, weigh my options and circumstances, and make an informed decision—just like I did in every other area of my life. The idea that my government would not trust me with this decision-making ability, in this crucial area, is absolutely terrifying. Having a baby is an enormously important, personal, and life-changing event. No sort of prohibitive legislation, no matter how comprehensive, could ever do justice to the complexities of the issue. Banning the option of abortion implies that women are unable to govern their own bodies and lives in one of the most important ways they have. If we aren’t granted that right, then it reduces the other rights we have to meaningless euphemisms.