Colby Cosh takes a property rights view of abortion in today’s National Post. Essentially it is an argument premised on the interesting idea that we, personally, own our bodies and therefore have the right to do with those bodies what we want.
It is an interesting idea because, after all, if we don’t own our bodies, who does? The state?
One of the difficulties of the hard libertarian position is that it divorces freedom from good action. It really is the furthest possible extension of moral relativism: because I want to do “x” is all the reason and justification I need offer for doing “x”.
I have a great deal of sympathy for this position with application to things like freedom of speech, the right to read what I will, the right to believe and think what I want. These are rights which impinge (except in very unusual instances) on anyone else’s rights.
Things get dicier when we get to the right to ingest non-lethal substances of various sorts. On intoxicants the argument can be made that while you have a right to use, you do not have the right to have your use impinge on other people’s rights. Drink all you want but please take a cab, shoot heroin if you can actually afford it without stealing my stereo. In these cases there are certainly arguments – which I agree with – that the current prohibitions make no sense at all and simply drive up the price term.
Over on the other side, what if I have that “disease” and want to end my own life before I am a burden to myself and to others. Here we come head to head with the hard question: do I owe my life to anyone? At the moment, I have real obligations, willingly assumed to my children and my partner. But kids grow up and, sadly, a partner may die before you do or your own deteriorating quality of life may make suicide an good option for everyone. I cannot imagine any obligation which would require a person to live on in agony or collapse into senility. That seems to be a personal rather than social choice.
Which brings us around to abortion. Colby’s position boils down to the idea that a fetus is rather similar to a kidney. We own our kidneys and, on Colby’s logic, we must own our fetuses as well.
Property is a bedrock upon which we can base a good deal of law and lots of transactional analysis. It gives rise to a sort of economic thinking which suggests that there are no questions which really matter other than price. “The price of everything and the value of nothing” is the Wildean response.
Property carries with it a glorious concept of entitlement. I own my library because I worked hard and was canny in its acquisition. You own your Porsche because you skate very well and can shoot a small, black rubber disk faster than a goalie can see.
So how did you come by that kidney?
You didn’t “find” it. And, unless you are a higher up in the Chinese gerontocracy, you didn’t steal it. You might have bought it but, frankly, I would love to see the legal case when the paid donor decided to break his contract. You might have been given it by a now dead person who no longer required it; but that is still relatively rare.
No, for most of us, our kidneys are the gift our our parents. At one point or another Mr. and Mrs. Cosh played hide the salami and, after a good deal of cell splitting, young Colby arrived on the planet with a couple of kidneys, a liver, heart, brain and the assorted other features we laughingly call human.
Property understands gifts and, critically, once given, they generally cannot be taken back. If Mrs. Cosh needs a kidney she can certainly ask Colby for one of his; but he has a perfect right to say “Sorry Mum, need them both.”
The strange part of the gift of Colby’s kidneys is that, like most gifts, some assembly is required. Happily, Mrs. Cosh had the plans and the materials to make sure Colby arrived in this world with his gifts intact.
(We will leave aside how exactly she came to have these and what impact Mr. Cosh’s role in the proceedings had. And we will go nowhere near that God thing.)
Most arguments about abortion divide into two questions – at what point, if any, is it permissible to deny young Colby the gifts he has been promised – and – does Colby in utero have, in principle, any right to the eventual use of the kidneys, brain and liver he is busy growing. The second question is interesting, the first really a matter of how comfortable one is with the slicing and dicing of a late term fetus.
Our current regime has decided that in utero Colby, if Mrs. Cosh decides otherwise, has no rights at all. As his mother’s property he can be disposed of as she sees fit. (I note that Dad, in Canadian law, has no rights whatsoever.) This has the great legal virtue of certainty. So, until Colby pops into the air, his kidneys and other appurtenances clearly belong to Mummy. (It is, I think, a medically open question as to whether she is allowed to abort Colby in order to give his kidneys to another of her children. But it is a question which will need to be answered soon.)
The way that Colby wants to frame the debate assumes that there is only the single stakeholder – Mum. But, rather obviously, there is a second party to the transaction, in utero Colby. (And a third in Mr. Cosh, and at the margin, a fourth being all of the rest of us for whom, with the exception of this harebrained article, Colby’s existence on the planet has been something of a gift.)
If, as Colby suggests, the gestation of a child is all about property a woman has in her body and the ownership thereof, then the fetus enjoys the status of a rather complex wart or cyst or carbuncle. I suppose there might even be a market for a really big cyst or a particularly fruity wart. And, when medical technology is sufficiently advanced, perhaps the “tissue” will command a decent price on E-bay. Especially if it’s fresh.
Pity to let such a gift be wasted when it might be sold.