“What if a 10-year-old is raped?”
The Hard Hard Case
Whether it’s right or wrong to purposefully kill children does not change based on parents’ circumstances.
This principle is fairly easy to demonstrate. For example, if it is wrong to purposefully kill toddlers, this applies to all toddlers—regardless of why parents might consider killing them. This is not to say that reasons parents might consider killing born children are of no significance. But it does mean these reasons are a wholly separate matter from the moral question of whether it is right or wrong to purposefully kill those children.
But while most would agree to this, sometimes there are circumstances which are so unbelievably difficult that many assert it must somehow shift the moral calculus. Consider this recent exchange from Ohio University during the Open Mic portion of Created Equal’s outreach.
After the Dobbs decision this summer overturned Roe v Wade, abortion advocates began a mad scramble for a poster child for their Handmaid’s Tale predictions. They needed a compelling story to prove their prophetic proclamations of the impending GOP dystopia. In short order, they coalesced around a particularly tragic one: the ten-year-old girl from Ohio who was raped but could not at the time get a legal abortion in the state.
Now, as mentioned above, circumstances do not shift the moral question of elective abortion. However, hammering this home can not only fail to convince the skeptic but also suggest a lack of concern for the mother. We care for both victims of the rape.* And we know our task is not merely to pound truth but to present it persuasively, so that people would come to conclude abortion really is wrong.
Here, then, is how I do that with this truly hard case.
To Move Forward, Press “Pause”
There is little value in two sides of any issue shouting at each other. But if we set aside for a moment the contentious issue to find some shared principle, it is possible to find a way forward.
This does not mean we overlook disagreement. Rather, we press “pause” on the controversy (e.g., abortion) to find something we hold in common. Once you find a shared belief, the debated issue can then be reconsidered in light of that principle.
When I hear a question, then, I try to think through the fundamental beliefs behind the question. Why did the person ask this question instead of another? What does it suggest about his or her deeply held convictions?
When someone asks, “What about that ten-year-old … ,” I of course know they believe she should have access to abortion. But there’s more to it than that. They’ve tipped their hand by choosing the ten-year-old girl rather than a forty-something. Why? I think it’s because they know that the younger you are, the more vulnerable you are. And the more vulnerable you are, the more shocking it is when someone commits violence against you.
After all, it is morally wrong to rape a woman of any age. But many reference the ten-year-old because we are all shaken to the core when we hear of a child being violated in this way. All sexual assault offends us. But there is something singularly disturbing about a child experiencing this.
The younger the victim, the more vulnerable she is. And the more vulnerable she is, the more shocked we are when she’s violated. Our moral outrage is thus often proportionate to the victim’s age. The younger, the more outraged we are. This is a powerful point of common ground.
You can summarize this by saying, “I think there’s a reason you mentioned a 10-year-old rather than a 45-year-old. All rape is wrong. But your question suggests that the younger the victim is, the more horrified we are. Is that right?”
Take the Common Ground Home
If they agree, next use this to shine new light on abortion. Show them that this principle they hold—remember, they asked the initial question, not you—should motivate compassion for the baby, too.
Say, “I agree with you. The younger the victim, the more shocking the crime. And so we have to ask: Who is even younger than the 10-year-old child?”
The answer is pretty clear. The 10-week-old fetus or 10-day-old embryo. The mom is young. The baby is even younger. And so if our compassion is proportionate to one’s age, we should have increased (not decreased) compassion for the preborn child.
This does not mean the baby matters more than the mother. We are not saying that the younger you are, the greater worth you have. That would be a new ageism we must also eschew. (Remember, all rape is wrong—not just rape committed on children.)
All we’re saying is that the question about the 10-year-old points to a shared principle that should animate concern not only for mother but also the baby.
Discarded Trump Card
Now, some will smell danger ahead before you get there. As soon as you explain that you both have increased compassion the younger a victim may be, the back-peddling begins. They’ll say, “No, that’s not my point at all” and move on to another justification for abortion. This means you’ve got to do the work all over again of finding common ground that will point toward the conclusion that abortion is wrong. But it’s not a failure.
For, when they set aside the story of a child being raped, you’ve blunted the force of their trump card and exposed it as a fraud. Any other story they point to will likely be less emotionally resonant than the case of the ten-year-old. And, more importantly, you’ll have exposed that their concern for the ten-year-old may be limited to her capacity to serve as a tool for their rhetoric.
After all, it seems that those who support killing children have no problem using them as political pawns.
* The mother is unquestionably the primary victim when she is pregnant after sexual assault. The child, however, will also suffer. If justice is served, her biological father will be jailed. She will grow up knowing what he did and how it affected her mother. There could be many challenges ahead. Thus, she is a secondary victim of the assault.