When an Essay Became Personal
After receiving feedback on an exam essay, my professor decided to continue one part of my argument privately. I had briefly addressed abortion in my paper. He congratulated me on my work — and then told me he disagreed with my position. What followed was not a classroom debate but a direct exchange between a young woman and a middle-aged academic man about who gets to decide over a woman’s body, and on what grounds.
This blog post is not about tone-policing or politeness. It is about substance. It is about why I support access to abortion, and why reproductive autonomy cannot be separated from gender equality.
“That Embryo Was Once You”: The Argument That Stops the Room
My professor’s position was clear and, in his view, morally grounded. For him, abortion is not primarily a matter of convenience or even autonomy; it is about the protection of human life at its earliest stage. His reasoning rests on continuity: every one of us once existed as a foetus. If we value our own existence, how can we dismiss that early stage of development as disposable?
He did not necessarily advocate a total legal ban. He recognised that criminalising abortion could push women towards unsafe procedures. Still, he believed society has normalised abortion too easily, and that it should be heavily restricted. In his view, decisions may be made too quickly, emotional distress may cloud long-term reflection, women may later regret their choice, and public debate often amplifies only one side of the issue. For him, the embryo is not an abstract cluster of cells, but a developing human being whose moral weight should not be minimised. In his view, the embryo is not “potential life”, it is developing life – and that distinction matters to him.
My Body Is Not a Philosophical Thought Experiment
This is where we diverged. I understand the emotional force of his argument, but I cannot accept its conclusion.
Pregnancy does not happen in theory. It happens in a woman’s body. It alters her health, education, career, finances and social standing. She alone carries the physical risk. She undergoes the medical procedures. She lives with the long-term consequences. When abortion is framed primarily around the developing life of the embryo, the existing life of the woman risks being reduced to a supporting role in her own story.
If abortion were prohibited or even made very difficult to access, what would happen to a woman who becomes pregnant against her will? Whether through coercion, failed contraception, unstable circumstances or violence, she would be compelled into motherhood regardless of readiness. Yes, an embryo represents potential life. But a woman is already a fully formed human being with rights, plans, responsibilities, and relationships. When the discussion centres only on the embryo, the person who must carry the pregnancy can quietly disappear from view.
Gender equality cannot exist without reproductive autonomy. Autonomy is not selfishness; it is the foundation of equality.
The Scenario Everyone Avoids: What About Unwanted Pregnancy?
One of my central arguments in our exchange was that forcing birth in unwanted circumstances can damage not only the mother’s life but also the child’s. Research suggests a child born into unwilling parenthood may face instability, resentment or inadequate resources (Hajdu & Hajdu, 2021). Of course, many unexpected pregnancies lead to loving families. But public policy cannot be built on ideal scenarios alone. It must account for risk, hardship, and social reality.
My professor responded that even in tragic circumstances — including sexual violence or severe foetal illness — abortion should not be treated lightly. He worries that quick decisions may lead to lifelong regret and emphasises reflection and restraint. I do not reject reflection. I reject the idea that reflection must be imposed through legal force. A woman should think carefully — yes. But she should not be compelled by law to continue a pregnancy against her will.
To argue that every pregnancy must continue regardless of context assumes that birth alone guarantees a meaningful or dignified life. That assumption deserves closer scrutiny.
It Takes Two: Where Is Male Responsibility?
What consistently frustrates me in abortion debates is how easily the moral burden is placed entirely on women. Pregnancy does not occur in isolation. It takes two people to create it. If we are going to have serious public discussions about abortion, we must also confront male responsibility.
Too often, men participate in abstract ethical debates about embryos while remaining socially insulated from the physical consequences of pregnancy. They do not undergo the medical risks. They do not experience the bodily transformation. They are not the ones whose careers are statistically more likely to be disrupted (Kahn et al., 2014). Yet when things become complicated, it is often only one body — the woman’s — that carries the weight of social judgement (Roudsari et al., 2023; Shamu et al., 2025).
If we insist on discussing the morality of abortion, then we must also insist on discussing men’s responsibility in contraception, in preventing unintended pregnancies, in co-parenting and financial support, and in creating conditions where women do not feel trapped by motherhood. Moral authority cannot exist without practical responsibility. Gender equality means shared responsibility before, during and after conception.
The IVF Hypocrisy Nobody Likes to Talk About
One of the strongest points I raised in the discussion concerns in vitro fertilisation (IVF), because it exposes an inconsistency in how society approaches embryonic life. In IVF procedures, multiple embryos are typically created in a laboratory by fertilising eggs with sperm outside the body. Doctors then select one or two embryos considered the most viable for implantation, while the remaining embryos may be frozen, discarded or fail to develop (Douglas & Savulescu, 2009).
If every embryo has the same moral status as a born human being, then IVF should raise the same alarm as abortion, yet it rarely does. Why is this? IVF is widely accepted and often celebrated because it helps people become parents. When embryos exist in the context of desired pregnancy, they symbolise hope. When they exist in the context of unwanted pregnancy, they are framed as victims. The biological reality is similar. The moral framing changes.
IVF also involves selection based on viability and, in some cases, genetic screening (Fernandes & de Carvalho, 2024). If every embryo is morally equal from conception, then ranking and choosing among them becomes difficult to justify. This does not mean IVF is wrong. It means that moral absolutism around embryos is rarely applied consistently. Society already acknowledges that context, intention and viability matter.
My professor recognised this tension and argued that IVF practices themselves may need ethical reform. But socially, IVF is celebrated while abortion is condemned. So the question remains: are we defending life in principle, or only when it fits a preferred narrative?
Is This Really About Life — or About Power?
At one point, my professor reflected that he had not thought deeply about abortion when he was young. Now, with children and life experience, he sees it differently. Life stages shape moral priorities. But there is also a gendered asymmetry that cannot be ignored.
Men can approach abortion primarily as a philosophical issue. Women encounter it as a material, bodily and economic reality. When laws restrict abortion, decision-making authority shifts from the woman to the state, to lawmakers, to institutions historically dominated by men (Cassidy & Trafimow, 2002). That shift is not neutral. That is a redistribution of power.
Reproductive autonomy sits at the centre of women’s empowerment because control over reproduction shapes education, career trajectories, financial independence, and bargaining power within relationships and workplaces (Behrman & Gonalons-Pons, 2020). Without reproductive choice, equality remains theoretical. Motherhood can be transformative and fulfilling. But empowerment requires that it is chosen, not assigned.
When abortion is restricted, the message is clear: a woman’s body, her agency and her future is no longer fully her own in the eyes of the law. Even if framed as moral protection, the structural effect is still a transfer of authority away from her. Once autonomy becomes negotiable, equality weakens. That is why the abortion debate cannot be separated from power.
Consistency or Selective Morality? Pick One
Abortion is not morally simple. I do not pretend it is. There are difficult cases and painful circumstances. But complexity is not a justification for prohibition. It is a reason for nuanced, case-by-case decision-making that ultimately rests with the woman who bears the consequences.
What concerns me most is when abstract moral arguments overshadow the autonomy of the person most affected. Ethical debate should not erase women’s agency. Moral seriousness demands consistency, not outrage in one context and silence in another.
On Responsibility and Decision-Making
Supporting abortion rights does not mean treating abortion lightly. It is not a casual medical appointment; it is a significant physical and emotional event. So is childbirth. I do not believe abortion should be celebrated, nor do I believe it should be stigmatised or banned. What I support is women’s capacity to make informed, responsible decisions about their own bodies.
There often seems to be an assumption, one my professor’s argument partly reflected, that women decide too quickly or too emotionally and therefore require structured reflection imposed by professionals. Mandatory waiting periods are presented as safeguards, yet they can function as institutional expressions of distrust and may increase stress or delayed access to care (Worrell, 2023). The idea that a woman must be protected from her own judgement indicates longstanding stereotypes about female irrationality. They imply that women must be slowed down, reconsidered or corrected before their decision is legitimate. Ethical complexity is not introduced by external authorities; it is already present in the woman’s own reasoning.
Encouraging access to information and voluntary counselling is reasonable. Structuring systems around distrust of women’s moral judgement is not. The final decision must belong to the woman because she bears the physical risk, the social consequences, and the long-term responsibility
Why I Stand Where I Stand
In the end, my professor and I did not convince one another. After several exchanges, we did what many people struggle to do: we agreed to disagree. He remains guided by the moral weight he assigns to embryonic life. I remain guided by the centrality of women’s autonomy. The conversation closed without resolution, but not without clarity.
I remain pro-choice, and it’s not because I dismiss life or because I celebrate abortion, but because autonomy, consistency, and equality matter more to me than abstract moral comfort. My position is rooted in prioritising the rights, health and future of living women. Abortion access is about recognising women as full moral agents capable of making serious decisions. It is about trusting women with their own bodies. It is about acknowledging that equality requires structural autonomy and shared responsibility.
So the question I leave to the public is this: if we truly believe women are equal moral and political actors, why does reproductive decision-making remain the one area where their judgement is still treated as suspect?
References
Behrman, J., & Gonalons-Pons, P. (2020). Women’s employment and fertility in a global perspective (1960–2015). Demographic Research, 43, 707–744. https://doi.org/10.4054/demres.2020.43.25
Cassidy, M. A., & Trafimow, D. (2002). The influence of patriarchal ideology on outcomes of legal decisions involving woman battering cases: An analysis of five historical eras. The Social Science Journal, 39(2), 235–245. https://doi.org/10.1016/S0362-3319(02)00165-9
Douglas, T., & Savulescu, J. (2009). Destroying unwanted embryos in research: Talking point on morality and human embryo research. EMBO Reports, 10(4), 307–312. https://doi.org/10.1038/embor.2009.54
Fernandes, S. L. E., & de Carvalho, F. A. G. (2024). Preimplantation genetic testing: A narrative review. Porto Biomedical Journal, 9(4), Article 262. https://doi.org/10.1097/j.pbj.0000000000000262
Hajdu, G., & Hajdu, T. (2021). The long-term impact of restricted access to abortion on children’s socioeconomic outcomes. PLOS ONE, 16(3), e0248638. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0248638
Kahn, J. R., García-Manglano, J., & Bianchi, S. M. (2014). The motherhood penalty at midlife: Long-term effects of children on women’s careers. Journal of Marriage and Family, 76(1), 56–72. https://doi.org/10.1111/jomf.12086
Roudsari, R. L., Sharifi, F., & Goudarzi, F. (2023). Barriers to the participation of men in reproductive health care: A systematic review and meta-synthesis. BMC Public Health, 23(1), Article 818. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12889-023-15692-x
Shamu, S., Shamu, P., & Machisa, M. T. (2025). Refusal of male partner responsibility and pregnancy support: Prevalence, associated factors and health outcomes in a cross-sectional study in Harare, Zimbabwe. BMC Public Health, 25(1), Article 1113. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12889-025-22310-5
Worrell, F. C. (2023). Denying abortions endangers women’s mental and physical health. American Journal of Public Health, 113(4), 382–383. https://doi.org/10.2105/AJPH.2023.307241
