In many respects, the “culture wars” primarily consist of struggles over language, in competitions between buzzwords. Consider the following commercial (and forgive me if you’ve already seen it on other blogs):
“Product of conception.” “Uterine contents.” “Clump of cells.” “Blob of tissue.” Simply calling the unborn baby a “fetus” is no longer sufficient because the word’s been unpacked: we all know now that “fetus” is a stage of development and not a different species. (Of course, this doesn’t stop certain pro-aborts for inserting words like “zygote”, “blastula” or “embryo” to achieve the same verbal illusion.) Euphemism, as The Bearded Sage of Patheos reminds us, is the first refuge of the person who refuses to look evil squarely in the eye.
In the same way, the defenders of abortion have shifted names to find new moral high ground to capture. At the time of Roe v. Wade, it was Privacy; eventually, it morphed into Reproductive Choice. Then it became Women’s Health, a buzzword of truly Orwellian provenance. Now, Kristi Burton Brown tells us, the new hill they want to be kings — er, rather, queens of has been dubbed Reproductive Justice.
Thank God for the Internet, for it allows us to tear apart pro-abort doublespeak as fast as they can coin it. In fact, I’m almost ashamed to write about it, as it’s such low-hanging fruit. Even better, “Reproductive Justice” affords us the opportunity to drill into a major inconsistency in the radical feminism which has long fueled the core of the pro-abort movement.
