Credit: Liana Finck @lianafinck on Instagram
It was inevitable, of course. Cis men would center themselves in the conversation about abortion. In The New York Times, just yesterday, it was reported in the head-notes that the paper of record had heard from “hundreds” of men “who wanted to share their stories.” They noted that “advocates from all sides of the issue have called for men to be part of the conversation.”
Yes, but what part? There’s a crucial difference between noting your responsibility for ill-considered or just unfortunately fated ejaculations, which result in an unwanted pregnancy (among other possibilities). It’s quite another to center yourself emotionally and solicit the support, care, and sympathy that should be reserved for people who can get, are now, or have been pregnant in this moment. This group, crucially, includes not only cis women but also girls, trans boys and men, and some non-binary as well as intersex people.
It’s true, in several senses, that this is not just a women’s issue. As noted above, many people other than cis women will be affected by the same draconian policing, surveillance, and lack of access to abortion. Moreover, there’s no “just” about it. It’s been a huge failure on the left—including by supposedly true progressives like Bernie Sanders—to minimize this issue in favor of issues perceived as labor crises. (To which the excellent Angela Garbes’s new book, Essential Labor, offers a vital and non-gender-essentialist corrective.)
But this is not the moment for cis men’s tales of woe about abortion, or news articles about their feelings. The attention to their perspectives here is an exercise in himpathy—by which I mean, the undue or disproportionate sympathy often extended to men (powerful and privileged men especially) over the female victims of misogyny. And while I’m not suggesting that the targets and victims of these misogynistic abortion bans are being victimized by these men in particular, the principle is similar: we are far too prone to prioritize cis men’s feelings over those of women (trans women very much included in who gets short shrift in general here, socially).
One of the men in the piece above is a particularly stark case in point. He, Theo Purington, a 37 year-old Florida salesman, appears to have tried to bully his pregnant girlfriend into having a baby she didn’t want when the two of them were in college. He even got his mother to try to talk her into it, promising that he’d find a job while finishing college and would then take on full custody. Notably, this is the sort of promise that men often break. The sociologist Jennifer Reich, interviewed for this story, points out that many men have a romantic picture of fatherhood, involving being a role model to, or playing catch in the yard with, their offspring. This is reflected in the fact that, unfortunately, the majority of men do not do equitable household and childcare labor after their first child with a cis woman is born. He will do about half as much work as her, on average—a figure that hasn’t budged in over two decades. The only time he will tend to approach labor parity with her in these respects is when he is unemployed, and she works full-time. Even then she will still do a bit more on average.
Is it any wonder that many cis women whose perspectives were not canvassed for this article* were unwilling to gamble on their male partners holding up their end of the bargain? And of course that is even before you take into account the severe physical, mental, emotional, financial, and other tolls exerted by the sheer fact of pregnancy and childbirth. (I speak as someone who had a pretty uncomplicated pregnancy and a genuinely egalitarian partner. I could hardly stand by the end of it. And recovery from my C-section was, while easier than many experience, no picnic either.)
Despite all this, when Purington failed to convince his girlfriend to bear his child, his words to her were devastating: “She said no, so I kissed her stomach and I said, ‘Daddy loves you and I’ll see you in heaven,’ and I left.” The next day his girlfriend had the abortion—and if he supported her through it, the story certainly makes no mention of this turnaround. Notably, Purington now runs not one but two pregnancy crisis centers, deeply problematic institutions which essentially exist to guilt, shame, and coerce people into staying pregnant despite their wishes.
Other men interviewed for the story expressed more understandable emotions—disappointment they didn’t get to be a father after all; grief they lost a planned pregnancy with their partner that turned out not to be viable; gratitude they didn’t have to be a parent before they were ready. These sentiments are fine. I don’t need to hear them at the moment; I suspect that, from the angry reactions on Twitter to the piece, many others feel similarly. (I’m not faulting the reporter, by the way, so much as her editors and others higher up the food chain. In such cases, we should be circumspect about condemning people for doing work they may have been under a professional obligation to complete in much the manner recommended by the powers-that-be in the hierarchy.)
So how should cis men be involved, and involve themselves, in the abortion conversation we’re currently having? Here are a few useful and non-exhaustive possibilities:
1. March for those who may need abortions;
2. Donate money for those who may need abortions;
3. Speak up for those who may need abortions.
4. Listen to those who may need abortions.
5. Advocate for you and other cis men to take existing parental responsibilities (e.g., paying child support) seriously, and to have these obligations legally mandated.
6. Note, as a secondary matter, in an appropriate time, place, and manner, and with the appropriate knowledge and consent of the relevant parties*, when you’ve been a side beneficiary of someone you impregnated getting an abortion—that was, when all is said and done, entirely their choice to have or not have as the pregnant person.
In other words, proceed from a place of humility and obligation, not a sense of male entitlement. Don’t say anything that centers yourself and that wouldn’t, in the world as we currently know it, count as a reason for or against the kind of bans on abortions we are now seeing being implemented across the country. Since I can’t imagine saying anything as a cis man that could count against their partner’s right to choose whether or not to end a pregnancy (Theo Purington’s opinions and preferences notwithstanding), this means that what such men should currently say is, in my view, very limited.
But feel free to add other ideas about how cis men might productively participate in the comments. I can only hope The New York Times’s exercise in himpathy will inspire others to do better and be more thoughtful and responsible.
* I also hope that potential privacy violations of these women were addressed and handled respectfully.
But What About the Men?
WTF, NYT?!? I hadn't seen this article till now. I'm outraged, especially by Purington's monstrously callous words, ostensibly addressed to "his" embryo/fetus," but serving no purpose other than to chastise and shame "his" girlfriend. 😡 Thank you for saying just what needed to be said in response.
my goodness!