Condoms Prevent More than Pregnancy.

They also prevent the dissemination of accurate information about sexually transmitted diseases; and the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists is willing to cooperate.

This is old news, by media standards, but then by mainstream media standards it wasn't news at all, which is why it didn't come to public attention at the time. Essentially, what happened was that the congress attempted to pass a cancer treatment bill that included the requirement to educate the public about HPV, which is responsible for 90-95% of cervical cancers. The condom lobby effectively killed it; they do not want word getting out that condoms do not prevent the most prevalent sexually transmitted disease.

The 2000 federal bill is not the only instance of the suppression of information where condoms are concerned, nor the most recent. In 2001, a state bill in California attempted to do the same thing. The AIDS lobby, too, fought the idea of truth in labeling. Evidently they fear that if people know the truth about condoms, that they are not nearly as effective at preventing disease as the condom industry would have you believe, they will not use them. Never mind the idea of finding a more effective prevention (like, say, abstinence or monogamy?); the AIDS lobby would rather have people using a far less effective safeguard, with a false impression of security.

At what point do these lobbies admit that the public has a right to know?

The condom companies are not the only ones misrepresenting the truth about contraception, either. Although birth control pills are known to have a "combined effect" of inhibiting ovulation and preventing implantation, they do not present themselves to the public as abortifacient. Recently when I was in a doctor's office, I was reading a laminated poster (provided by a contraception company) outlining birth control options in chart form. Oral contraceptives, progesterone-only products, and the IUD were all listed as contraceptives. It takes a good deal of redefining to call a product "contraceptive" that does not prevent conception. "Contraception" means "against conception." If, with a birth control product, conception takes place, and the "products of conception" are eliminated, the action of the product simply cannot be contraceptive. Yet the drug companies are allowed to continue to list abortifacient products as contraceptive.

As in the case of the condom labeling, companies that market birth control pills are denying the public information in the name of "choice." But if a choice is not allowed to be an informed choice, is it any choice at all? And if you call the deceit "choice," does it minimize the danger to the patient?

A woman who contracts HPV because she believed the condom manufacturer's claim that condoms protect users from disease is no less at risk for cancer because of the rhetoric of the AIDS lobby; and a woman who uses oral contraceptives while being lied to about their abortifacient quality has not been given a legitimate choice at all. Because the drug companies have more powerful lobbies than the "ordinary person" their interests sometimes come before the safety and right to informed consent of the patient or customer.

Evidently the finances of fornication supercede the right to truth in labeling.

Abortion and Misandry

For those who don't know the word, misandry means hatred of men, as misogyny means hatred of women. Some of us have long suspected that abortion and misandry are connected, even if we didn't know the word. Now, another abortion promoter has given yet further evidence of the truth of this suspicion. In a recent post to the blog Open Book, Amy Wellborn refers to an event at which popular Sci-Fi writer Ursula Le Guin stated before an audience of 400 that if she had not had an abortion, she "would have been an unwed mother with a 3-year-old in California, ... unmarriageable. Another useless woman."

One assumes she did not really intend to call single mothers "useless" but instead was pointing out what she perceives as society's stereotype of unmarried mothers. Yet quite aside from further stigmatizing those who already have a tough row to hoe, Le Guin reveals some rather unsettling stereotypes of her own. Men, she seems to be implying, are all honorless and lacking in protective or compassionate instincts.

It's not as big a leap as it first sounds, especially in the context of abortion. Abortion is, in itself, a misandristic act. In particular, the notion of complete freedom of woman to make the choice without her partner denies him any say in the destruction of a child they both created and for whom they are both responsible. It does so, further, without relieving him of any of the responsibility. While he has no choice to keep his child alive, should she choose to allow the baby to live, he is still held financially responsible -- whether or not he is granted the right even to know his child.

There's nothing new in that argument, though the truth of it bears repeating. What should really draw attention about Ms. Le Guin's comments is her assumption that no man would have a single mother. She does not even give men the opportunity to prove their worth; she damns them all without a hearing.

Why would she assume no man would have a single mother? Is it because all men inherently hate children? Is it because no man would willingly raise a child who does not share his blood?

Obviously, if you give any thought to the subject at all, you know that neither of these claims is true. I imagine most of us can think of at least half a dozen examples to the contrary, just off the top of our heads. My father, two brothers in law, and my father in law all raised children who were not biologically theirs. A woman I know was pregnant and engaged to the father of her baby, when her next door neighbor offered to marry her instead, knowing she was carrying someone else's child.

My husband is my favorite example. Not only is he willing to raise my three, and treat them as he would his own flesh, he has raised his own daughter as a single father for many years. He would never give her up without a fight. Nobody can tell me that men don't have sufficient parental instincts to be interested in raising a child. And it is completely unfair to imply such a thing in the first place.

If someone had implied anything remotely similar about the unwillingness of women to care, feminists would be in an uproar; yet a woman like Ursula Le Guin gets praise for her support of a woman's most uncaring act.

In case it is not clear enough, let me put in blunt language: while she is accusing men of being hardened toward children, she is promoting the right to kill them.

Rather than turning this into a case of men condemned of hard heartedness without a trial, perhaps she might have, instead, considered putting her child up for adoption. Then he or she could have been raised by someone like my parents or in-laws, who don't share her callousness. It is she who rejected her child, not the many good men of the world.

Labels of Life and Death

Today's mail brought the usual barrage of envelopes: a preapproved credit card offer for only $264 initially and $140 a year afterwards; bills for water, power, and phone; and a couple of ads. In addition, two envelopes full of pretty return address labels arrived: one from March of Dimes, and one from St. Jude Children's Hospital. I found it interesting to note that both sets of labels were very cute and "happy" looking, and both from charities that purport to help children. But as with the credit card offer, you really have to read the fine print. Sometimes what appears to be a firm foundation turns out to be a shaky facade.

There was no question of accepting the credit card offer. I always read the terms on the inserts, and most unsolicited offers turn out to be pretty shady. But what about the labels? Sure, they were free gifts, but of course each mailing asked for a donation. It reminds me of the ladies who give out free samples at the supermarket. Once you've gotten something for free, you feel like you owe it to them to buy or contribute.

Let's take a look at each organization.

St. Jude's was founded by Danny Thomas. For those who didn't know or don't remember, Danny Thomas was a devout Catholic who founded a charitable hospital for children with cancer. Included with the labels was a chart that showed how the survival rates for childhood cancers have improved since the founding of St. Jude's in 1962. They ranged from 4-30% in 1962, and now are at 56-90%. That means that where childhood cancer used to be a likely death sentence, most victims today have high hopes of survival. Although I'm sure St. Jude's can't take all the credit for this improvement, it certainly can take a good portion of it. Not only do they treat children regardless of ability to pay, but they have engaged in extensive research to help find better cures and treatments. Of the money they receive, 4% pays for administration and 10% for fundraising. Not bad. Their goal is to cure children, and that's what they do.

Now let's take a look at the March of Dimes. Their stated goals are to "fight prematurity and birth defects." 24.2% of their monies go toward management and fundraising, and like St. Judes they enjoy a pretty good public image. The rest goes toward their stated goal.

Here's the question we should be asking, though. What exactly does "fight prematurity and birth defects" mean? Ok, we have a pretty good idea of what it means to fight prematurity -- to help pregnancies go to full term. But that goal is lumped in with the more ambiguous goal of fighting birth defects. They don't state in their mailing how they do so, and unlike fighting prematurity this one isn't so obvious.

Now, the goal of fighting birth defects seems perfectly laudable, and it can be, if it means educating women to eat right and avoid cigarettes and alcohol. Women who take these precautions during and before pregnancy are much less likely to have babies with birth defects or other developmental problems.

If that were all the March of Dimes meant by "fighting birth defects" it would indeed be a good thing. Or if they were funding the research or practice of curing children with prenatal problems. Much development has been made by others in the fields of prenatal surgery and other prenatal treatments.

But what about genetic problems? You can't cure Downs Syndrome with good nutrition or prenatal surgery.

And March of Dimes, while it emphasizes health and nutrition in its public liturature, focuses its grants and research money on genetic testing and the promotion of abortion. Although they no longer require mothers to sign a pledge to abort should tests show abnormalities, they still focus on the prevention of birth defects not by preventing the defects but by preventing the births.

It's just a nicer packaging for eugenics.

It's sad that people who claim to help babies are actually working instead toward the destruction of those labeled defective; and it's sad that we have to read between the lines and try to interpret the true meaning of the statements that the March of Dimes puts in its literature. The credit card application I received in today's mail was more upfront.

I'm thinking we all should consider making a donation to St. Jude Children's hospital... because I'd like to think we all love children, even those who suffer from health problems.

Where Heaven Begins

I'm in the middle of reading Anne of the Island, the third book in the L. M. Montgomery series, and came across a meaningful passage, about the afterlife. It reminded me of C. S. Lewis, who said in The Great Divorce that if you go to heaven, in hindsight your time on earth will have been a beginning of your heaven, and if you go to hell, your time on earth a beginning of your hell. That makes sense, if you consider that heaven or hell is truly about grace, and living in the presence or absence of God.

In the book I'm reading now, a 19 year old girl is dying, who has lived a decent but frivolous life, and is now afraid of death because it will be a separation from all that is familiar. Anne has listened to her friend and is walking home thinking about their conversation:

"Anne walked home very slowly in the moonlight. The evening had changed something for her. Life held a different meaning, a deeper purpose. On the surface it would go on just the same; but the deeps had been stirred. It must not be with her as with the poor butterfly Ruby. When she came to the end of one life it must not be to face the next with the shrinking terror of something wholly different -- something for which accustomed thought and ideal and aspiration had unfitted her. The little things of life, sweet and excellent in their place, must not be the things lived for; the highest must be sought and followed; the life of heaven must be begun here on earth."

With a new year opening, it seems like a good time to ponder that thought. May your new year be grace-filled, a beginning of your heaven.