Opinion

We Should Frame Reproductive Rights as a Men’s Issue

MAJORITY RULES

When you’re fighting for your rights, it’s best to have more allies, not fewer. That means listening to men’s legitimate concerns and bringing them into the fold.

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Photo Illustration by Elizabeth Brockway/The Daily Beast/Reuters/Public Domain

In 1972, Ruth Bader Ginsberg won a victory in Moritz v. Commissioner of Internal Revenue, in which the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Tenth Circuit decided that discrimination on the basis of sex constitutes a violation of the Equal Protection Clause of the Constitution.

It would have been a great victory for women, except for one tiny issue: RBG’s client was a man: Charles Moritz, who had been denied a tax deduction for caregivers because of his gender. RBG knew one fundamental truth—looping in men is just good politics.

It’s a lesson we must remember today. Every pregnancy is the result of two people, one of whom cannot get pregnant. While we absolutely need people of all genders in the discussion of reproductive rights—cisgendered people are not the only ones who experience pregnancies—I’d like to address cisgendered men. Are we leaving these men left out of the conversation?

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Yes and no.

On the one hand, Roe v. Wade was overturned by men (and one woman). Men who oppose access to reproductive rights already make their opinions known—more than their pro-choice counterparts. That’s not to say there are no vocal pro-choice men, but the gender intensity gap is real.

The same percentage of men as women support reproductive rights, but 63 percent of women said abortion was a “very important issue,” versus 49 percent of men, and 40 percent of women report having given “a lot” of thought to the issue, versus 30 percent of men.

This makes some sense. Pro-life men have a similar perspective to pro-life women: when you’re legislating someone else’s body, your own gender matters little. Pro-choice men, on the other hand, have a different perspective from pro-choice women. Women may want reproductive freedoms for themselves; men will never get an abortion. I understand the reticence of the pro-choice man. It likely originates in the same place as the beliefs themselves—he doesn’t think it’s his place to tell a woman what to do with her body.

I applaud any man who thinks before expressing an opinion. It’s a rare and undervalued habit. At the same time, while a cisgendered man is correct that reproductive rights impact women more than him, he is wrong if he thinks he’s unaffected.

I’ve been on birth control for 15 years. My impetus is largely to protect myself, but I want to protect my partners, too—all of whom have their own lives, ambitions, and the same right as I do to decide if and when to procreate.

Among men under 20 who were involved in a pregnancy, those whose partners had abortions were almost four times as likely to finish college. The average child support recipient received $3,400 in 2019, and men account for 85 percent of the payers.

There’s also the fertility gap; women are fertile for several days each month; men are fertile 24/7. Billy Joel is about to have his third daughter at 65; women’s fertility dips sharply at 35 (as any childfree woman over 27 hears six times per day). Quite simply, men have many more chances to benefit from abortion access.

I’m not arguing that reproductive freedoms affect men more than women, but there’s no need to restrict the debate only to those most affected—not with an issue of this magnitude. Ultimately, reproductive rights are about democracy. They’re about the fact that while 61 percent of Americans believe abortion should be legal, six unelected individuals got to overturn Roe v. Wade.

This is relevant to all of us. It’s our bodies this time, but who’s to say yours won’t be next?

I want men to be allies to women, but I want more for them, too.

An ally is someone who advocates for groups of which they are not a part. In the case of those affected by reproductive freedoms, I would include men in the group. Furthermore, leaning too far into allyship feels congratulatory, rather than motivating. In this Atlantic story, a man describes receiving constant gratitude for attending a NARAL event. I don’t want to give men thanks for supporting reproductive rights. I want to give them something better—the benefits of living in a world where our bodies are our own.

We must also hear the ways in which abortion has affected men negatively.

Fathers in the U.S. have no legal rights to hinder an abortion. I wouldn’t change this, but we should acknowledge the toll it takes on men—many of whom report negative mental health consequences following the procedure, regardless of whether or not it’s what they would have chosen themselves. Despite what Bill O’Reilly has said, no one has ever gotten an abortion for fun—and we can do more to support post-abortive men. Some examples: increased access to mental health services. Affordable and available birth control, to ensure that more pregnancies are intentional. Lowering barriers for single men interested in adoption, to move towards a world where all of us get to choose whether or not to become parents. An acknowledgement of the suffering of these men. It’s not his body, but it’s still his life.

So, what is my call to action? While I understand that slogans like “He Who Hath Not a Uterus Should Shut the Fucketh Up'' directed at men who try to curb reproductive rights, perhaps women should rethink the messaging in cases like these. I believe inviting men to speak more about how reproductive rights have affected their lives will reinforce their commitment—and men need to accept this invitation.

There are tangible benefits to closing the gender intensity gap.

In August 2022, Kansas residents voted by a whopping 59 percent to 41 percent against a measure to overturn abortion access. This closed primary election drew at least 100,000 voters who were there only for the abortion referendum. Registration data suggests that women drove the unprecedented turn-out.

We can’t take chances with future ballots. We need men to care as much as women every single time. We need men to wait in line for hours to vote only for reproductive rights (which, to their credit, thousands in Kansas did). We need them to believe it’s important to them. Because it is.

In the fight for reproductive freedoms, we must bring men into the conversation. As RBG knew in 1972, if you want to get anything done, tell men it’s good for them.

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