Philosophy is the active pursuit of truth. It is not a haphazard collection of ideas. Nor is it the uncritical acceptance of someone else’s set of ideas. Philosophy presupposes two virtues that are rarely combined in the same person: a modesty, untainted by the ego, which is open to the unvarnished truth of things, and the courage to stand by truth no matter how unpopular it may be. A true philosopher does not croak under the weight of criticism.

Throughout history, opposition to abortion has been largely cultural. People generally accepted that abortion was the killing of a developing human being and therefore disgraceful. Philosophy was not needed to arrive at this commonsense conclusion. As culture maverick Jordan Peterson has stated the matter, simply and forthrightly, “Abortion is clearly wrong.” The moral atmosphere in today’s culture, however, has shifted dramatically. It is no longer united in its opposition to abortion. In fact, it rails against those who oppose abortion. A sound philosophy, therefore, is now needed more than ever to awaken people to exactly what abortion is and to its adverse effects on both the family and society.

Unfortunately, philosophy has become a joke. To quote Bill Maher, “philosophy is as useful as a bidet in a gorilla cage.” Cynics have referred to the philosopher as “a blind man in a dark cellar at midnight looking for a black cat that isn’t there.” This negative attitude toward philosophy even shows up in cartoons. Mell Lazarus, creator of Miss Peach, has one youngster speak of philosophy as “thinking about all the problems facing humanity and how troubled the world is.” “That must be a dumb philosophy of life,” snaps a classmate. “My philosophy of life is ‘Don’t Think.’” The noble pursuit of truth has been replaced, by and large, by relativism, in which choices about abortion and birth depend on one’s perspective and therefore are neither right nor wrong in themselves. Or if not relativism, then deconstructionism or nihilism, which erase all meaning. In short, philosophy is dismissed as medieval.

If the philosopher is searching for truth, he is also looking for hope. The expression “abortion without apology” implies “abortion without thinking.”

But man is essentially a thinking being, and the embarrassing realization that he is not thinking may inspire his return to thinking in a philosophical manner. If the typical defender of abortion is not thinking, he is, we might say, getting his ideas through osmosis. That could be a rather humiliating revelation.

Osmosis, as anyone who has taken a high school course in biology knows, is the tendency of a fluid, usually water, to pass through a semipermeable membrane into a solution where the solvent concentration is higher, thus equalizing the concentrations of materials on either side of the membrane. The term “osmosis” is a Latinized form of the Greek word osmos, meaning “a push.” It also refers to the gradual or unconscious assimilation of ideas.

Education in the truest sense is a conscious assimilation of ideas that conform to reality. It is a process by which objective data pass through the senses and are possessed by the knower. Education is not the same as osmosis, although what passes for education in many instances these days is often the passage of toxic cultural ideas through a weak defense system into a susceptible person, thus forming a mirror image of culture. In other words, the osmotic process in education is akin to extreme socialization or acculturation, in which both the mind and culture have an equal concentration of the same ideas.

When Dostoevsky submitted his manuscript of Crime and Punishment to the publisher, he included a note stating that his story was about a university student whose mind was infected by incomplete ideas that float on the wind. The great Russian novelist understood that education is not the same as infection. Raskolnikov, the main character of the book, did not understand his culture because he was possessed by it.

Dostoevsky’s use of the word “incomplete” is a marvelous example of restraint. The ideas of the protagonist were not, in the author’s mind, stupid, nonsensical, or foolish. They were “incomplete.” Although they did have something positive about them, they lacked something more that would give them a certain completeness. For example, one attraction of abortion for some people is that it is a “choice,” which is a valued capacity in the human being. But this idea of choice is woefully incomplete because it ignores that which is chosen, which, as in the case of Raskolnikov, was murder. Abortion is seen as an act of freedom. Yet, freedom of choice is morally incomplete if it is not linked to freedom of fulfillment. The very meaning of freedom of choice is to align that freedom to a higher freedom, freedom of fulfillment. Furthermore, the unborn is not part of the woman’s body. A more complete understanding indicates that it is located in her body but has a destiny of its own. Again, most abortions are sought for convenience, and the virtue of convenience is that it saves time. But that does not take into account the total loss of time for the unborn child. Finally, a woman does not have a “right” to abort, but only the possibility. But this possibility does not rise to the dignity of a right.

The rhetoric for the abortion advocate is incomplete, like half a loaf. But the abortion advocate’s willingness to remain incomplete indicates a preference for the half-loaf to the full one. If there could ever be a genuine dialogue on the issue of abortion, it would consist of prolifers encouraging abortion advocates to make their thinking complete. It is like saying, “Good, you are on second base, now come home”—surely a more effective approach than saying, “you are completely wrong!” Truth does not make compromises. Being half right is still being wrong. Nonetheless, it is a stepping stone. And, as Confucius has said, “It does not matter how slowly you go, as long as you do not stop.”

Saint Thomas Aquinas understood the osmotic process by which people are infected by incomplete cultural ideas in moral terms: “There is not much sinning because of man’s natural desires. But the stimuli of desire which man’s cunning has devised are something else, and for the sake of these one sins very much.” The Angelic Philosopher is being positive in referring to our nature as essentially good. But if our nature is good, we should use it well. Immersed in culture as we are, we are sitting ducks for the various temptations it provides. A person becomes more inclined to sin through cultural seduction than because of his natural appetites. Aquinas’s statement is sympathetic toward vulnerable human beings and sharply critical of the concentration of bad ideas that circulate within culture.

The distinguished Thomistic philosopher Josef Pieper is in agreement with Saint Thomas. In his classic The Four Cardinal Virtues, Pieper states that “Intemperance is enkindled above all by the seductive glamour of the stimuli provided in an artificial civilization, with which the dishonorable team of blind lust and calculated greed surround the province of sexuality.” This is a bombshell of a sentence! Temperance is one of the four cardinal virtues. Lust and greed are two of the seven deadly sins. The combination of intemperance with two deadly sins is explosive. We need strong virtues in order to resist the lure of a synthesis of strong temptations.

St. Thomas uses the term “cunning.” In the modern era, this notion has become greatly enlarged and is now accurately expressed by the phrase that Pieper employs: “artificial civilization.” Technology dominates the cultural landscape, and along with it, pornography, abortion, euthanasia, gender dysphoria, puberty blockers, and harmful drugs, together with various “devices” that hyperstimulate. Our weak “semipermeable membrane” is a poor defense against the toxic ideas that “push” their way into our hearts and minds.

The daily news informs us of the pandemic of moral horrors, including mass murders, which have left many people both confused and distraught. The attempt to rectify the situation seems futile as the problems increase. The essence of the moral problems that are currently tearing society apart is something that is usually ignored. Furthermore, the application of the usual bromides, especially those of a political nature, is insufficient. One must go to the heart of the dilemma.

On one side of the problem is a seductive culture. Yet, the liberal “freedom from responsibility” mood in society that has helped to bring about this plague of problems remains unattended. Nonetheless, something must be done to begin the detoxification of culture. The first step would be to awaken people to the fact that the great liberal experiment has not only failed but has worsened the situation.

On the other side of the problem is the relatively defenseless person, especially the teenager whose moral defense system has not been adequately developed and is therefore a victim of today’s artificial world. The remedies for this problem are more within reach than the task of transforming culture. Families and small communities must take the initiative and instruct people about the present situation, which demands understanding, discipline, the development of one’s spirituality, and community support. If people are freezing within their house, the solution for them is not to add clothing but to get at the source of the problem—which is the open door that is inviting the cold. We baptize a bad culture with the word “progress,” but as G. K. Chesterton has reminded us, “progress is a comparative about which we have not settled the superlative.” Where are we going? Although we boast that we are “liberal,” we are not at all happy with what is going on. The Danish poet Piet Hien has remarked that “The noble art of losing face may one day save the human race.” Recognizing that being “liberal” is not liberating requires “losing face.” We must abandon the twin illusions that we are experiencing cultural progress and that liberal politics is a corrective for all our ills. Character, so badly needed, is built not through osmosis but through the combination of learning, discipline, brotherly love, and God’s readily available assistance.

Philosophy has much to say about abortion. But it also sheds light on the climate that seduces people into thinking that abortion is a good. Dostoevsky, Pieper, and Aquinas belong to different centuries. They speak in different languages and write in radically different forms. The more important point is that they all attest to the universality of philosophy. They urge their readers to think realistically and resist the lure of the world. Marshall McLuhan, who directed his philosophical abilities to understanding the media, informs us that, “When the human spirit feels drawn into the mesh of the man-made images of the electric world, it sacrifices its identity.” Narcissus spent his last days transfixed by his own image mirrored in the pool. By looking at himself, he could see nothing else. Narcissism and abortion are curiously intertwined. The purpose of philosophy is understanding. This is fundamental in the sense that it serves as the basis for all the positive things that follow. Without a basis, the edifice crumbles. Nonetheless, philosophy is not enough. Added to understanding must be warmth and acceptance. To be pro-life is to be part of a community that is broad enough to encompass everyone. We the living must share our lives with everyone, as much as possible—including, of course, our enemies. Life is to be shared. Abortion sets itself against this sharing of life. Therefore, it represents a moral problem that cannot be ignored. Words can enlighten. Love can accept. We live by a hope that is not discouraged by difficulty. Each human life is of infinite importance. How much good each of us can accomplish in our brief hour is known only to God. But we find joy and meaning as we never cease striving.

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Original Bio:

Donald DeMarco is a professor emeritus of St. Jerome’s University and former correspondent for the Pontifical Academy of Life. He is the author of 42 books and innumerable articles. He and his wife, Mary, reside in Waterloo, Ontario. They have five children and thirteen grandchildren.