I frequently walk by Planned Parenthood on Cass Avenue. I am glad it’s there. I hold it in high regard for the vital services that it provides. But I must admit, I’ve never done too much research into its history. Let’s face it: as far as American institutions go, Planned Parenthood is among the most divisive. This is an unfortunate reality of our political landscape. Although the United States is saturated with different backgrounds and traditions, it is always hard for me to appreciate how those on the Right continue to demonize and shame women who do not wish to give birth to a child. But how did we get to this point? I appreciated our assignment because it gave me a newfound appreciation of Planned Parenthood and birth control from a sociohistorical perspective, without the frequently administered political element, which I think we have all overdosed on.
Giving birth is a big deal. It is the most personal of choices. It must be thoroughly thought out and planned for, but of course, that’s not how reality unfolds. A mother should be able to commit to her new child for the rest of her life. Unfortunately, the father does not face the same restrictions. This leads to a common scenario that transforms single women into single mothers, who rank among the most vulnerable population in this country. If the mother is unable to properly care for her new child — nursing, nurturing, raising, socializing, and educating — the repercussions will likely be disastrous. Doubly so for teenage girls. These days, marriage is less predominant, and women have a lower fertility rate. This is because women do not necessarily need to be tied down anymore. A significant portion of the population has become wise to the emotional and financial investment that comes with having children. We must credit Margaret Sanger for the progress that’s been made over the past century.
I watched a 1957 Mike Wallace-Margaret Singer interview on YouTube. After Mr. Wallace spent a few minutes praising the natural taste of Phillip Morris cigarettes, he grilled Sanger. He attempted to psychoanalyze her. Maybe she pursued this movement because she came from a family of 11 children? He raised some interesting points regarding the motivations of the Catholic Church. Perhaps they wanted to ban birth control because they wanted more Catholics in the world? He brought up the words of a priest in the Deep South who objected to birth control because it would encourage sinful female promiscuity. Ms. Sanger laughed that one off. She was confident and firm in her rebuttals of the Church. She derided the Church for speaking as if it were God. She objected to the notion that the purpose of marriage was to beget children, but rather that it was about love and attraction. Procreation is secondary, according to her. Her words would not be out of place if they were spoken on tomorrow’s cable news.
I’m a fan of 20th-century pop narratives. They have a jaunty Romantic quality to them that film just can’t replicate (sorry, Choices of the Heart, you’re just a little too corny for me). I have enjoyed reading Jonathan Eig’s “The Birth of the Pill.” He does a nice job of portraying the major players, and he vividly synthesized the spirit of my grandparents’ era. Pincus is an interesting character. His laboratory work was graphic and brutal, but I liked learning about his motives and his rise from obscurity. Many things about Margaret Sanger surprised me. From my initial quick research, I expected her to be a holier-than-thou crusader like Mother Theresa. Turns out I was partially correct, as the post-mortem on both women is more complex and controversial than the summary of what they stood for and accomplished.
On the personal level, she is a somewhat disappointing figure, as great people often become under closer scrutiny. And though I try to resist my own psycho-historical impulses, it is fun to consider what her motivations were. It would be one thing if, after growing up in a family with 11 children, she vowed never to have one of her own, like an 1860s temperance zealot who vowed never to touch a drop of the stuff because her father was a violent alcoholic. I thought she would have learned from what she perceived to be the mistakes of her parents. She did not, at least until it was too late. She inherited her mother’s knack for bearing children and her father’s sexual appetite. Even though she believed that the traditional role of mother and wife, she had three children with a man she did not love. She was not a good mother. She ignored her kids and ultimately abandoned her family in favor of frolicking around Europe. I felt a tinge of pity for her children. How would you feel if your own mother was the world’s leading advocate of opposing birth? That’s my primary criticism of her. But then again, her vision transcends the personal. That may very well be a product of being a revolutionary woman. Plenty of great men have also been subpar fathers.
In the grand scheme, I am impressed with what Sanger was able to accomplish. Early on, you could tell she was destined for greatness. She had a coherent worldview. For the most part, she knew what she wanted and pursued it. It seems to me that as a result of harrowing personal experiences — such as being arrested for violating the laughable Comstock Act — a fire was lit deep within her soul. Instead of becoming vengeful and viewing her oppression as a personal shame, she took action. She was instrumental in the implementation of a revolution in religion, economics, and love. I particularly admire her for her resourcefulness. She understood that she needed the help of others, and cultivated friendships with wealthy benefactors, deep thinkers, and brazen scientists. She consistently used the zeitgeist of the times to advance her cause, such as capsizing on WWI soldiers’ fear of venereal disease. Her awareness and organization were unparalleled.
Sanger is also remembered for her contribution to the eugenics movement. This is a word that carries an automatic negative association for me. The first thing I think of is the genocidal context, chiefly Nazi Germany’s plan to eradicate the world from Jews. But eugenics is larger than that, and Sanger was mostly on the right side of the issue. I think the view of human eugenics in the Malthusian context is a bit shoddy. There is enough space and resources on Earth to support a huge world population, one that has tripled since her heyday. But from a socioeconomic perspective, her viewpoint resonates with me. It is a sad sight to see children begotten recklessly by parents with neither the education nor the funds to raise them properly, let alone the psychic discipline and energy. There are many millions of them, and not just in developing countries. In places like the United States, there is a link between this phenomenon and low levels of education. It is quite evident how it becomes a vicious intergenerational circle. This places a huge burden on the government’s finite resources. I am a believer in public assistance through taxes, but there is a limit. These children oftentimes resort to a life of crime in order to obtain some semblance of the “ideal lifestyle” thrust upon us by the omnipotent media. It leads to depression and anxiety and resentment and distrust; a state of affairs that produces strong negative feelings, feelings that are so very real on the individual level, but that in order to understand must be viewed from a cold-hearted sociological perspective. Unfortunately, this problem will only grow. Kids are born into poverty because procreation is such a basic instinct. The post-pubescent mind wants to have sex. They oftentimes don’t think about the consequences. Either no one ever taught them, or they think having babies at 18 is the norm. Is there really any difference?
There will continue to be a divide between the informed and the non-informed. That goes for birth and childcare, as well as hot-button issues like rape, sexual harassment, abortion, domestic violence, and guns (hmm, it seems all of these issues boil down to sex). The media allows anyone with internet access to participate in discussions. This is a valuable tool, but it also creates an echo chamber. People consider echo chambers to be dangerous, and they can be, but they also can get on one’s nerves, whether you’re listening to someone coming from a place of reason or a place of ignorance. We often witness sensible people talking about solutions to our social ills. Actually, “solutions” may not be the right word. Instead, they want to “have a dialogue.” But it’s not a dialogue. It’s a monologue among people who already share the same ideology. For example, a politician’s word reaches one part of society — the people who already agree with them — and bounces right off another group like Teflon. People tend to listen to the viewpoints they are familiar with, and this leads to a certain degree of unbearable self-righteousness. Let’s just agree that there are no cut-and-dry answers to these questions. Every person in America has the same rights. But when everybody has a unique situation, and acts out on a whim, as humans do, it’s basically impossible to address the issues with sweeping policy. That is the price of democracy.
We live in a post-sexual revolution society. The aim of most women today is not just to settle down and have a family — it’s to get an education, have a career, enjoy experiences, and perhaps multiple partners too. The same goes for men. There is less need for women to find a life partner today because women have more opportunities to be their own person, not just Mrs. Husband’sLastName. There will always be people that try to justify their adherence to the strict patriarchal rules of the past. The continued existence of these types makes it seem like progress will never propel itself far enough. When will we, as a society, be satisfied? I can only speak for myself. Men and women are on the same playing field now. From a structural standpoint, it is still an issue — wage gaps come to mind — but we are heading in the right direction. That is undebatable. One only needs to look at the enrollment numbers for Wayne State’s School of Medicine, with women significantly outnumbering the guys. Thanks largely to Margaret Sanger, women have been liberated from the roles of the past, and they’re doing great.
Benjamin Samuel Young 