Thursday, February 16, 2012

Santorum and the Ethics of Sex: It's Not Just for Making Babies Anymore

I am frankly flabbergasted that  contraception has become a serious issue of conversation lately.  I am also baffled that it is being referred to as a moral issue.  Theological?  Sure.  But moral?  Really?  

Rick Santorum put it this way,
"One of the things I will talk about that no president has talked about before is I think the dangers of contraception in this country, the whole sexual libertine idea. Many in the Christian faith have said, “Well, that’s okay. Contraception’s okay.”

It’s not okay because it’s a license to do things in the sexual realm that is counter to how things are supposed to be. They’re supposed to be within marriage, they are supposed to be for purposes that are, yes, conjugal, but also unitive, but also procreative. That’s the perfect way that a sexual union should happen. We take any part of that out, we diminish the act. And if you can take one part out that’s not for purposes of procreation, that’s not one of the reasons, then you diminish this very special bond between men and women, so why can’t you take other parts of that out? And all of a sudden, it becomes deconstructed to the point where it’s simply pleasure. And that’s certainly a part of it—and it’s an important part of it, don’t get me wrong—but there’s a lot of things we do for pleasure, and this is special, and it needs to be seen as special."
The idea that having a sexual encounter without the intention or likelihood of conception is to moraly diminish the act is wrong.  The ethics of making babies are different from the ethics of making whoopie.  They may involve the same mechanics, but morally, they are completely different acts.  Baby-making is a goal directed activity where any pleasure that might be created is secondary.  The object is insemination.  Especially in the case of couples who need to try repeatedly to conceive, the act loses the glow we usually attribute to it.  Far from easing tension, it may cause great anxiety.  The playfulness and intimacy are replaced by a basal thermometer working like a job-site foreman telling you to get to work.  

The process of baby-making reduces the partners to their most basic animal selves.  At that time, you are little different from farm animals out to stud.  Aristotle and John Stuart Mill are among the philosophers who saw actions that reduce humans to animals to be ethically degrading, to be morally below humans and it seems that this purely biological function would have to be included in that category.

But, of course, that is not necessarily the case.  The act is one where you are thinking beyond yourselves.  It can be truly an act of the deepest care.  A philosopher colleague of mine once said to me that there is nothing that affirms life like creating it.  To willingly seek the responsibility of bringing a life into the world with the intention of creating a loving space in which to nurture a human being is selfless and wonderful.

This is not to say that one cannot act selfishly in trying to conceive.  Thinking that it will repair a broken relationship is a bad, bad idea. The person who thinks that having a baby will make him or her seem more grown up or is simply looking for a tax deduction is mitigating the moral goodness and most likely will be a lousy parent. 

There are also utilitarian considerations.  There are better and worse times to get pregnant.  There are better and worse situations in which to bring a child.  These considerations are certainly part of the story.  It does not mean at all that people who do not live lives of privilege should not reproduce, but only that in one's full consideration about having children, the place in the world that the child will occupy is one morally relevant factor.

Just as every reason for baby making isn't a good one, so too there are good reasons for not making babies.  Having children is not a moral imperative.  People who choose to remain childless are not necessarily acting in ways that are immoral for their selfishness.  Choosing to not have children because you think that you would not be able to meet the very high moral expectations of parenthood is a noble choice, not a selfish one – even if you have to put up with years and years of your mother bemoaning her lack of grandchildren.  Autonomy means being able to choose your projects.  For some people that includes a contribution to the next generation, but that is not the only way one can help to make the world a better place.  If one is in a position to be able to do it well, parenthood is a morally wonderful act.  It is an act unlike any other that affirms life.  But it is not morally necessary.

Just as making babies is morally distinct from making whoopee, there are also several morally distinct cases of non-baby-making sexual activity.  To lump all of them together as selfish acts of the most base sort of pleasure seeking is to paint with far too broad a brush.  We'll consider several different cases.

How do our moral systems respond to sexual activities with a committed partner about whom you care deeply?  Let’s look at our boxes.  Certainly no one has a right to demand intimacy, nor does one have a duty to provide it.  And everyone certainly has the right to bodily autonomy that would allow one to say no if intimacy is undesired.  But to address this issue solely in terms of rights and duties is simply an inappropriate framework to capture the full human depth of this issue.
Utility is clearly an issue.  On the one hand, if executed by technically proficient practitioners, sexual activities should produce ecstatic pleasure for both partners.  The comfort, the closeness, the anticipation, the arousal, the climax – all contribute to tipping the universal balance in the direction of pleasure.  If we are seeking to create a world with the best balance of pleasure over pain, this would certainly be one way to bring about more pleasure.

But there are, of course, questions about long-term utility as well.  If done without protection, the results could be catastrophic.  Unwanted pregnancies are a big deal.  Sexually transmitted diseases are a big deal.  Waking up the next morning and thinking, "Where am I? Is that who I think it is?  Oh my God...." is a big deal.  All of these negative factors can swamp the positive utility derived from the act.  So utility is certainly part of the conversation, but again, this does not seem like the complete framework for our consideration.  We don’t make love based on a cost/benefit analysis – at least not legally.

Care certainly is a major factor.  When you make love to your partner, the act itself, especially if both are being attentive to the needs, preferences, and desires of the other, makes the experience one which deepens the relationship between you.  The playfulness, the passion, the deeply personal contact gives lovers a connection, a bond that is very special, not only in terms of emotional attachment, but also in ethical terms.  Being someone’s lover, especially an exclusive lover, places deeply personal parts of yourself into the life of the other.  We are sexual beings.  All people have that element to them, although for each it is expressed differently.  That expression is part of who you are, and by looking to someone to accept and embrace that part of you is to endow him/her with a very special role.  To be a lover is to embed yourself deeply in the self of your beloved.  It is a deep form of care.
               
In addition to care, virtue also is relevant.  It is unfortunate, however, that the word “virtue” gets used in a loaded fashion in a sexual context.  Particularly applied to women, the term “virtue” historically has been linked to chastity.  This usage begs exactly the question we are considering.  Is chastity really a virtue?  Here, Aristotle seems to provide some guidance.  Certainly self-control is virtuous.  One who acts out of uncontrollable lust is certainly not actualizing their potential as an ideal human because such actions would lead to a character which sees the bodies of other people as things, mere objects for his or her use. 

But is an ideal human one who is rigidly abstinent?  What is the effect on one’s character by completely rejecting a natural avenue of joy?  Turning away from the possibility of enjoying the pleasures of life, leads one to not even see the beauty, the possibilities for joy in front of one’s own eyes or to see them through a lens in which they become distorted into sources of fear, resentment, and/or alienation.  The world and what is in it ceases to be presented as something appreciable, and this leads one to not even consider the possibility of the bliss that may be derived from it.  Aristotle says that the life spent seeking pleasure is a life for cattle, but a life where avenues of pleasure are shut off is also one sadly impoverished, one that fails to realize what a full, rich human existence can be.

The choice between the two extremes is a case of false alternatives.  Aristotle’s notion of virtue as the mean between vices here seems appropriate.  Is there a middle path – one in which certain sorts of bodily indulgence help form a good human character when combined with other virtues of gentleness, generosity, and a sense of rhythm?  Of course, there is.  This is why we often feel awkward looking for that right time to begin intimacy with someone we realize we have real feelings for.  Intuitively, we have the sense that there is a mean to be sought here:  to jump in the sack too soon would be to surrender to mere lust and cheapen what should be deep, but at the same time, we need not wait too long if the care is genuine because there is virtue in being authentically intimate with the object of our care.  And if the object of our care is also the object of our desire, moving a bit to the lust side of the equation ain’t the worst thing either…at least not the first five or six times.  After that, even Aristotle would say to get some sleep.

So the real key here is care, consideration of the lover, and a full appreciation for the joy that a lover can bring to one’s life. To either unnecessarily constrain this connection with an artificial prohibition on certain sorts of contact or to treat the lover as a mere object to be used to satisfy one’s own urges is morally problematic, but one can certainly engage in all sorts of sexual activities without running afoul of such concerns. Good lovers are being good humans even if they are doing what they will to avoid creating other humans in the act.