A few weeks ago Ruth Marcus caused quite a stir with a commentary in The Washington Post entitled “I would’ve aborted a fetus with Down syndrome. Women need that right.” Her viewpoint was offered as a counterpoint to the actions of state legislatures in North Dakota, Ohio, Indiana, and Louisiana, which have passed legislation that prohibits abortion if the sole reason for terminating the pregnancy is a pre-natal diagnosis of Down Syndrome, a genetic problem that results in impaired cognitive functioning and health problems associated with a shortened lifespan. Ms. Marcus framed this controversy as an attack on the reproductive rights of women, and data she quoted seemed to demonstrate that the majority of women would not choose to bring a child with Down Syndrome into the world because of the long-term financial costs involved—as well as the emotional toll on the parents and family.
However, I wonder whether this horrid discussion actually touches on much broader issues that increasingly vex our nation and seem more and more at the core of many controversies: Are there reasonable financial limits to our compassion, and how should these limitations translate into issues of law and public policy?
Americans are often adverse to the notion of limitations, which is reflected in our continued political inability to live within our means. Our breathtaking levels of federal debt, which has more than doubled in just the past ten years to $21 trillion, and willingness to both impose all sorts of unfunded mandates and pass legislation that robs the future to pay for the present is symptomatic of our societal refusal to grapple with economic reality. Ms. Marcus’ decision-making might seem cold-hearted and inhumane to some, but she is at least honest about the financial limitations of her personal compassion for others.
Public policy and spending are likewise increasingly embroiled in questions regarding the boundary between compassion and foolishness. Whether we are discussing healthcare, housing, education, immigration, or a host of other concerns, the shape of the dialogue does not vary. On the one side we have those who are arguing for limitations based on fiscal reality—they are the “heartless” ones. On the other side, we have those who demand expansion or protection of government programs and services—they are the “compassionate” ones. The dynamic plays out over and over, much like that endless loop of Muzak in the dentist’s office while your teeth are being drilled, and each side shakes their heads at the other while the borrowing and spending continues unabated. Our recent omnibus federal spending bill, which will tack another several hundred billion dollars of debt onto Americans by the end of only this fiscal year, is simply another in a long line of bipartisan failures to somehow balance compassion and the “heartless” arithmetic of fiscal reality.
Those of us who live in Illinois should have a front row seat for the collision of the rhetoric of our “heartless” Governor, Bruce Rauner, and his “compassionate” Democratic challenger, J.B. Pritzker, during the upcoming gubernatorial election. Governor Rauner will, probably to no avail, argue for more fiscal restraint because Illinois is crushed by debt. During just the past year—despite an increase in the state income tax and a strong national economy—the financial health of our state government has continued to deteriorate with astonishing speed. Illinois is now so far underwater that simply rising to the surface to gasp for air is now beyond all imagining.
The functional bankruptcy of our great state will, however, mean little to all those “compassionate” souls who will harken to Mr. Pritzker’s calls for increased spending on education, healthcare, senior care, and social programs. It is, after all, the belief of many that government exists to distribute benefits to the multitudes, which will somehow be financed by higher taxes on Illinois’ rapidly shrinking pool of “wealthy” taxpayers—many of whom are joining the general exodus of residents from Illinois as we sail blithely downwards toward insolvency.
It has been interesting to read the comments regarding Ms. Marcus’ ideas concerning the connection abortion rights and Down Syndrome. Many who agreed with her privileged her right to control her own future by refusing to accept responsibility for a child that would likely impose extra financial burdens on her life and that of her family. Her compassion in this situation is circumscribed by a dollar sign, which seems perfectly appropriate to those who worry about their life choices being limited by government.
Oddly enough, what many compassionate souls fail to recognize is that their demands for more—and more expensive—government programs and benefits are corroding our individual rights because it is binding our futures to unsustainable debt that will limit the choices available to us all. Politicians often try to mitigate the shock of out-of-control spending by framing pure pork as “investments”, but more commonly any effort to rein in spending is positioned as a test of our “compassion”, which puts those who want to spend away our collective futures in the morally enviable positions of being the nice people fighting against those nasty folks who aren’t nearly as good-hearted and generous. We don’t wear signs around our necks detailing the amounts of debt our federal, state, and local governments have saddled us with paying, but anyone who is, for example, struggling with the monthly costs of student loan payments has a clear understanding of how yesterday’s debt tends to constrict the choices available today.
Setting aside the question of the obvious immorality inherent in ending the life of a child for reasons that, high-flown rhetoric aside, pretty much boil down to personal convenience, Ms. Marcus is at least astute enough to recognize that her compassion has a price tag attached—and she can easily recognize this because the costs will not be spread out among our nation’s beleaguered taxpayers. The next time she publicly advocates for more borrowing and spending due to her finely tuned sense of concern for others, perhaps she should remember how the money borrowed today to help demonstrate how much more wonderful she is (unlike those meanies who understand arithmetic) simply burdens generations of Americans to come with the bill for her marvelous “compassion”.
If anyone can effectively explain why bankrupting our nation and its citizens with government spending is compassionate, there is a future in politics—or perhaps an editorship at The Washington Post—waiting for you.