I recently became embroiled in a short debate over Partial Birth Abortion, then through that about Planned Paretnhood.
A piece in the local newspaper written by a PP doctor decried the Supreme Court's recent decision. In her piece, she cited a patient “who was 23 and had an 8--year-old, a 5-year-old, a 2-year-old, and 8-month-old twins. She loved her children, but did not think she could possibly manage to take care of another.”
My response to that piece was that it seemed as if the woman was being used as a tool in the debate to support abortion, and there was no sense that her many other needs were being addressed. I pointed out that there was a values gap.
I did cite the profits PP made through abortion and birth control, suggesting that those might be its priorities. Admittedly controversial. That raised some hackles.
One of the person's responding to me launched into an offensive attack on the Catholic Church - which hadn't even been part of the original article and hadn't been cited previously.
The responder said his main point is “there are two sides to every story.”
In preparing a response, I thought of Chesterton's technique of taking the opponent's argument, and turning it on its head. Ah, that I had his gifts.
"You won’t get any argument from me. There are often two sides – sometimes even more.
There is the side of the thief, for example, and the side of the person who was robbed.
There’s the side of the polluter, and the side of the person who gets sick because of the pollution.
There’s the side of the racist, and the side of the person who was harmed by the racist.
You see, while there may often be two sides to a story, that does not make both sides equally valid or right."
Philosophy for the Schoolroom
3 days ago