Reflections on Economic Value and Abortion

I haven’t seen “Soylent Green,” but I do remember a “Saturday Night Live” sketch featuring Phil Hartman as Charlton Heston, yelling, “Soylent Green is made out of people! It’s people!” That’s pretty much all I needed to grasp the concept.

The unsettling theme here suggests that human bodies aren’t just useful; they’re seen through a utilitarian lens. It’s not just about what humans produce; it’s about how society perceives their value. Individuals may be valued based on their productivity, or deemed expendable if they hinder production.

The truly terrifying aspect of a misguided mindset isn’t that it concocts evil plots in the dark. It’s the chilling fact that such evil can start to feel reasonable.

This week, a comment Chelsea Clinton made about abortion in 2018 has resurfaced, sparking discussions on pro-life social media. The viral take on her statement claims she suggested that abortion has saved the U.S. trillions of dollars.

That assertion sounds grotesque—and honestly, it is grotesque. However, to be fair, it’s worth examining the context of what she actually expressed.

I turned to Snopes for some clarity. Apparently, Clinton didn’t literally claim that abortion alone saved the nation money. Rather, she pointed out that the increase in women’s workforce participation, which she linked to the rights established after the Roe v. Wade decision, contributed trillions to the economy.

While that distinction holds water, it doesn’t quite resolve the underlying moral issues at play.

During a “Rise Up for Roe” event in 2018, Clinton remarked that women’s entry into the workforce from 1973 to 2009 added $3.5 trillion to the economy.

Then she added a pivotal line: “The net, new entrance of women — that is not disconnected from the fact that Roe became the law of the land in January of 1973.”

Clinton went on to imply that those who might be indifferent to arguments about abortion rights could still see a connection through economic reasoning.

When critics turned that into simpler terminology—saying abortion drove economic growth—Clinton pushed back. She clarified that her point was about how women’s workforce presence was tied to their reproductive health care choices, which included the effects of the post-Roe era.

Okay, so let’s grant that correction. It still doesn’t address the core problem—if anything, it emphasizes it.

Clinton wasn’t asserting that every abortion leads to a direct financial gain for the government. Her argument focused on how legal abortions were part of a network of conditions that enabled more women to join or stay in the workforce, thereby generating substantial economic value, which could be seen as an argument in favor of abortion rights.

Look closely, and you’ll see how a human life enters an economic equation.

It boils down to a straightforward calculation: Pregnancy can lead to career interruptions, reduced hours, or lost income. Abortion might alleviate those economic impacts. Thus, some argue that abortion plays a role in enhancing economic productivity.

When you lay it out plainly, the moral ugliness becomes apparent.

Most reasonable people instinctively understand that some calculations should never determine the worth of a human life. Just consider the chilling thought that America might be wealthier with some groups simply erased.

I suspect many liberals would recoil, driven by a deeper understanding that these numbers represent real human beings.

That’s the catch—the questions surrounding abortion advocates often sidestep the moral ledger entirely.

The critical question isn’t whether abortion makes it easier for someone to achieve financial success; the real question is, Who is the unborn child?

The unborn child isn’t the mother or the father. It’s a separate, living human entity, and the ethical dilemma revolves around what we owe to that being.

This principle is universally recognized: one cannot intentionally end the life of an innocent human being just because their existence incurs economic burdens on others. We don’t measure an innocent person’s right to live against someone else’s earning potential, weighing which side tips the scale.

Yet abortion seems to receive this ambiguous moral exemption all too readily.

Clinton’s point doesn’t necessitate the conclusion that more abortions are inherently beneficial for the economy, nor did she explicitly claim that. The underlying issues are subtler and graver: once economics enters the discussion as a justification for supporting abortion access, the life of the unborn child becomes just one factor in a cost-benefit analysis.

Money wasn’t just an incidental point in her speech; it was an argument presented for consideration. There’s an ancient term for this kind of reasoning—Mammon.

Historically, societies sacrificed humans to please their gods, convincing themselves that such sacrifices were reasonable. The potential for prosperity or military victories justified the appalling nature of their actions.

Modern man looks upon those practices with horror, proud of having moved past naive superstition.

Now, however, the unborn child is cast as an obstacle to reproduction, with the economic benefits of removing that obstacle rationalized as enlightenment. The name may have changed, but the enticing temptation remains disturbingly familiar.

Scripture provides insights into how intelligent people can arrive at such dark conclusions. Judgment isn’t only reserved for the end of time; it can manifest in the here and now. God can let those in rebellion experience the outcomes of their choices. Their thoughts may grow futile, and their hearts darkened. They may consider themselves wise, yet become fools.

This form of judgment is particularly frightening because it can be perceived as enlightenment.

The grim consequence of rejecting good is ultimately losing the ability to discern the evil embedded in one’s own reasoning.

It’s unsettling; the darkened mind may not plot evil each day, but rather, evil may start to seem reasonable. Categories become inverted. Killing morphs into health care; economic productivity becomes a supportive argument for it.

An argument that should horrify begins to resemble respectable public policy.