The abortion issue is difficult, sensitive, and personal. My faith and conscience led me to conclude that human life is sacred. God created man in His image and therefore every person has value in His eyes. It seemed to me that an unborn child, while dependent on its mother, is a separate and independent being worthy of protection in its own right. When I saw Barbara and Jenna on the sonogram for the first time, there was no doubt in my mind they were distinct and alive. The fact that they could not speak for themselves only enhanced society’s duty to defend them.
Many decent and thoughtful people disagreed, including members of my family. I understood their reasons and respected their views. As president, I had no desire to condemn millions as sinners or dump new fuel on raging cultural fires. I did feel a responsibility to voice my pro-life convictions and lead the country toward what Pope John Paul II called a culture of life. I was convinced that most Americans agreed we would be better off with fewer abortions. One of my first acts in the White House was to reinstate the so-called Mexico City Policy, which prevented federal funding for groups that promote abortion overseas. I supported state laws requiring parental notification for minors seeking abortions. And I supported, signed, and defended a bill banning the grisly practice of partial-birth abortion.
Laura and I were also strong supporters of adoption. After having difficulty conceiving children, it was hard for us to imagine anyone rejecting what we considered a precious gift. Yet as the father of daughters, I could envision the dilemma facing a scared teenager with an unplanned pregnancy. Adoption was such a positive alternative to abortion, a way to save one life and brighten two more: those of the adoptive parents. I was pleased to sign legislation increasing funding for crisis pregnancy counseling centers, as well as to expand tax credits to offset the costs of adoption.
In the long run, I hoped a change in hearts would lead to a change in law, as new technologies like 3-D ultrasounds help more Americans recognize the humanity of unborn babies. I also hoped political leaders would continue to speak out for a culture that values all innocent human life. Bob Casey, the late Democratic governor of Pennsylvania, said it welclass="underline" “When we look to the unborn child, the real issue is not when life begins, but when love begins.”
Beginning in the spring of 2001, Margaret, Jay, and Karl Rove—who was in close touch with advocacy groups on both sides of the issue—invited a series of distinguished scientists, ethicists, religious thinkers, and advocates to discuss embryonic stem cell research. The conversations fascinated me. The more I learned, the more questions I had. When I delivered the commencement address at Notre Dame, I brought up embryonic stem cell research with Father Ed “Monk” Malloy, the president of the university. When I spoke at Yale the next day, I raised the topic with Dr. Harold Varmus of the Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center. At a birthday party for a doctor in the White House Medical Unit, I asked all the physicians there what they thought. As word got out that I was seeking opinions, I was bombarded with input from Cabinet secretaries, staffers, outside advisers, and friends.
Of course, I asked Laura for her advice. Her father had died of Alz-heimer’s, her mother had suffered from breast cancer, and she held out great hope for the possibility of new cures. But she worried that advocacy groups would overpromise what embryonic stem cell research could achieve, leaving desperate families with dashed hopes.
Members of the scientific community presented two main arguments in favor of funding embryonic stem cell research. First was the medical potential. Researchers told me there were millions of Americans suffering from diseases that might be alleviated through treatments derived from embryonic stem cells. Experts believed that only a few stem cell lines would be needed to explore the science and determine its value. “If we had ten to fifteen lines, no one would complain,” Irv Weissman, a prominent researcher from Stanford, told the New York Times.
A research team from the National Institutes of Health told me that several dozen stem cell lines were already under development. They also reported some preliminary research into alternative ways of deriving stem cells without destroying embryos. Their unanimous opinion was that denying federal support for embryonic stem cell research would result in a missed opportunity. Taxpayer dollars were important not only as a source of financing, they explained, but also as a seal of approval for scientific innovation.
The scientists’ second point was a practical one: Most of the embryos used to derive the stem cells would likely be discarded anyway. The primary source of these embryos was In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) clinics. When a couple signed up for IVF, doctors usually fertilized more eggs than they implanted in the prospective mother. As a result, some embryos would be left after the treatment was complete. They were usually frozen and stored by the fertility clinic. Since these so-called spare embryos were not going to be used to conceive children, scientists argued, didn’t it make sense to use them for research that could potentially save lives?
One of the groups most actively supporting embryonic stem cell research was the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. In July 2001, I invited representatives from the organization to the Oval Office. Among the delegation were two friends of mine, Woody Johnson and Mike Overlock. Both men were political backers, and both had children suffering from diabetes. They were passionate, compelling advocates with an unmistakable devotion to their children. But their certainty about a rapid embryonic stem cell breakthrough surprised me. When I pointed out that the science was unproven and that there could be alternatives to embryo destruction, it was obvious that the advocacy group had left no room for doubt in their minds. The meeting was a window into the passions the issue could generate.
That same day, I also met representatives of National Right to Life. They opposed any research that destroyed embryos. They pointed out that each tiny stem cell cluster had the potential to grow into a person. In fact, all of us had started our lives in this early state. As evidence, they pointed to a new program run by Nightlight Christian Adoptions. The agency secured permission from IVF participants to place their unused frozen embryos up for adoption. Loving mothers had the embryos implanted in them and carried the babies—known as snowflakes—to term. The message was unmistakable: Within every frozen embryo were the beginnings of a child.
Many of the bioethicists I met took the same position. They acknowledged that most embryos frozen in IVF clinics would not become children. Yet they argued that there was a moral difference between allowing embryos to die naturally and proactively ending their lives. Sanctioning the destruction of life to save life, they argued, crossed into dangerous moral territory. As one put it, “The fact that a being is going to die does not entitle us to use it as a natural resource for exploitation.”
I heard some opinions that surprised me. Dr. Dan Callahan, a thoughtful ethicist, told me he was pro-choice on abortion but against embryonic stem cell research. He believed there was a moral distinction between aborting a baby for the direct benefit of its mother and destroying an embryo for the vague and indirect purpose of scientific research. Dr. Benjamin Carson, one of the world’s most respected surgeons, told me that stem cell research could be valuable, but that scientists should focus on alternatives to embryo destruction, such as collecting stem cells from the blood of umbilical cords. On the other hand, Orrin Hatch and Strom Thurmond, two of the most staunchly pro-life members of the Senate, supported federal funding for embryonic stem cell research because they thought the benefit of saving lives outweighed the cost of destroying embryos.