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The Sexual Revolution, or, sending babies to the Guillotine

From the pen of the highly esteemed Mr. Barbieri:
 
… What is certain is that the “sexual revolution” begins with a complete falsification of the nature and purpose of sexual activity. The mere mechanics of sexual activity, of course, point to reproduction; and its emotional collateral points to life as a couple. However, the “sexual revolution” is based on a number of assumptions that are incompatible with them. Sex, it assumes, is a human need which must not be suppressed or denied. The important thing is not who to have it with, or for what purpose, but to have it….
 
…A woman who places her sense of self-worth in her sexual fulfillment cannot but regard any restriction in the danger-free, responsibility-free condition of sex as a direct threat, not just to her living standards, but to her self-worth….

…Abortion is the place where this appalling pack of lies meets reality….

 
Read the whole thing. 

Speaking for myself, I was not an anti-abortionist until after I read the decision of Roe v. Wade. It was in fact the very first legal decision we read: it was passed out during orientation in Law School. It was also the poorest bit of legal reasoning of all the cases I read in all three years of Law School: it quotes no authority, no precedent, gives no guidelines to distinguish the case under considerations from parallel cases. 

It was not until I saw a picture of my firstborn in the womb that I became committed emotionally to antiabortion. The doctor advised us to abort Orville. Seeing that these people were trying to get me to kill my son, whom I am honor bound to love and protect, washed the scales from my eyes. 

I was also raised to believe in the axioms of the sexual revolution. It was merely part of the atmosphere of the age: everyone from Robert Heinlein to Ayn Rand told me that sex was recreation, not reproduction. Seeing that these people were trying to get me to fornicate, to cheat on my wife before I even had a wife, when honor demands self-control, began to offend my cold Vulcan heart. Why were all of them cheering for the lack of self-command? Why, suddenly, was self-discipline, trustworthiness, purity, honor, and goodness to be mocked? Why was virginity shameful and harlotry admirable? Would Epictetus or Seneca or Cicero or Marcus Aurelius have said, “Well, if your emotion is stronger than your reason, indulge! Wallow like a swine in heat with a sow! You need no live like an honest man. Surrender your brain to your loins, and act without regard to consequences.” 

It also began to offend my ferocious poet’s heart. Where was the romance, the glamour, the allure? The Sexual Revolution made sex boring, robbed it of meaning, robbed life of its adventure. Why are so many romance novels set in the years long before this revolution? Because the mystique was still alive.

As far as the sexual revolt goes, count me as loyal to the ancient regime.

 

About

John C. Wright is a practicing philosopher, a retired attorney, newspaperman, and newspaper editor, and a published author of science fiction. Once a Houyhnhnm, he was expelled from the august ranks of purely rational beings when he fell in love; but retains an honorary title.

March 9, 2007 @ 9:55 am
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