by | November 14, 2024

Pro-choice and Pro-life: It’s Time for Better Terminology

Pro-choice and pro-life don’t reflect real lives. Learn why reproductive justice is the better framework for dignity, healthcare, and autonomy.

Labels like pro-choice and pro-life miss the mark. These terms force people into polarized camps that don’t account for the complex human experiences around reproductive decisions. Historically, women had autonomy over their bodies, but this changed as 19th-century narratives framed us as weak and in need of control.

Today, we need language that respects our unique experiences and shared humanity—words that invite us into honest conversations about our reproductive lives, free from divisive labels.

Two Labels and No Middle Ground

The terms “pro-choice” and “pro-life” have pushed people into camps that rarely represent the real lives of those I care for. These labels miss the nuances of what it means to decide on reproductive care, often glossing over layers of culture, economic struggle, and deeply personal values.

“Pro-choice” might sound liberating, but in reality, it often reduces a woman’s experience to a slogan. “Pro-life” dismisses the pregnant person in front of me who needs safe, compassionate healthcare. I want my patients to know they’re heard and respected—not just sorted into categories.

For years, I searched for something deeper and found reproductive justice—a framework beyond political labels. This term reflects every person’s right to make decisions based on their body, health, and life. Reproductive justice respects the multitude of decisions a woman can make about her capacity to reproduce and also takes into account the ability to raise children in safe and sustainable communities, removing the singular focus on abortion and the polarization attached to it.

It’s time we redefine the language around reproductive care to honor the full stories behind these decisions—stories that two phrases like “pro-choice” or “pro-life” could never capture.

The Historical Roots of Control

Our polarized debate has roots going back to when women held more agency over their bodies. In early America, women made reproductive decisions privately, often with the help of midwives or other women in their communities. The way society approached abortion was far less judgmental, relying on a woman’s intuition around quickening or when she felt fetal movement.

But this changed in the 19th century when abortion became politicized and medicalized. Male doctors pushed midwives aside and declared abortion a criminal act. These doctors actively undermined women’s knowledge of their own bodies. We’re still dealing with its impact today, seeing reproductive healthcare through a distorted lens that favors punishment over autonomy.

The Rise of the Anti-Abortion Movement

The anti-abortion movement started as a relatively narrow, religious cause and morphed into a broad, politically strategic force. Initially led by Catholic groups, the movement expanded by welcoming Protestants and other religions.

This shift was no accident. It was a deliberate strategy to redefine abortion as a universal moral issue, one that could attract people across political and social divides. According to the Stanford Clayman Institute, this inclusivity helped the anti-abortion movement become a defining force in American politics, blurring traditional religious and political boundaries.

However, religious conviction alone couldn’t carry the movement through the social upheaval of the 1960s. Leaders reframed their opposition to abortion using human rights language, drawing parallels to other struggles for equality and social justice.

As historian Daniel K. Williams notes in Time, this strategic shift allowed the movement to find common ground with civil rights advocates, antiwar activists, and even feminists, grounding their arguments in “the language of human rights.” This was no small feat—suddenly, abortion was a matter of civil rights, appealing to a wide range of Americans.

Today, we still feel the effects of these rhetorical shifts, which defined “pro-life” as an absolute moral stance while often ignoring the realities we face. This history is why “pro-life” and “pro-choice” continue to feel like locked doors, forcing people to choose sides rather than engage in respectful conversations.

Beyond the Battle Lines

It’s a mistake to think abortion views fall neatly along party lines. In my work, I’ve met pro-choice Republicans and pro-life Democrats, and each has their reasons—deeply personal, often rooted in cultural, religious, or individual values.

Political identity isn’t always a good predictor of someone’s beliefs about abortion. According to a PRRI report on political diversity in abortion views, people across the political spectrum support various aspects of reproductive health care, challenging this simplistic “pro-choice” and “pro-life” division.

I see this in Arizona, where deeply conservative policies don’t always reflect the majority’s views on abortion. Many Arizonans support access to care, even if they wouldn’t personally choose abortion or might hesitate to identify as “pro-choice.”

I encourage people to learn about “reproductive justice,” which encompasses a broader, more compassionate view of reproductive healthcare. Our lives and decisions are too complicated to be boxed into reductive labels that fail to address reality.

Toward Inclusive and Respectful Dialogue

The pro-choice and pro-life labels have boxed us into a corner for too long, dismissing the range of real experiences and beliefs surrounding reproductive care.

These terms fail to address our layered challenges or the genuine care we need. My years of practice have shown me that reproductive justice is about acknowledging each person’s unique reality and honoring their right to make the decisions best for themselves and their families.

Language matters. Moving beyond “pro-choice” and “pro-life” could open the door to conversations where we center empathy, human dignity, and support over rigid ideology.

My goal isn’t to change anyone’s beliefs but to ensure everyone who walks into a clinic finds a system that fully listens to, respects, and cares for them. That’s the future I envision—where we abandon polarizing rhetoric for language that invites nuance, empathy, and compassion for the individual lives behind the labels.

About Dr. DeShawn

About Dr. DeShawn

Dr. DeShawn Taylor, a gynecologist, gender-affirming care provider, and reproductive justice advocate, has over 21 years' experience as an abortion provider, plus longer advocacy in reproductive healthcare. She leads the Desert Star Institute for Family Planning in Phoenix, Arizona, offering direct care, training, and advocacy to improve healthcare access. Dr. Taylor also serves as an associate clinical professor.