Is Pregnancy Really a Good Samaritan Act?

Abstract

One of the most influential philosophical arguments in favor of the permissibility of abortion is Judith Jarvis Thomson’s violinist analogy, presented in “A Defense of Abortion.” Its appeal for prochoice advocates lies in Thomson’s granting that the fetus is a person with equivalent moral status to any other human being, and yet demonstrating—to those who accept her reasoning—that abortion is still permissible. In her argument, Thomson draws heavily on the parable of the Good Samaritan, arguing that gestating a fetus in some circumstances is what she calls a Good Samaritan act, and claiming that we are not morally required to be Good Samaritans. Here, I argue that Thomson has subverted the parable to justify an action that is the antithesis of its meaning. I contend that Christians are required to be Good Samaritans, and explain that for Christians, this entails that abortion is impermissible in all circumstances. Furthermore, I argue that the parable shows that the fetus is our neighbor in need of our mercy and assistance, and consequently, Christians should be actively involved in helping to ensure the unborn are protected, whether they are fetuses in danger of induced abortion or miscarriage, or surplus frozen embryos.

I. Introduction

One of the most influential philosophical arguments in favor of the permissibility of abortion is Judith Jarvis Thomson’s violinist analogy, presented in “A Defense of Abortion” (1971). Its appeal for prochoice advocates lies in Thomson’s granting that the fetus is a person with equivalent moral status to any other human being, and yet demonstrating—to those who accept her reasoning—that in at least some circumstances, abortion is still permissible. In her argument, Thomson draws heavily on the parable of the Good Samaritan, distinguishing between two kinds of Samaritan: the Good Samaritan and the Minimally Decent Samaritan. According to Thomson, if a pregnancy is unexpected and reasonable precautions taken against becoming pregnant, or the pregnancy is the result of rape, carrying the child to term is a Good Samaritan act.

Thomson argues that we are not morally required to perform Good Samaritan acts, imagining a scenario where you wake up to find a famous unconscious violinist with a fatal kidney condition connected to your body. The Society of Music Lovers has found that doing so is the only means of saving the violinist, who must remain plugged into your body for nine months. Unplugging the violinist will kill him. Thomson considers that most people would find such a situation outrageous and would agree that the violinist has no right to the use of your body for life support. She then draws an analogy with pregnancy, arguing that in a similar way, the fetus has no right to life support from its mother, concluding that in certain situations, abortion is permissible as the only means of disconnecting the fetus.

Here, I examine Thomson’s use of the Good Samaritan parable and argue that she has used it to justify an act that is the antithesis of what the parable teaches. I agree that in a limited number of cases, gestating a fetus to term is indeed a Good Samaritan act; however, I argue that Christians are required to be Good Samaritans, and consequently, abortion is impermissible in all circumstances for Christians. Furthermore, I argue that the parable shows that the fetus is our neighbor in need of our mercy and assistance, and consequently, Christians should be actively involved in helping to ensure that the unborn are protected.

II. THE PARABLE OF THE GOOD SAMARITAN

One of the best-known Biblical parables, the parable of the Good Samaritan is related in the gospel of Luke. It has been an immensely influential story that is deeply embedded in Western culture. It is common for laws that protect rescuers who assist those in need of aid from subsequent legal action to be called “Good Samaritan” laws (Stewart, Agin, and Douglas, 2013). Philosopher Charles Taylor describes the parable as “one of the original building blocks out of which our modern universalist moral consciousness has been built” (2007, 738), while Gerald Arbuckle describes the parable as “the ultimate founding myth of healthcare” (2012, 76). It is worth citing the entire parable here for reference (Luke 10:25–37, ESV).

And behold, a lawyer stood up to put him to the test, saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the Law? How do you read it?” And he answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live.” But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. He went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him. And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.’ Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus said to him, “You go, and do likewise.

III. THE MEANING OF THE PARABLE

Traditionally, the parable of the Good Samaritan has been interpreted on two different levels. The first is an ethical lesson for followers of Jesus. J. I. H. McDonald (1996) notes that an earlier example of a story used for such a purpose is Nathan’s parable regarding the rich man with many ewes who steals a poor man’s only lamb (2 Sam. 12:1–4). Nathan relates the parable to King David, and by condemning the behavior of the rich man, David condemns his own murder of Uriah the Hittite, which he arranged to prevent Uriah discovering that David had committed adultery with Bathsheba, Uriah’s wife. Nathan’s parable prompted remorse and repentance in David, and the Good Samaritan similarly invites us to judge our own actions toward others, establishing a baseline for whom we are to show mercy toward if we are to receive mercy from God. That baseline is those who are in need, irrespective of race, religion, or social group.

The second reading is allegorical and has a long history in the church. Riemer Roukema explains that Clement of Alexandria identifies Jesus as the Samaritan, and mankind as the wounded man, as does Irenaeus and Origen (2004, 58–63). Later, Augustine continues developing this theme, considering the injured man to be Adam, and the descent from Jerusalem to Jericho represents the loss of our immortality. The priest and Levite signify the impotence of Old Testament law for salvation, the thieves are Satan, while again the Samaritan is Jesus, who conveys us to the safety of the inn—the church. Patrick M. Clark acknowledges that the allegorical reading has been the dominant tradition, but believes that this does not “neutralize its ethical power,” but rather enhances it by becoming “an image of what has already happened to us” (2014, 301, 308). According to Clark, God’s actions in becoming a neighbor to us to overcome our own alienation from God “leaves us with no possible excuse for continuing to accept and perpetuate our own alienation from others” (2014, 308–9). The ethical imperative to show mercy to all in need is because we ourselves have been shown mercy by God when we were helpless. Importantly, Roukema notes that both Clement and Origen do not neglect the ethical implications of the parable (2004, 60–3).

So, the ethical implications for Christians of this parable are clear—we are required to provide mercy and aid to those who are in need of it. The allegorical interpretation explains the underlying reason why we should do so.

IV. WHAT IS A GOOD SAMARITAN ACT?

Given the ethical implications of the parable, we can follow in Thomson’s footsteps to derive the characteristics of what she calls a Good Samaritan act.

The parable is Jesus’ response to a Jewish lawyer who understood the Mosaic law sufficiently well that he could accurately summarize it as loving God and loving his neighbor—but who desired clarification on who his neighbor is. There are four characters in the parable: the priest, the Levite, the injured traveler, and the Samaritan. According to Jonathan Stökl (2019), priests were still religious leaders in the first century, responsible for the Jewish temple service, while Levites also worked in the temple in more subordinate roles. We are not told who the injured traveler was—presumably, he was an ordinary Jew.

John 4:9 informs us that “Jews have no dealings with Samaritans,” and enmity between Samaritans and Jews had a long history. Reinhard Pummer explains that the Samaritans believed themselves to be the original Israelites, while the Jews regarded Samaritans as “a mixed people whose religion was contaminated when the Assyrians settled foreigners in the former kingdom of Israel in the eighth century B.C.E.” (2015, 20–2), as described in 2 Kings 17. The Samaritans built their own temple at Mt. Gerizim, rejecting the Jewish temple on Mt Zion, and according to Pummer, “most scholars believe that the last straw which brought about the division was the destruction of the Gerizim temple by John Hyrcanus,” who was a Jewish high priest (2015, 114). Emmanuel Friedheim notes that relations “steadily worsened, becoming ever more complicated, throughout the Second Temple period” (Friedheim, 2010, 193). Josephus was also famously hostile toward the Samaritans (Horbury, Davies, and Sturdy, 1999, 574).

We can surmise, then, that a Good Samaritan act is not a generous act toward one’s family, friends, work colleagues, or even strangers—it is an act that benefits or even saves the life of someone your culture despises as an enemy. Moreover, a Good Samaritan act is not just defined by its target—it is an act that is also personally costly with respect to time and financial resources. The Good Samaritan, we are told, cared for his enemy’s wounds using his own oil and bindings and used his own animal to take him to an inn, which could well have been some distance away. We are also told he provided two denarii, or two days’ wages, as a deposit to the innkeeper for the injured man’s care, and he was prepared for additional costs. As the injured man is described as “half dead,” this could well have been a long-term commitment.

Finally, it seems that the Samaritan was willing to risk his own life to assist the injured enemy. He was forced to linger in an area notorious for robbery where someone had recently been robbed and viciously beaten. It is important to note that the priest and the Levite were obligated to assist, and they failed to meet their obligations. Ronald L. Eisenberg explains that the rabbinic principle of pikuach nefesh instructs Jews that preserving human life takes precedence over almost everything else (2000, 548). Michael N. Rader clarifies that this obligation is not negated by the threat of danger to the rescuer (2001, 377–8). Lest it be argued that they may have thought the man was dead and feared ritual contamination, Hyam MacCoby notes that even the high priest had a duty to bury an abandoned corpse (1988, 104–5). According to Aaron Kirschenbaum (1980, 205), the duty to assist had its origins in Leviticus 19:16 (“neither shalt thou stand idly by the blood of thy neighbor”). It was codified in the Talmud, which was not canon for Samaritans (Zsengellér, 1998, 161), and so it is doubtful the Samaritan of the parable was under the same obligation as the priest and the Levite.

We can therefore define a Good Samaritan act as one that is extraordinary and self-sacrificial, going beyond one’s obligations. It involves helping someone you may despise or who despises you, it requires your time and resources, and potentially might cost your life. As Thomson suggests, only a Good Samaritan would assume responsibility for her violinist being plugged into his body for nine months.

V. ARE CHRISTIANS OBLIGED TO PERFORM GOOD SAMARITAN ACTS?

In discussing the meaning of the parable, I conclude that it teaches that Christians are required to provide aid to those who are in need—and that this is regardless of personal inconvenience and even personal danger. If we acknowledge the Bible as having normative force in Christian ethics, it seems difficult to escape the implication that Christians are obliged to perform Good Samaritan acts to those around us, particularly given the direct exhortation by Jesus to “go and do likewise” (Luke 10:37, ESV).

Thomson, however, subverts the parable, arguing that Good Samaritan acts are supererogatory—the opposite conclusion to the accepted teaching of the parable throughout church history. Moreover, she appropriates the parable in an egregious manner to justify not only declining to provide aid, but permitting a woman to terminate the life of her fetus—an act prohibited even in very early Christian writings (Gray, 2001). This seems to be the antithesis of the parable’s message.

Of course, even if Thomson can establish that in some circumstances, pregnancy is a Good Samaritan act, this is not a significant conclusion for Christians, given our obligation to perform Good Samaritan acts. In fact, this obligation entails that with regard to Thomson’s analogy, Christians in such a situation (contrived though it is) would be morally obliged to sustain the unconscious violinist for nine months, despite the considerable inconvenience this would incur. In the context of Christian ethics, this conclusion radically undermines Thomson’s reasoning. Nonetheless, given the widespread influence of her work even decades later, it is still a worthwhile exercise to consider under what circumstances pregnancy can be regarded as a Good Samaritan act, and when it may rather be what Thomson calls a Minimally Decent Samaritan act.

VI. IS PREGNANCY A GOOD SAMARITAN ACT?

Donald Regan (1979) has famously argued that the burdens of pregnancy are such that all unwanted pregnancies are Good Samaritan acts. Writing in a legal context, he also notes that it is an established principle of American law that people are not required to be Good Samaritans, which he believes entails state criminalization of abortion and violates the Fourteenth Amendment’s equal protection clause. Eileen McDonagh argues similarly, describing women as “captive Samaritans” if they are not permitted to terminate unwanted pregnancies (1996, 183). Thomson, however, does not regard all pregnancies as Good Samaritan acts. She implies that if parents have not taken reasonable precautions against pregnancy, then they have assumed responsibility for the child, and carrying it to term is a Minimally Decent Samaritan act rather than a Good Samaritan act. She also suggests that if several months are left in a pregnancy and the mother wishes to abort for fairly trivial reasons, for example in order to facilitate a trip abroad, continuing with the pregnancy is morally required.

Let us examine two scenarios in which Thomson does think continuing with the pregnancy is a Good Samaritan act—where a pregnancy occurred despite responsible use of contraception, and the case of rape. We can add a third scenario which Thomson did not consider—where the fetus has been reliably diagnosed in utero as suffering a defect such as Down syndrome or some other life-limiting condition.

The first scenario is least likely to qualify as a Good Samaritan act: if sex was consensual, then pregnancy was a foreseeable outcome, even if steps were taken to prevent it. As a defense against Thomson’s argument, this is known as the responsibility objection, and it is contentious. We need not enter into that debate here—after all, the injured Jew in the parable did not consent to being attacked merely because he chose a route that was potentially dangerous. We are not defending against Thomson, however: our question is whether continuing with pregnancy under these circumstances is a Good Samaritan act. Even though any pregnancy involves considerable physical risk and financial costs, it is not clear that this is so. The parable of the Good Samaritan endures because the Samaritan performed an extraordinary act of self-sacrifice. Continuing with an unexpected pregnancy does not qualify as extraordinary—it is something that millions of women do every year and is unremarkable. A parable of the Unexpectedly Pregnant Samaritan would not be compelling. The standard of a Good Samaritan act is higher, despite the considerable sacrifices involved in pregnancy.

A much more difficult scenario involves being informed that your pregnancy is not proceeding normally and that the baby is severely disabled or has a condition such as Down syndrome. While the pregnancy itself may continue as before, the mental anguish of raising a disabled child is now present. Apart from dashed hopes for their child’s future, enormous sacrifices will be required for many years. For many prospective parents, an abortion provides an easy solution. This scenario is a modern problem—it is a dilemma created by the easy availability of abortion and the medical technology that allows disabilities to be diagnosed in utero (although in the ancient world, exposing an infant to die would be equivalent). As a result, continuing with such a pregnancy does seem to be an extremely significant sacrifice, although it is not uncommon. According to a review of termination rates in the United States for prenatal diagnosis of Down syndrome, 67%–85% of parents choose to end the pregnancy (Natoli et al., 2012). These figures are likely to overestimate the likelihood of parents willing to abort a pregnancy where Down syndrome is indicated, as parents who would not consider termination may choose to avoid such tests. This implies that continuing a pregnancy with a diagnosis of Down syndrome does not qualify as extraordinary in terms of rarity, but I believe most people would concede it does require extraordinary courage and self-sacrifice, especially when abortion is offered as an alternative.

Pregnancy because of rape is very different to pregnancy from consensual sex. The victim has no responsibility for the pregnancy, she has suffered violence and is faced with carrying and possibly raising the child of the man who assaulted her. The child could potentially be seen by her as an enemy or perhaps a constant reminder of an enemy. There is also the potential for custody battles with the rapist. Continuing with pregnancy is clearly an enormous sacrifice, given that an early abortion provides a relatively straightforward path to avoiding such a sacrifice. I think it is a fair assessment that in these circumstances, continuing with the pregnancy is a Good Samaritan act, even though, as with disabled children, this course of action is not particularly rare. Again, it certainly is not the expected course of action.

Kate Greasley makes a final important point with regard to Thomson’s reasoning: even if all pregnancies are Good Samaritan acts, in the vast majority of cases abortion is not only a failure to offer aid, but a positive act of killing—procuring an abortion involves far more than merely declining to be a Good Samaritan offering “gestational services” (2017, 57). In effect, Greasley is saying that gestation is unique in that it cannot easily be withdrawn without deliberate killing.

VII. IS ABORTION PERMISSIBLE FOR CHRISTIANS?

We have classified the continuation of most pregnancies as not being Good Samaritan acts, with the exception of rape and severe disability. What implications does this have for Christian obligations regarding abortion? We have noted that the parable of the Good Samaritan establishes an ethical imperative for those calling themselves disciples of Jesus toward those in need. We are required to show mercy, even if a Good Samaritan act is necessary to do so. In effect, it extends to Christians the Jewish obligation to save.

Accordingly, if we accept the working assumption of Thomson’s argument that the fetus is a person with full moral status, then the fetus is its mother’s neighbor—her closest neighbor. Even if we grant Thomson’s assertion that a biological relationship entails no special responsibilities—a dubious claim I do not examine further here—the requirement to show mercy to those in need seems clear. Pregnancy is unique in that no one else is in a position to show mercy to the unborn in the manner that a pregnant woman is able to. Accordingly, we have little choice but to regard abortion as being impermissible in all circumstances—even those pregnancies that require a Good Samaritan act to continue them. The allegorical interpretation of the parable only strengthens this implication—Jesus, as the Samaritan, went so far as to sacrifice his own life to show us mercy—and like a pregnant woman, he was (and is) uniquely equipped to do so.

Greasley’s point regarding abortion generally being a positive act of killing is a further reason to take this position. If as Christians we take seriously Biblical admonitions regarding killing, deliberately ending the life of an innocent human being in this way is also impermissible.

There is a possible escape route—denying what Thomson grants for the purposes of argument—that the fetus is a person with full moral status. Of course, for Christians, this stance must be reconciled with Biblical passages such as Psalm 139, which describes God’s intimate involvement in forming the fetus. Few Christian philosophers take this view, and I do not examine the details of the personhood debate here. One consideration for Christians, however, must be the attitude of the lawyer in the parable, who we are told was “desiring to justify himself” in asking who his neighbor actually was. In effect, he was trying to define the boundaries of neighborliness to restrict his obligations. To question whether the fetus qualifies as a person and is consequently its mother’s neighbor seems analogous, and to deny this when she is uniquely equipped to show it mercy seems to be the antithesis of the parable’s message.

VII. THE FETUS AS OUR NEIGHBOR

We have examined pregnancy in the context of the parable of the Good Samaritan, prompted by Thomson’s violinist argument, and concluded that the fetus is its mother’s neighbor, entailing that abortion is not permissible for Christians.

An important corollary is that for those who are not pregnant, the fetus is still our neighbor. Accordingly, the parable entails we have obligations toward fetuses in danger of abortion—like the injured Jew, our mercy and aid are required, and it may require considerable sacrifices. Unlike in the parable, the course of action is not as clear—we may be in a position to offer explicit help to a pregnant woman considering an abortion, but if not, there are many other alternatives that can serve to show mercy to the unborn: we could become involved in prolife groups or activism against abortion clinics, and we can dedicate financial resources toward opposing the liberalization of abortion laws.

Of course, if we take the view that the fetus is not a person, as has already been discussed, these obligations are weaker or non-existent, depending on the moral value that is assigned to them. Ted Peters, Karen Lebacqz, and Gaymon Bennett explicitly reference the Good Samaritan in their discussion of stem cell research (2008, 236–37). They interpret the parable as a call to beneficence in regenerative medicine, one that trumps concerns regarding what they believe to be the “questionable metaphysical assumptions regarding ex vivo blastocysts” (2008, 238). Here, actual and future people who might benefit from such research are the neighbors in need—but this is predicated on embryos not possessing full moral status. Bertha Alvarez Manninen also uses the parable of the Good Samaritan to argue for the use of surplus frozen embryos in stem cell research. Given they face almost certain destruction, Manninen believes that “using them for stem cell research allows them to become neighbours and Good Samaritans to the rest of us” (2007). Firstly, forcing embryos to become Good Samaritans at the cost of their lives seems untenable—surely this must be a course of action that is chosen, and embryos cannot do so. Moreover, if frozen embryos do have the moral status of persons, this constitutes a failure to be a neighbor to frozen embryos. Treating frozen embryos as neighbors requires securing them a life like ours through adoption and gestation, and as well as opposing abortion, Christians must work toward this goal for the vast numbers of frozen embryos that would otherwise be discarded. An important part of this strategy is likely working to reduce the supply of frozen embryos, perhaps through lobbying for legislation to require that fertilized embryos be implanted.

A less-frequently discussed matter is that of spontaneous abortion, more commonly known as miscarriage. Critics (e.g., Ord, 2008; Berg, 2017; Simkulet, 2017) have argued that on the view that embryos and fetuses have the moral status of persons—which I am endorsing here—high rates of spontaneous abortion exceeding 60% of pregnancies means many millions of valuable human lives are lost each year. They claim that such a view entails that proponents should dedicate their resources toward reducing spontaneous abortions rather than induced abortions. Daniel Rodger and I have recently responded (2019), concluding that induced abortion is the primary cause of preventable prenatal death, which means efforts opposing it are justified, but concede that if we regard all human life as equally valuable, we have at least some obligation toward helping reduce deaths from spontaneous abortion where possible. The parable of the Good Samaritan reinforces the notion that Christians do have some responsibility toward this neglected group of human beings, who are also our neighbors.

IX. CONCLUSION

According to Judith Jarvis Thomson, a Good Samaritan act is a supererogatory act—there is no moral obligation involved. Thomson believes carrying a pregnancy to term is a Good Samaritan act in certain circumstances, such as when the parents have actively sought to avoid pregnancy through contraception or cases of rape. Although I agree with Thomson that gestating a fetus should be considered a Good Samaritan act in cases of rape and severe fetal disability, her use of the parable of the Good Samaritan to argue for the permissibility of abortion egregiously subverts its meaning. For Christians, a Good Samaritan act is not supererogatory—it is a moral obligation—and because the fetus is a pregnant woman’s closest and most intimate neighbor, this entails that abortion is impermissible in all circumstances.

Finally, I argue that each fetus is every Christian’s neighbor, and this entails that Christians must be involved in efforts to assist pregnant women and oppose abortion. A corollary is that we must also not abandon surplus frozen embryos and the millions of human beings who are spontaneously aborted annually.

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