Currently, at Emory Decatur Hospital in Decatur, Georgia, 30-year-old Adriana Smith is around 22 weeks pregnant with her second child, being kept alive by ventilators after suffering from multiple blood clots in her brain. In accordance with legal and medical guidance, she will stay like this until doctors can safely deliver her baby at around 32 weeks. Adriana’s family awaits painfully for her soul to pass so that they may begin to grieve properly and are attracting national attention for their comments on the state’s near-total abortion ban and its involvement in keeping Adriana alive. The family has named Adriana’s unborn son Chance. If Chance survives to term, it is likely he’ll be born with a lifelong disability of some sort. Welcoming Chance into their lives—whatever his dependency might look like, and despite the circumstances in which he is born—sounds like a beautiful pro-life message. So why are abortion advocates turning this into a pro-choice story? A quote from Adriana’s mother, April, reads: “We didn’t have a choice or a say about it... we want the baby. That’s a part of my daughter. But the decision should have been left to us—not the state.”

It’s confounding that such life-affirming measures can coexist with dangerous pro-abortion rhetoric and language. Of course, you don’t have to be seeking to procure an abortion for yourself or a loved one to be pro-abortion—“pro-life for me, not for thee” is far from a neutral stance. What we see in this quote from Adriana’s mother is a perfect example of how language can shape our perception of this issue. From using scientific terms as a shield, to using dehumanizing language toward the unborn, to turning pro-life advocates into “anti-choice” fascists, how we speak about controversial topics can make or break the outcome of a conversation or an article. It’s important that the language we use stays rooted in reality.

In abortion debates, we often see people getting tripped up over whether to refer to the unborn baby as just that—a baby—or if it might be more proper to call it an embryo or a fetus in order not to rely on the emotional response of the audience to win an argument. Pro-choicers will demand that the most scientific language possible be used in their debates, which we have to kindly allow, especially considering that both science and language are on the side of pro-life. The embryonic stage is indeed the first stage of our developing life as multicellular organisms, “embryo” deriving from a Greek word meaning “young one” or “that which grows.” This tiny embryo becomes a fetus shortly thereafter, “fetus” meaning "offspring" or “hatching of the young.” Now, while the etymology behind the word “baby,” coming from Middle English, is long and winding and not entirely clear, it’s safe to say in our modern language we use this word to refer to our young ones. Trying to steer the conversation away from using words like “baby” and “infant” is not the gotcha moment that pro-choicers think it is. Embryo, fetus, baby—potato, potahto… it’s all rooted in the reality of human development. To refer to the unborn in common human terms cannot be an anthropomorphizing trick by pro-lifers, because you cannot humanize a human being—it already is one.

Using dehumanizing language to refer to the unborn is the clearest example of how language persuades impressionable young people from one side of the issue to the other—i.e., “clump of cells” and, sometimes, the horrifyingly incorrect “parasite.” An article from Brené Brown comes to mind, in which she references Michelle Maiese, the chair of the philosophy department at Emmanuel College:

“Maiese explains that most of us believe that people’s basic human rights should not be violated—that crimes like murder, rape, and torture are wrong. Successful dehumanizing, however, creates moral exclusion. Groups targeted based on their identity—gender, ideology, skin color, ethnicity, religion, age—are depicted as ‘less than’ or criminal or even evil. The targeted group eventually falls out of the scope of who is naturally protected by our moral code. This is moral exclusion, and dehumanization is at its core.” (Brené Brown)

Let’s start with “clumps of cells.” To liken human beings to non-human entities is dehumanization at its core. We’ve seen this in the likening of Black people to apes or monkeys, or likening Jews in Nazi Germany to rats. Is a fetus technically a clump of cells? Yes—but so are you, and so is an acorn. Using such broad language to refer to an unborn human being waters down that which makes it human, especially when the phrase “clump of cells” can be used in reference to almost anything. We can all agree that people have certain inalienable rights, but when that human person becomes less of a human and more of a thing, it becomes easier to exclude.

This type of dehumanization through language takes an even more dangerous turn when likening a human being to an object of disgust. Native people in America as savages, Jews as vermin rats, the Tutsi minority in the Rwandan genocide as cockroaches—the list goes on. These are not just non-human entities; these objects present as having a negative social value that should be not merely excluded, but disposed of. We see this in the abortion debate when, in an emotionally charged moment, the unborn baby stops being a baby and becomes a “parasite.” This image of a victimized woman becoming a host to a foreign and unwelcome organism that is stealing nutrients from her is as scientifically and linguistically inaccurate as it can get. A parasite cannot, by definition, be the same species as its host, and yet women around the world are being indoctrinated to think of their unborn offspring as such. It’s imperative that we not think of ourselves as above this type of brainwashing. The majority shaping people’s perception using dehumanizing language has led to some of the greatest atrocities in human history.

The most insidious way that language has impacted the abortion debate is summed up in one word: “choice.” Originally coined in 1969, the phrase “pro-choice” became a way to define pro-abortion advocates, and “the right to choose” blew up as their defining sound bite in the 1970s following Roe v. Wade. “Pro-abortion” felt too specific to the issue—too literal. They needed something more nuanced and generally positive that people could get behind—and in America, what’s more paramount than our own personal freedoms? It defines us as a nation, so the idea that the government could be infringing on our rights to make decisions about our bodies feels like the ultimate violation. This is true, and yet in civil society, we agree to infringe on the right to “choose” this or that every day. My choice to commit a crime such as arson, driving while intoxicated, or rape is immediately opposed by the law, and I should be prevented from ever doing these things. The reason for that is that these decisions put other people in harm's way. My choice to do what I want with my body turns sour when it runs up against another person's right to life.

Without the right to life, there is no right to choose. Therefore, painting pro-lifers as anti-choice has been the most twisted attempt by pro-abortion advocates to pull the wool over millions of Americans’ eyes. In the case of Adriana Smith and her son Chance, it’s nothing short of horrifying that the tragedy striking their family is being politicized and marketed to us as some great injustice by the state of Georgia. In reality, the saving of little Chance’s life will be a heroic story for him, his mother, the family members who raise him, and the staff at Emory Decatur Hospital. We must not be deceived by language and lose sight of the fact that his right to life takes precedence, so that he may one day flourish and make autonomous decisions for himself. Our prayers are with Adriana and her family as they navigate such a complex tragedy. May God provide comfort, healing, and rest to them all.