The C is for Crank
Komen's Choice
(Headline stolen blatantly from Jill LePore's New Yorker post
on Komen's decision.)
The Susan G. Komen Foundation---as you may have heard ---backed down this morning on its decision to pull funding from Planned Parenthood on the basis of a new rule, apparently aimed at Planned Parenthood, barring it from providing funds to organizations that are under Congressional investigation. (Florida Republican Chris Stearns launched a politically motivated investigation into Planned Parenthood, ostensibly aimed at determining whether the group was violating federal law prohibiting the use of federal funds to pay for abortions, last fall).
The two biggest reasons for Komen's unbelievably swift transition from sternly defending its decision to defund Planned Parenthood to vowing to change its policy: Swift and massive online mobilization, and loud, forceful opposition from elected officials, including Washington State Sens. Patty Murray and Maria Cantwell.
The influence of that the 25 senators who signed a letter opposing Komen's decision is obvious: Groups that get federal funds would do well not to piss off powerful players in the Capitol---like, say, US Senators. But it was the power and fury of the online response---thousands of angry letters to Komen leaders and congresspeople, comments on Komen's Facebook and Youtube pages, online donations and declarations of support to Planned Parenthood---that caught me by surprise.
As I mentioned on KUOW's "Weekday" this morning, I was stunned---I can't overstate this---to wake up Thursday morning and see the Komen story on the front page of the Seattle Times. Because I honestly believed that no one would really care---that Komen's decision would cause a brief flare-up among women's rights groups, feminists, and pro-choicers, and be yesterday's news within a day or two. (See: The advance of the "personhood" movement, which would define clumps of cells as humans, throughout the country; the fact that the unemployment crisis has hit women hardest; the growing wage gap between women and men; and the debate over whether Julian Assange should be exempt from prosecution for rape because he's a hero to civil libertarians around the world.
The fact that the issue didn't go away is a testament not only to the American public's support for women's health care, but also the ability of a group like Planned Parenthood to rally supporters, from its base and beyond, to email their congressperson, leave a comment on Facebook, and tweet angrily about the decision.
Why Planned Parenthood Won
Planned Parenthood hasn't always been so successful at rallying the troops; I'll get to that in a minute. But here are a couple of theories about why people were so outraged by Komen's decision to defund the nation's largest reproductive rights organization. First, breast cancer impacts women of all types---it doesn't discriminate between conservative women, liberal women, or women who are pro-life or pro-choice women. One in seven US women will get breast cancer in her lifetime; statistically, you're going to either be or know someone who has the disease.
Similarly, a huge number of women---one in five---use or have used Planned Parenthood's services (I count myself among them). You or someone you know has been to Planned Parenthood, usually for a service other than abortion (which makes up just 3 percent of what Planned Parenthood does). To an old, white, male Republican in Congress, Planned Parenthood may look like an abortion factory. To most women, it looks like routine, preventative health care.
But What About Plan B?
Which brings me to the other reproductive rights issue in the news this week: The upcoming ruling about whether religious pharmacists can refuse to fill prescriptions for Plan B because they believe the pill, which prevents pregnancy within 72 hours of unprotected sex, kills babies. Unlike the Komen decision, the Plan B ruling has gotten little mainstream press (for Josh's somewhat obsessive coverage, start here), for one fairly high-profile AP story that quotes the judge in the case saying he has no right to tell other people (the pharmacists) that a fertilized egg isn't a full human being.
Although the Plan B debate involves a court case, not a decision by a private organization, I can't help thinking that more public pressure---letters to congresspeople and the governor, Facebook and Twitter campaigns refuting the argument that pharmacists should be allowed to refuse legally prescribed medications at will---would have raised awareness about the issue, and possibly caused the judge to think twice before making statements like the following:
“The question of life and death is serious. It’s not facial hair, it’s not a burka. … I do not know when life begins, but I will not denigrate somebody’s view of when life begins.”
Maybe the reason that the story hasn't gotten more press is that fighting for Plan B requires acknowledging that women and teenage girls are sexually active---a controversial thing to do in the current political climate.
What's Next for Komen
Will heads roll at the Komen Foundation? Is the whole "reversal" really just a PR stunt to cover Komen's plans to cut Planned Parenthood funding next year? I have no idea. I do know that, for one of the most beloved brands in the world (the pink ribbon is stamped on everything from Campbell's soup to Teddy bears to Yoplait yogurt), this debacle marks a huge PR setback. And a huge boon for Planned Parenthood: In the past three days, the group has raised more than $3 million, including $250,000 from New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg.
And whatever ultimately becomes of Komen's funding (about $780,000, a fraction of the funding it provides for other organizations---like, say Penn State), the group's public shaming remains a victory for women, because it affirms that women are people, not collections of body parts for conservatives and liberals to bicker over.
Which brings me back to Jill LaPore's piece, which brilliantly articulates the current state of US political discourse over women's rights:
I hate to think of Congress slicing up my body---agreeing to fund disease in this part, but refusing to prevent pregnancy in that one---but, on reflection, LePore's metaphor is sadly apt. Republicans happily fund care for the "acceptable" parts of women---breasts are good, reproductive organs are bad---and Democrats are left to defend the rest of us. Meanwhile, men's health care faces no such division. The result is a system of care that is both separate and unequal.
The Susan G. Komen Foundation---as you may have heard ---backed down this morning on its decision to pull funding from Planned Parenthood on the basis of a new rule, apparently aimed at Planned Parenthood, barring it from providing funds to organizations that are under Congressional investigation. (Florida Republican Chris Stearns launched a politically motivated investigation into Planned Parenthood, ostensibly aimed at determining whether the group was violating federal law prohibiting the use of federal funds to pay for abortions, last fall).
The two biggest reasons for Komen's unbelievably swift transition from sternly defending its decision to defund Planned Parenthood to vowing to change its policy: Swift and massive online mobilization, and loud, forceful opposition from elected officials, including Washington State Sens. Patty Murray and Maria Cantwell.
The influence of that the 25 senators who signed a letter opposing Komen's decision is obvious: Groups that get federal funds would do well not to piss off powerful players in the Capitol---like, say, US Senators. But it was the power and fury of the online response---thousands of angry letters to Komen leaders and congresspeople, comments on Komen's Facebook and Youtube pages, online donations and declarations of support to Planned Parenthood---that caught me by surprise.
As I mentioned on KUOW's "Weekday" this morning, I was stunned---I can't overstate this---to wake up Thursday morning and see the Komen story on the front page of the Seattle Times. Because I honestly believed that no one would really care---that Komen's decision would cause a brief flare-up among women's rights groups, feminists, and pro-choicers, and be yesterday's news within a day or two. (See: The advance of the "personhood" movement, which would define clumps of cells as humans, throughout the country; the fact that the unemployment crisis has hit women hardest; the growing wage gap between women and men; and the debate over whether Julian Assange should be exempt from prosecution for rape because he's a hero to civil libertarians around the world.
The fact that the issue didn't go away is a testament not only to the American public's support for women's health care, but also the ability of a group like Planned Parenthood to rally supporters, from its base and beyond, to email their congressperson, leave a comment on Facebook, and tweet angrily about the decision.
Why Planned Parenthood Won
Planned Parenthood hasn't always been so successful at rallying the troops; I'll get to that in a minute. But here are a couple of theories about why people were so outraged by Komen's decision to defund the nation's largest reproductive rights organization. First, breast cancer impacts women of all types---it doesn't discriminate between conservative women, liberal women, or women who are pro-life or pro-choice women. One in seven US women will get breast cancer in her lifetime; statistically, you're going to either be or know someone who has the disease.
Similarly, a huge number of women---one in five---use or have used Planned Parenthood's services (I count myself among them). You or someone you know has been to Planned Parenthood, usually for a service other than abortion (which makes up just 3 percent of what Planned Parenthood does). To an old, white, male Republican in Congress, Planned Parenthood may look like an abortion factory. To most women, it looks like routine, preventative health care.
But What About Plan B?
Which brings me to the other reproductive rights issue in the news this week: The upcoming ruling about whether religious pharmacists can refuse to fill prescriptions for Plan B because they believe the pill, which prevents pregnancy within 72 hours of unprotected sex, kills babies. Unlike the Komen decision, the Plan B ruling has gotten little mainstream press (for Josh's somewhat obsessive coverage, start here), for one fairly high-profile AP story that quotes the judge in the case saying he has no right to tell other people (the pharmacists) that a fertilized egg isn't a full human being.
Although the Plan B debate involves a court case, not a decision by a private organization, I can't help thinking that more public pressure---letters to congresspeople and the governor, Facebook and Twitter campaigns refuting the argument that pharmacists should be allowed to refuse legally prescribed medications at will---would have raised awareness about the issue, and possibly caused the judge to think twice before making statements like the following:
“The question of life and death is serious. It’s not facial hair, it’s not a burka. … I do not know when life begins, but I will not denigrate somebody’s view of when life begins.”
Maybe the reason that the story hasn't gotten more press is that fighting for Plan B requires acknowledging that women and teenage girls are sexually active---a controversial thing to do in the current political climate.
What's Next for Komen
Will heads roll at the Komen Foundation? Is the whole "reversal" really just a PR stunt to cover Komen's plans to cut Planned Parenthood funding next year? I have no idea. I do know that, for one of the most beloved brands in the world (the pink ribbon is stamped on everything from Campbell's soup to Teddy bears to Yoplait yogurt), this debacle marks a huge PR setback. And a huge boon for Planned Parenthood: In the past three days, the group has raised more than $3 million, including $250,000 from New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg.
And whatever ultimately becomes of Komen's funding (about $780,000, a fraction of the funding it provides for other organizations---like, say Penn State), the group's public shaming remains a victory for women, because it affirms that women are people, not collections of body parts for conservatives and liberals to bicker over.
Which brings me back to Jill LaPore's piece, which brilliantly articulates the current state of US political discourse over women's rights:
In American politics, women’s bodies are not bodies, but parts. People like to talk about some parts more than others. Embryos and fetuses are the most charged subject in American political discourse. Saying the word “cervix” was the beginning of Rick Perry’s end. In politics, breasts are easier to talk about. I first understood this a few years ago, when I was offered, at an otherwise very ordinary restaurant, a cupcake frosted to look like a breast, with a nipple made of piped pink icing. It was called a “breast-cancer cupcake,” and proceeds went to the Race for the Cure.
The women’s-health movement, which began in the nineteen-seventies, tried to explain that women’s bodies are not parts, but bodies, and that health care for women must, at a minimum, meet the standards of health care for men. This week’s dissolution of a bond between the nation’s largest funder of breast-cancer research and one of the largest providers of women’s health services suggests just how dismally that effort has failed.
By now, this is, obscenely, a story about partisan divisions, as if some parts of women’s bodies are Democratic and other parts are Republican.
I hate to think of Congress slicing up my body---agreeing to fund disease in this part, but refusing to prevent pregnancy in that one---but, on reflection, LePore's metaphor is sadly apt. Republicans happily fund care for the "acceptable" parts of women---breasts are good, reproductive organs are bad---and Democrats are left to defend the rest of us. Meanwhile, men's health care faces no such division. The result is a system of care that is both separate and unequal.
