For many years, the Czar didn’t think much about abortion; pregnancy was not a position he was likely to be in, after all. We certainly knew that a male could have any opinion on it he wanted, but ultimately only a pregnant woman—complete with physical, emotional, and hormonal changes that come with pregnancy—would ever really understand all the ramifications.

Curiously, this is the opinion of many liberals; these folks advocate pro-choice, eschew the government putting its “hands on women,” and that a woman should be in control over her own body. Beyond that, you never want to think past this superficial point. But this, of course, is a crock—there are two other people involved: the father, to some degree, is affected by the decision, but most critically, the baby is affected by the decision unlike no other.

There is an old story about the chicken and the pig, discussing breakfast. The chicken complains that she has to lay an egg every day for the farmer’s breakfast, and that she has no say in this. She would appreciate having some choice in the matter. The pig laughs and says he has the worse end of the deal. “After all, you’re involved,” agrees the pig, “but I’m committed.”

The point of this parable is to remind listeners that the hardest working person in a situation may not be as important as the one most affected. In business, this is a vital lesson. In discussions of abortions, this reality is denied by the Left. The mother may request a choice, but what about the baby?

If you are an American, you likely grew up in a culture that continually pushed for the underdog. As an American, you were told time and again to stick up for the little guy; protect those who cannot help themselves; help the helpless. This theme repeats itself throughout our history, our popular stories, our etiquette, and even our sports—not many folks around the world applaud when an injured member of the opposing team gets up and signals he’s okay, yet fall eerily silent when the injury occurred. Being an American means protecting the ones who need protection.

Turn that idea back to abortion, and you see why so many people have a hard time talking about it. Abortion is the least American thing we do: you can draw a smiley face on it and call it pro-choice, and say it is all about the mother protecting her body (from what, by the way?). But ultimately it is a violent, abhorrent murder against the absolute most defenseless people in our society—the sleeping fetus.

The Czar expresses some satisfaction that a growing number of conservatives and anti-abortion liberals are changing the terminology away from pro-choice, since the term is meaningless when the fetus has no choice. Instead, the terms pro-life and pro-infanticide are gaining currency. This has a powerful psychological effect in the discussion because it kicks away the crutch that this is only about women.

Calling this a pro-infanticide position names it exactly what it is, and makes the superficial thinker realize the reach of the conversation. The Czar suspects that most people who tolerate abortion do so only because they limit their thinking to what they can accept: a medical procedure done to a woman. But get them to realize the impact to the fetus, and you jar their thinking along more responsible lines.

Does it work? Right now, Americans are statistically moving away from abortion: the margin is too slim for our tastes, but currently more Americans reject infanticide than accept it. The shift has begun, and that means there is momentum.

The Czar of Muscovy

Божію Поспѣшествующею Милостію Мы, Дима Грозный Императоръ и Самодержецъ Всероссiйскiй, цѣсарь Московскiй. The Czar was born in the steppes of Russia in 1267, and was cheated out of total control of all Russia upon the death of Boris Mikhailovich, who replaced Alexander Yaroslav Nevsky in 1263. However, in 1283, our Czar was passed over due to a clerical error and the rule of all Russia went to his second cousin Daniil (Даниил Александрович), whom Czar still resents. As a half-hearted apology, the Czar was awarded control over Muscovy, inconveniently located 5,000 miles away just outside Chicago. He now spends his time seething about this and writing about other stuff that bothers him.