The past few weeks have been politically dominated by President Barack Obama's mandate requiring Catholic institutions to provide workers with access to contraception and pharmacological abortion. The conservative outcry was well-placed, and I agree that the mandate was a gross governmental overstep.
The political and religious battle at the moment of the declaration was well covered, yet another question should be answered: How does contraception affect the fabric of society?
Most of us are so used to the existence of readily available contraception that we cannot imagine a world without it. Like everyone who attended a public school in Florida, I was forced to take a sexual education course at 12 years old, in which I was taught the virtues of sexual prophylactics. It was condescendingly assumed that we would all soon be engaging in wanton sex, so the best thing the school could do was make sure nobody got pregnant.
The underlying assumption in courses such as these is that sex is a recreational activity, which unfortunately can have the negative side effect of pregnancy. Sex is considered by our society a fun thing to do on the weekends with no lingering consequences, thanks to contraception. Whether to bear a child, on the other hand, is considered an educated choice, much like taking out a mortgage on a home or starting a retirement fund.
Before widespread contraception, sex and pregnancy were not separated. Rather, they were one in the same. People got married not because of any 20th-century romantic ideal, but because a couple bearing children was a boon to society.
Pregnancy was once considered a blessing from God — now it is often seen as a curse. When did we, as a culture, begin to perceive ourselves as Nietzschian god-men with the ability to overthrow the laws of nature with a manufactured prophylactic?
These past few paragraphs pose the question: Was the current sexual climate born out of widespread contraception, or did an organic cultural change simply create the demand? The answer is likely a little of both.
However, contraception is still the symbol of our highly sexualized culture, and it's fair to ask if disconnecting sex from pregnancy is healthy for society.
The Western world is suffering a reversal of its family trees. Birth rates have declined immensely in Europe, and are suffering in the U.S. as well. Women in the United Kingdom, Germany, Italy and Greece bear less than two children each on average — a number that leads to a decline in population. The U.S. is barely over the line at 2.06 children per woman.
At first glance, this seems like a harmless proposition. However, the current model of Western government expenditures relies on ever-increasing generations of young people to support those who retire. There is a reason why Social Security is no longer as economically viable as it was when it was founded — people aren't having enough babies. Isn't it ironic that those on the left who so staunchly support contraception and abortion at the same time advertise a system that relies on high birth rates to function?
To reverse this course, the way Western culture perceives sex and pregnancy has to change. Sex should no longer be a recreational activity but rather a meaningful symbol of union between two individuals. Pregnancy should no longer be seen as a curse, but rather a blessing.
One is reminded of the motto of the 1933 Century of Progress World's Fair: "Science finds, Industry applies, Man conforms." I wonder if the workers at the first condom factory knew the society their new product would breed. Even if they didn't, we should still reflect on it.
Luke Bailey is a history junior at UF. His column appears on Wednesdays.
