How Texas fetal heartbeat bill advances cause

For millions of parents the world over, the image of a tiny heart flickering on an ultrasound screen is the first visible evidence that something extraordinary is happening.

A new body has been created; a new life is already begun.

It’s undeniable.

If seeing is believing, advances in ultrasound technology that enable us to see a human heart flashing or even rhythmically pulsing in the earliest weeks of devel- opment should long ago have settled the question of whether a fetus is a living thing, let alone deserving of recognition and protection.

Alas science, like everything else these days, is easy to manipulate or just plain ignore when it doesn’t satisfy a particular narrative.

That’s why abortion proponents prefer to refer to the beating hearts of unborn children with euphemisms instead.

A procedure that ends “embryonic pulsing” or “fetal pole cardiac activity” sounds a lot less violent than one that stops a beating heart, even if that is exactly what it does.

But that doesn’t render heartbeat bills — proposals that restrict abortions after a heartbeat is recognizable during a sonogram — clever PR stunts. There’s nothing disingenuous about stating the obvious.

Last week, Texas became the latest state to advance heartbeat legislation.

The Senate passed a bill that would restrict abortion after a fetal heartbeat is detected, except for a medical emergency in which the woman’s life is at stake. The proposal would also establish civil liability for abortion providers who violate the law.

The legislation, Senate Bill 8, is similar to laws passed in other states, including Mississippi, Georgia, Ohio and South Carolina. They’ve also all been stymied in court.

The author of Texas’ version, Republican Sen. Bryan Hughes of Tyler, believes his bill is more sound and will withstand a legal challenge.

That may be so, although the odds are not in his favor. Federal courts, even those in Texas, frequently find conflict with existing abortion jurisprudence.

While I’m certain that Hughes and his co-authors want their bill to be enacted and upheld, I’m guessing that isn’t their entire goal.

The real pro-life victory being sought by this type of legislation isn’t always the obvious one.

Aside from their stated purposes, fetal heartbeat bills do two other important things.

First, they remind us of a fetus’ humanity.

As abortion proponents clearly understand, given their frequent circumlocution around abortion, the language used in these debates matters.

Reminding, or in some cases informing, the public that a child’s heartbeat begins and can be detected as early as six weeks, can be a powerful tool in the effort to influence public opinion.

Until you have the opportunity to see a tiny beating heart during a routine sonogram, repeating the truth that a fetus does, indeed, have a beating heart is its own kind of public service announcement.

But ending abortion has always been a multi-front endeavor. Public opinion matters immensely, but so do the courts, and heartbeat bills are potential vehicles to successfully challenge Roe v. Wade.

While the U.S. Supreme Court has returned many disappointing decisions for pro-lifers over the years, even ideologically liberal jurists and those who support abortion rights have criticized Roe as a hopelessly flawed decision that’s vulnerable to undoing.

The current makeup of the Supreme Court offers, for the first time in a generation, the possibility that well-constructed legislation could provide the vehicle to undo the 50 years of abortion jurisprudence.

Could the Texas bill be that vehicle? It wouldn’t be out of the question. After all Roe v. Wade was a Texas case, too.

It’s worth wondering if the court knew 50 years ago that we could see a baby’s heartbeat at just six weeks’ gestation, would it have ruled as it did?

And it’s worth trying to change that ruling given what we know now.