“Well, isn’t she immoral for bringing that baby with Down syndrome into the world?” my friend barked angrily at me. “You’re the ethicist,” she smirked, making me feel as if I’d gotten Sarah Palin pregnant with her fifth child.

“This is an issue of choice and that’s the only issue covered in the moral realm here,” I said.

“Nonsense,” she countered. “She knew she was at an at-risk age, and she brought someone in the world who is at risk for all kinds of biological and medical problems. That child is not going to have a normal life. It’s going to be painful and it’s her fault.”

I said I needed to think through the issue some more. Moral judgment was a serious affair because it involved, among other things, the assignment of blame and responsibility.

My friend wouldn’t give me any more reasons for her position. So I took up the threads she left me with and followed them. It is possible that my friend feels deep empathy for children with Down syndrome and that this empathy informs her judgment about whether a woman who knows she’s at an “at-risk” age ought to get pregnant. You don’t actively bring a sick child into the world where he will suffer from social stigma and disadvantage, she probably reasons. To engage in the process of putting your “at-risk” status into action is narcissistically to put your own needs, values and beliefs before the welfare of a child.

The second concern my friend might have has to do with the issue of autonomy. Most of us go on to lead autonomous, self-governing lives. We are weaned from our parents and we cull independent lives infused with our values and principles. Independence, therefore, is an organic consequence of maturity, and it is one that we treasure. Our capacity for happiness and for leading the good life depends on autonomy and independence. A Down syndrome child would never enjoy this luxury. She would be dependent on her parents for the rest of her life. She would never know the thrill of enjoying the fruits of her own mind.

But, I reasoned to myself, this argument presupposes that autonomy is an overriding value that supersedes all others, including privacy for women. It overlooks the fact that dignity and the intrinsic moral value that all life has is still left intact even when autonomy is compromised. I thought immediately of my late grandmother who was paralyzed from the neck down as the result of a stroke. She was completely dependent on my mother and other family members for the fulfillment of her basic needs. Yet she watched television and laughed, communicated with her eyes and enjoyed a life of meaning for the five years she was in such a state.

I called my friend a few days later and laid out my arguments. The rejoinder was instantaneous.

“You didn’t do anything to deliberately compromise your grandmother’s life. Sarah Palin did just that,” she said. “She deliberately willed harm by acting irresponsibly.”

“Acting irresponsibly towards whom?” I asked.

“Towards the baby,” she responded.

“ Listen,” I said, “Your position implies that her immoral action was directed at an entity, a person. But it wasn’t. You can’t will an immoral or evil intention towards a non-entity. At the time she made the decision—if she actually made a decision—the infant did not exist.”

The conversation deteriorated and I knew I would not make any progress. So, here’s what I think. I am a liberal Democrat; therefore, I do not endorse Palin or her politics. But that’s irrelevant because this is an issue that concerns all women who decide to get pregnant at—in my friend’s words—an “at-risk” age. It is an issue that concerns fathers also. Why is it that men are absolved from moral culpability? Or is it the case that men are secondary players in the reproductive process and, therefore, are immune from the ethical slaps women are given?

Judging that a Down syndrome child cannot lead a meaningful life, or will lead a deeply compromised life, is problematic. That view overlooks empirical evidence to the contrary. It also displays a paucity of imagination. We discount the magic, the wonder of life itself, and the myriad capabilities that inform the human condition in general. We overlook the creativity exercised by mentally handicapped people in creating a life that is theirs and that is meaningful.

It is a form of immense hubris to speak on behalf of children with Down syndrome when we assume their lives will be like living hell here on earth. We cheapen the life of a Down syndrome child by turning him or her into a mindless automaton. If their condition puts them so far outside the range of normality, then we have placed them apart from the human condition. This means, tragically, that we have expelled them from the human community while we continue to act as their ethical custodians.

Getting pregnant at forty-four or at any age is a woman’s prerogative. In this issue, the enshrined value is: choice. I suppose what angered my friend was the knowledge that choice is never a given and is never morally neutral. It presupposes that some choices are exercised more responsibly than others, and that there are ethical criteria for making sound choices. This I know to be true; but when it comes to the exercise of reproductive rights, when the personal is inseparable from the political, we have to tread carefully. Too much is at stake and too much is subject to exploitation by those who would tamper with women’s reproductive rights. The knowledge it takes to make an informed ethical judgment is often gargantuan. Exercising premature judgments is riskier when we are tempted to forsake principle for political expediency.

And now, what do you think, morally reasoning readers?