Where Have All the Girls Gone?
It's true: Western money and
advice really did help fuel the explosion of sex selection in Asia.
BY MARA HVISTENDAHL, |Foreign Policy, JUNE 27, 2011
How did more than 160 million
women go missing from Asia? The simple answer is sex selection --
typically, an ultrasound scan followed by an abortion if the fetus
turns out to be female -- but beyond that, the reasons for a gap
half the size of the U.S. population are not widely understood. And
when I started researching a book on the topic, I didn't understand
them myself.
I thought I would focus on how
gender discrimination has persisted as countries develop. The
reasons couples gave for wanting boys varies: Sons stayed in the
family and took care of their parents in old age, or they performed
ancestor and funeral rites important in some cultures. Or it was
that daughters were a burden, made expensive by skyrocketing
dowries.
But that didn't account for
why sex selection was spreading across cultural and religious lines.
Once found only in East and South Asia, imbalanced sex ratios at
birth have recently reached countries as varied as Vietnam, Albania,
and Azerbaijan. The problem has fanned out across these countries,
moreover, at a time when women are driving many developing
economies. In India, where women have achieved political firsts
still not reached in the United States, sex selection has become so
intense that by 2020 an estimated 15 to 20 percent of men in
northwest India will lack female counterparts. I could only explain
that epidemic as the cruel sum of technological advances and
lingering sexism. I did not think the story of sex selection's
spread would lead, in part, to the United States.
Then I looked into it, and
discovered that what I thought were right-wing conspiracy theories
about the nexus of Western feminism and population control actually
had some, if very distant and entirely historical, basis in truth.
As it turns out, Western advisors and researchers, and Western
money, were among the forces that contributed to a serious reduction
in the number of women and girls in the developing world. And today
feminist and reproductive-rights groups are still reeling from that
legacy.
The story begins in the
mid-20th century, when several factors converged to make Western
demographers worried about global population growth. Thanks to
advances in public health, people were living longer than ever
before. Projections released by the U.N. Population Division in 1951
suggested what the sum of all those extra years of life could be:
Rapid population growth was on the horizon, particularly in the
developing world. As pundits forecast a global "population
explosion," anxiety mounted in policy circles, and the population
control movement that coalesced brought together everyone from
environmentalists to McCarthyites. Viewed through a 1960s Beltway
lens, mounting numbers of people meant higher rates of poverty,
which in turn made countries more vulnerable to communism.
The U.S. Agency for
International Development (USAID), the World Bank, and the
Rockefeller Foundation were among the organizations that poured
money into stanching the birth rate abroad, while the International
Planned Parenthood Federation (IPPF) and the Population Council
helped coordinate efforts on the ground. As these organizations
backed research into barriers to couples accepting contraception,
one of the obstacles quickly identified was that in most parts of
the world, but particularly in fast-growing Asia, people continued
to have children until they got a boy. As demographer S.N. Agarwala
explained in a paper on India he presented at a 1963 IPPF conference
in Singapore: "[S]ome religious rites, especially those connected
with the death of the parents, can be performed only by the male
child.... [T]hose who have only daughters try their best to have at
least one male child." Even in the United States, surveys suggested
a preference for sons.
That raised the question: What
if couples could be guaranteed a son from the start? Elsewhere,
scientists were working to perfect fetal sex determination tests for
women carrying sex-linked disorders like hemophilia, which only
manifests itself in males. (The first sex-selective abortions,
performed in 1955 by Danish doctors in Copenhagen, were actually
done on women carrying male fetuses.) But the technology was still
incipient and required a late-term abortion. Proponents of
population control began talking about nudging sex selection along.
In 1967, for example, when Planned Parenthood Federation of America
President Alan Guttmacher received a proposal from an Indian
scientist interested in finding a way to "control SEX in human
reproduction," he scrawled a note across the top in hasty red
pencil, asking the organization's medical director to consider
whether the research was in fact "worth encouraging."
Planned Parenthood didn't fund
the research in the end, but on the technicality that the U.S.
government had recently cut funding for fellowships to foreigners.
Six months later Steven Polgar, the organization's head of research,
went public with the notion that sex selection was an effective
population control method. Taking the podium before an audience of
scholars and policymakers at a conference sponsored by the National
Institute of Child Health and Human Development (NICHD), Polgar
"urged," according to the meeting's minutes, "that sociologists
stimulate biologists to find a method of sex determination, since
some parents have additional children in order to get one of
specified sex."
At first the language was
gender-neutral. But before long the descriptions grew more blunt,
and some proponents talked frankly about selecting for sons. In the
years that followed, Population Council President Bernard Berelson
endorsed sex selection in the pages of Science, while Paul Ehrlich
advocated giving couples the sons they desired in his blockbuster
The Population Bomb. "[I]f a simple method could be found to
guarantee that first-born children were males," he wrote, "then
population control problems in many areas would be somewhat eased."
In many countries, he wrote, "couples with only female children
'keep trying' in hope of a son." A wide range of population control
strategies were on the table at the time, but by the end of the
decade, when the NICHD held another workshop on reducing birth
rates, sex selection had emerged as an approach that participants
deemed "particularly desirable."
Other spokesmen -- for they
were mostly men -- included Arno G. Motulsky, a geneticist at the
University of Washington-Seattle, William D. McElroy, then head of
the biology department at Johns Hopkins University, and British
microbiologist John Postgate. Postgate was particularly resolute. He
extolled sex selection in an article for the New Scientist,
explaining that population growth was so great a threat that the
drawbacks of a skewed sex ratio would have to be tolerated, grim as
they were. "A form ofpurdah" might be necessary, he predicted, while
"Women's right to work, even to travel alone freely, would probably
be forgotten transiently." A handful of women got on board as well.
In 1978, former ambassador and former U.S. Congresswoman Clare
Boothe Luce wrote an article for the Washington Star in which she
clamored for the development of a "manchild pill" -- a drug a woman
could take before sex to ensure any children that resulted would be
male.
Before long, sex selection
emerged as a favored solution. In the context of '60s and '70s
population politics, it had the appeal of being a voluntary strategy
that played to individual behavior. In his paper for Science,
Berelson ranked sex selection's ethical value as "high." Postgate
pointed out, "Countless millions of people would leap at the
opportunity to breed male." And other strategies being tried in Asia
at the time entailed coercion, not choice.
In South Korea, Western money
enabled the creation of a fleet of mobile clinics -- reconditioned
U.S. Army ambulances donated by USAID and staffed by poorly trained
workers and volunteers. Fieldworkers employed by the health
ministry's Bureau of Public Health were paid based on how many
people they brought in for sterilizations and intrauterine device
insertions, and some allege Korea's mobile clinics later became the
site of abortions as well. By the 1970s, recalls gynecologist Cho
Young-youl, who was a medical student at the time, "there were
agents going around the countryside to small towns and bringing
women into the [mobile] clinics. That counted toward their pay. They
brought the women regardless of whether they were pregnant."
Non-pregnant women were sterilized. A pregnant woman met a worse
fate, Cho says: "The agent would have her abort and then undergo
tubal ligation." As Korea's abortion rate skyrocketed, Sung-bong
Hong and Christopher Tietze detailed its rise in the Population
Council journal Studies in Family Planning. By 1977, they
determined, doctors in Seoul were performing 2.75 abortions for
every birth -- the highest documented abortion rate in human
history. Were it not for this history, Korean sociologist Heeran
Chun recently told me, "I don't think sex-selective abortion would
have become so popular."
In India, meanwhile, advisors
from the World Bank and other organizations pressured the government
into adopting a paradigm, as public-health activist Sabu George put
it to me, "where the entire problem was population." The Rockefeller
Foundation granted $1.5 million to the All India Institute of
Medical Sciences (AIIMS), the country's top medical school, and the
Ford Foundation chipped in $63,563 for "research into reproductive
biology." And sometime in the mid-1960s, Population Council medical
director Sheldon Segal showed the institute's doctors how to test
human cells for the sex chromatins that indicated a person was
female -- a method that was the precursor to fetal sex
determination.
Soon after, the technology
matured, and second-trimester fetal sex determination became
possible using amniocentesis. In 1975, AIIMS doctors inaugurated
sex-selective abortion trials at a government hospital, offering
amniocentesis to poor women free of charge and then helping them,
should they so choose, to abort on the basis of sex. An estimated
1,000 women carrying female fetuses underwent abortions. The doctors
touted the study as a population control experiment, and
sex-selective abortion spread throughout India. In his
autobiography, Segal professed to being shocked to learn that
doctors at AIIMS were using a variation on his instructions to
perform sex-selective abortions. But he neglected to mention that
shortly after his stay in India he stood before an audience at the
National Institute of Child Health and Human Development and
described sex selection as a method of population control. (The
minutes from the meeting describe "sex determination at conception"
-- now finally available today through advances in assisted
reproductive technology -- but in-utero sex determination was the
form of sex selection furthest along at that point.)
Sex selection hit China the
same year the AIIMS experiments began. The country accepted Western
aid belatedly, in 1979. But after years of being kept out of the
Middle Kingdom, the U.N. Population Fund (UNFPA) and IPPF jumped at
the opportunity to play a role in the world's most populous country,
with UNFPA chipping in $50 million for computers, training, and
publicity on the eve of the one-child policy's unveiling. Publicly,
officers at both UNFPA and IPPF claimed China's new policy relied on
the Chinese people's exceptional knack for communalism. But,
according to Columbia University historian Matthew Connelly's
account of the population control movement, Fatal Misconception, in
January 1980 IPPF information officer Penny Kane privately fretted
about local officials' evident interest in meeting the new birth
quotas through forced abortions. Accounts of those eventually leaked
out, as did reports of sex-selective abortions. In 1982, Associated
Press correspondent Victoria Graham warned that those augured a
spreading trend. "These are not isolated cases," she wrote, adding:
"Demographers are warning that if the balance between the sexes is
altered by abortion and infanticide, it could have dire
consequences."
Today, some of those dire
consequences have become alarmingly apparent. Part of that is the
extent to which organizations like UNFPA have found themselves
unable to perform legitimate services in the developing world
because of their historic connection to population control. For it
was news of sex-selective and forced abortions that helped fuel a
budding anti-abortion movement in the United States. Protesters
showed up at the 1984 World Population Conference in Mexico City,
wielding evidence of abuses in China. The next year, President
Ronald Reagan unveiled what would become known as the "global gag
rule," cutting off $46 million in funds to UNFPA -- money that might
have gone toward maternal and child health as well as population
control. The struggle to fund reproductive health continued over the
next two decades, with subsequent U.S. presidents withdrawing or
reinstating the gag rule along partisan lines.
Nowadays, of course, UNFPA and
Planned Parenthood are led by a new wave of feminist bureaucrats who
are keen on ensuring reproductive rights, and they no longer finance
global population control. Thanks to a thriving anti-abortion
movement, Planned Parenthood can barely make contraceptives and safe
abortion available to the American women who actually want them. But
contentious American politics has these and other groups on the left
stuck in what Joseph Chamie, former head of the U.N. Population
Division,calls "the abortion bind." The United Nations issued an
interagency statement condemning sex selection and outlining
recommendations for action last week, and UNFPA was among the
agencies that helped draft it. The organization has also funded
research on sex selection and sex ratio imbalance at the local
level. But its legacy in the developing world continues to haunt its
leaders, to the detriment of women worldwide. Lingering anxiety over
taking on issues involving abortion, activists and demographers have
told me, now has UNFPA reluctant to address sex selection head-on at
the international level -- a reluctance that has left the
organization's enemies to twist the issue to fit their own agenda.
(Anti-abortion groups and pundits have provenall too eager to to
take on the issue, though they seem far more interested in driving
home restrictions on abortion than they do in increasing the number
of women in the world and protecting the rights of women at risk.)
Meanwhile, as American
politicians argue over whether to cut Planned Parenthood's U.S.
funding and the Christian right drives through bans on sex-selective
abortion at the state level, the effects of three decades of sex
selection elsewhere in the world are becoming alarmingly apparent.
In China, India, Korea, and Taiwan, the first generation shaped by
sex selection has grown up, and men are scrambling to find women,
yielding the ugly sideblows of increased sex trafficking and bride
buying. In a Chinese boomtown, I watched soap operas with a slight,
defeated woman from the poor mountains of the west who had been
brought east by a trafficker and sold into marriage. (Her favorite
show: Women Don't Cry.) In the Mekong Delta, I visited an island
commune where local women are hawked by their parents for a few
thousand dollars to "surplus" Taiwanese men. While the purdah
forecasted by John Postgate has not yet come to pass, feminists in
Asia worry that as women become scarce, they will be pressured into
taking on domestic roles and becoming housewives and mothers rather
than scientists and entrepreneurs.
But what happens to women is
only part of the story. Demographically speaking, women matter less
and less. By 2013, an estimated one in 10 men in China will lack a
female counterpart. By the late 2020s, that figure could jump to one
in five. There are many possible scenarios for how these men will
cope without women -- and not all, of course, want women -- but
several of them involve rising rates of unrest. Already Columbia
University economist Lena Edlund and colleagues at Chinese
University of Hong Kong have found a link between a large share of
males in the young adult population and an increase in crime in
China. Doomsday analysts need look no further than America's
history: Murder rates soared in the male-dominated Wild West.
Four decades ago, Western
advocacy of sex selection yielded tragic results. But if we continue
to ignore that legacy and remain paralyzed by heated U.S. abortion
politics, we're compounding that mistake. Indian public health
activist George, indeed, says waiting to act is no longer an option:
If the world does "not see ten years ahead to where we're headed,
we're lost."
Mara Hvistendahl is a correspondent with Science magazine and
the author of Unnatural Selection: Choosing Boys over Girls,
and the Consequences of a World Full of Men.