The Fertility Day Fiasco
The Italian Health Minister’s latest blunder is so spectacular it defies belief
I have tried hard not to rag on Beatrice Lorenzin. I did not rag on her when she claimed that the high incidence of cancer in some areas in the south of Italy was linked to unhealthy eating, rather than the presence of toxic waste. When she opposed the legalisation of cannabis on grounds that “children might use it”, I let it slide. But now Beatrice Lorenzin, Italy’s Minister of Health, has approved and promoted a campaign that treats all women as little more than walking incubators, people who should hurry up and have children for the sake of the country.
It’s called Fertility Day: ostensibly an initiative in favour of reproductive health, in fact a straight-up attack on the idea that fertility and the body are a private matter. The initiative, slated for September 22nd, was promoted through a series of “postcards” that are among the most offensive things I’ve ever seen. The campaign’s website has been down for some time and has now been replaced by a still image, but I have a few gems saved. Here they are.
I wouldn’t let my mum get away with this, much less the government. This is beyond ridiculous:
It is unclear who they think their target audience is, here. Adults do not believe that children are brought by storks: in fact, adults generally have a clear idea of how fertility works, and whether or not they should “hurry up” and reproduce. The government should not be in the business of hurrying people, but rather of giving its citizens the full range of choices, something that (and I’ll get to that later) Italy is not currently doing. At all.
If that sounds like a non-sequitur that’s because it is.
No kidding. My womb is public property. Like water. Right?
And we’re in full-on lie-back-and-think-of-Italy mode here. Also, Constitution should be capitalised.
And if that weren’t enough, here’s an actual quote from the official document released by the Ministry of Health. No comment needed.
Motherhood, on the other hand, helps develop creative intelligence and is an extraordinary opportunity for growth. The ingenious organization necessary to make a mum’s day work, the flexibility required by unexpected events, the responsibility and choices involved in childcare, the energy employed daily by a mother are skills and potential yet to be explored in order to facilitate their use upon returning to work.
If all of the above reminds you of The Handmaid’s Tale it’s because that’s exactly what it is, give or take an environmental disaster or two. It’s the stuff of dystopian novels and fascist propaganda, something Benito Mussolini was quite good at in times when contraception was unavailable and women did not have the right to vote, much less work outside the home.
Italy’s track record on fertility and reproductive rights is, in fact, abysmal. Law 194, which regulates abortion (among other things) has become virtually impossible to enforce due to the high number of conscientious objectors in public hospitals. Women who wish to terminate a pregnancy have to talk to a psychologist, wait for a minimum of seven days, then hope to find a doctor that will do the surgery (abortion through mifepristone is legal but requires a three-day hospital stay in most regions). Emergency contraception is often illegally denied on “moral” grounds. Law 40, regulating IVF, has already been ruled unconstitutional (but is still in place). There is no sex education in schools, and young people are woefully ignorant of the risks involved in having unsafe sex. None of these issues have been tackled with any seriousness by the Minister of Health.
Couples who wish to have children in Italy have to be heterosexual, first and foremost, as the country does not provide IVF for same-sex couples (at the moment, LGBTQI couples can be joined in a civil union but have no right to stepchild adoption; surrogacy is illegal). They had also better have steady jobs and long-term contracts, as paid maternity leave is only provided for those who do. Unemployment among young people is currently around 42%, which makes having children at that age decidedly unwise. By the time you achieve anything resembling job stability, you’re in your thirties; and God forbid that a woman should actually want a career. Gender-based discrimination is illegal, but it is not uncommon for job interviews to include personal questions about fertility and having children. Those who still go ahead and do it are not guaranteed to get their job back when they return from maternity leave. Families have no support system, childcare is expensive and couples often have to rely on their parents, if available. Many do not have that option.
All this is the government’s business, and should be dealt with in order to make it possible for young Italians to procreate when they feel the urge, or not, according to their wishes and desires. What this campaign hides is the complete inability of the government to tackle the declining birth rate and subsequent decrease of cash flow towards the country’s already severely depleted public welfare. If women choose not to have children — for personal or financial reasons, or both — who is going to pay the insane amount of taxes required to keep the system working? Not the children of immigrants, who are not awarded automatic citizenship even if born and raised on Italian soil. It falls to Italian women to repopulate Italy, fulfilling their biological destiny and doing their patriotic duty.
Before the campaign was unveiled I was asked to take part in a meeting with the Minister of Health, in which I would be allowed to ask only one question. After its release I chose not to attend, and explained my motivations on my personal blog instead. The post has been circulating for a couple of hours and at the time of writing has around 15.000 hits. The #fertilityday hashtag, which the Ministry of Health hoped to use to promote the initiative, has been hijacked by people who are using it to express displeasure and indignation at the campaign. I’ve tried hard not to rag on Beatrice Lorenzin, but enough is enough. At least, it looks like I’m not alone.
