Why the Heritage Foundation’s new family plan should terrify you this Valentine’s Day
Valentine’s Day. Love it or hate it. It’s almost upon us.
Colliding as it does with a moment in time when the ghastly truth about a global enterprise in the rape, exploitation and disposal of girls and young women seeps out from between the cracks of a silo built of rotting lies and decaying carcasses… Well. What can I say?
It made me think about the whole girl-meets-boy thing.
Then, I hear about Moya. An AI-powered robot “designed for human companionship,” apparently. She’s biomimetic, which as far as I can tell means she can walk, has micro-expressions – hey, look! she can wink! – plus, she keeps herself at an oh-so inviting body temperature of between 32 and 36 degrees Celsius, and has “dense” skin, whatever the fuck that means.
For just US$173,000, she can be your very own, uncanny, pink-haired best friend.
Because, yeah. I’m sure all the cashed-up incels lining up to get their hands on Moya are looking for a bot to share “meaningful conversations” with.
There’s not enough Lysol in the world to clean up the mess they’re going to leave behind. Unless, like an oven, Moya comes in a self-cleaning version.
Why go plastic, when real women are amazing?
Given technological advances, it was inevitable.
Like we need a reminder that for most of our time on earth as a species, women have been possessions. Objects to be traded. Used till worn out. Then discarded.
The truth is that it has been a purple patch for women in the west of late. And, when I say “of late,” let’s be quite clear. I’m only talking fifty years or so. My lifetime, basically.
I’m mother to a daughter. One day, I may be grandmother to granddaughters. I also think women are fucking amazing.
So, looking at what’s going on through the lens of my expertise as a historian and student of human nature terrifies me.
Because the release of an influential report last month from the same people who gave us Project 2025 shows they’re playing hardball.
If they have their way, we’re headed back to the dark ages.
We ignore this at our peril.
You think Valentine’s Day today is an ordeal?
Unless we push back it’s just reverting to form, unfortunately.
I’m sure it all stems from women’s unique ability to… well… create life.
Take THAT, fellas!
No wonder they get shitty with us. Went to the moon? Discovered the Theory of Relativity? Yeah, whatevs. I can grow a human being inside me.
Back to Valentine’s Day. As with so many other festivals, it all comes down to procreation.
But you think Valentine’s Day today is an ordeal?
Could have been worse. Trust me. You could have been celebrating it in Ancient Rome.
Valentine’s Day as we know it began with the Roman fertility festival of Lupercalia.
Young men and women would start off by drinking a fair amount and getting naked. Yeah, that sounds familiar.
Not so much the next stage.
The men would then sacrifice a dog and a couple of goats and cut thongs from the dead animals’ skin.
They’d chase the women and try to smack them with the bloody (and, I do mean bloody) thong. A successful strike would make a woman fertile.
Next would be the Ancient Roman equivalent of the ‘70s key party, as the young men drew women’s names out of a jar. The couples would pair up for the duration of the festival and let nature take its course.
When two men, both named Valentine, were executed in the third century on the same day as Lupercalia, and a pope merged the two festivals in the hope it would drive out the pagan tradition, we got ourselves St Valentine’s Day.
The weaker sex?
Ever since, the story we’ve been told is that human relationships are all about women succumbing to men’s needs and desires.
Because, science.
But is it really that simple?
The late 1960s gave us the theory that prehistoric men were doing manly things like running across the plains hunting woolly mammoths while women were doing ladylike things such as giving birth, breastfeeding, and crawling through the undergrowth gathering seeds, nuts and berries.
Both were crucial to the early evolution of the human species. But recent research suggests it might not have been that straightforward, and that child rearing may have had a more communal dimension to it so that women could hunt as well.
Either way, there’s no questioning the crucial role played by women as primary caregivers to newborn children in prehistoric human societies.
For one thing, the human brain is only able to develop to its disproportionately large size because babies are born utterly useless. A baby antelope will be up on its legs, drinking from its mother’s teats within minutes of being born. That’s where its energy goes.
Not a human baby, though. Without a mother to pick it up, point it in the direction of her boob, and lug it around with her, that baby would be picked off by predators in seconds. If the first human mums had dumped their babies and run, it would have been a very short human race.
But because human beings look after their babies, most of a newborn’s energy goes into brain development. That energy comes in the form of supercharged, sugary breast-milk. The bonus of that? The vocalisation and eye contact that passes between the baby and the person doing the breastfeeding (because, yes, prehistoric humans did the whole wet-nursing thing, so it wasn’t always the mother).
There’s a good chance that this exchange laid the foundation for the beginnings of complex oral communication we enjoy as human beings. Without that, we’d still be hanging around in trees grunting at each other.
So, the connection between mother and child is primal and important.
Sowing the seed
Because so much effort and energy goes into raising a human child, because the little buggers are so dependent for so long, even in prehistoric times a man wanted to make sure the kids running around the cave were going to be carrying his genetics, rather than the DNA belonging to smooth-talking Grug from across the way. Because, I mean, have you seen the pecs underneath that mat of hair on his chest? Dude is ripped.
That attitude has persisted through the ages.
It’s why chastity belts.
It’s why “no, you can’t leave the house to go shopping unless one of the blokes in the house goes with you.”
That’s why “no, you can’t get a licence and drive a car.”
As for a passport without your husband or father’s permission? Forget about it.
Underpinning it is the idea that women are untrustworthy, soft-minded creatures who are easily led astray.
Meet, the female orgasm.
Once experienced, never forgotten.
Women have been chasing the orgasm for tens of thousands of years. That’s the reason dildos date back as far as 40,000 years (yes, really), with double-ended variants appearing 19,000 years ago.
But the female orgasm is not so wonderful for a man who wants to control what goes into a woman’s womb. Because if she heads out in search of an orgasm because she’s not getting what she wants at home, who knows where she might end up?
It’s why there are religious extremists who hack off a woman’s external genital organs, including the clitoris. Because without that, she’s not going to have much fun in the sack. So, the reasoning goes, she’s less likely to step out on “her” man.
Are you my mother?
Between ladies exercising their rights to sample the menu, and the whole rape thing, it’s why some human societies are based on a matrilineal heritage.
Most of us know who our mother is. But our father? Given that can be a simple case of dump and run, that can be hit or miss.
Recent research has found that this is one explanation for a tradition that persists despite recent advances in women’s rights. It’s thought that a woman takes a husband’s surname to signal her fidelity to her spouse and his paternal grandparents in the hope that they will then invest emotionally and materially in her children.
Women as chattels
And so we end up here.
With women running around desperately seeking the big “O,” is it any wonder men started treating women as possessions? Why would you give your lady free rein if she was at risk of stepping out on you and filling her womb with another man’s child? (In case you didn’t get it, that’s me being sarcastic. What can I say? I’m Australian. Sarcasm is our third native language. Swearing is our second).
Even as a little thing, I couldn’t understand why my mother wrote her name as “Mrs William Wilson.”
But that’s the other reason for the tradition of taking your husband’s name. It’s like changing the name on a vehicle’s registration when you buy it. It marks that thing as taken. Owned. Possessed.
Love and marriage… horse and carriage?
Well, that didn’t age well, did it Mr Sinatra? Guess “marriage” isn’t an easy one to rhyme. Also… “disparage”? Props for working that into a song, though.
You know the other thing that went together with marriage until distressingly recently? Rape.
Because: see prev. “Ownership.”
Yeah.
It starts, of course, with the troublesome “obey” bit of the 500-year-old traditional marriage vow. You know the one. The thing the woman has to say. Not the man.
Remember when Whitney Houston released “I’ll Always Love You”? That was in 1993.
Until that year, married women were compelled to “Always Love” their husbands in America, whether they felt like it or not. Because it wasn’t until 1993 that all U.S. states had removed formal marital rape exemptions.
Why? Because…
How do you steal something you already own?
The word “rape” comes from the Latin, rapere, meaning “to steal.”
The basis for marital immunity from rape prosecution is traced back to 1736, when Sir Matthew Hale ruled that: “The husband cannot be guilty of a rape committed by himself upon his lawful wife, for by their mutual matrimonial consent and contract the wife hath given up herself in this kind unto her husband, which she cannot retract.”
The laws weren’t amended in the west until the 1980s and ‘90s.
What rights?
It was more than the right to turn down a roll in the hay.
Until recently in the west, a woman gave up all legal rights as an individual when she walked down the aisle.
In America, she couldn’t get a credit card in her own name until 1972.
Until 1974, a woman needed a male co-signatory for a mortgage and signed permission from her husband.
No Australian woman could list her occupation as ‘farmer’ on the census until 1994.
Women seldom appeared on juries until the 1960s… the film was called “Twelve Angry Men” for a very good reason.
“Covered woman”
All this was a hangover from the legal doctrine of coverture, dating back to Norman times.
As a femme couverte, or ‘covered woman,’ upon marriage, a woman’s identity and property rights were absorbed into those of her husband. She couldn’t hold property under her own name, make contracts, or sue or be sued.
It also affected a woman’s right to work.
Thanks to the so-called “Marriage Bar,” married women were barred from the Australian Public Service until 1966. A woman who walked down the aisle had to hand in her resignation papers the next day or keep her marriage secret.
Nine states had work bans on married women. Bear in mind, this isn’t even a hundred years ago.
It’s always been about control
Even if a married woman was permitted to earn a crust, her income went to her husband.
And she didn’t inherit property, because what was the point? She wasn’t allowed to own it.
Women needed to marry to make sure they had a roof over their heads. But once they did, they owned literally nothing. Not even the clothes on their backs. If a woman left her husband, she wouldn’t see her children again.
And good luck getting that divorce. It wasn’t legally available to women in America until the mid-19th century. And even then, a woman had to approve “aggravated” adultery.
So, not just the garden variety version. We’re talking bigamy, incest, sodomy, or bestiality.
You read that correctly. Bestiality.
“The disintegration of family life”
In Wisconsin in 1935, lawmakers said married women who dared get a job were the “calling card for disintegration of family life.”
“The large number of husbands and wives working for the state raises a serious moral question,” they continued, “as this committee feels that the practice of birth control is encouraged, and the selfishness that arises from the income of employment of husband and wife bids fair to break down civilization and a healthy atmosphere.”
After creating a situation where a married woman was completely dependent on her husband, and had no rights as an individual, is it any wonder where we ended up?
Who’s the boss?
How could women not be viewed as “the weaker sex”?
It was first posited in… surprise, surprise… the Bible, when the Apostle Peter ordered husbands to bestow “honour on the woman as the weaker sex.”
Coupled with the whole Garden of Eden and apple thing, what chance did we have?
But it’s not as if it’s a thing in all animal species.
Many of the most impressive creatures on earth, including lions, big deer, elephants, and orcas, live in matriarchal societies. They wisely recognise that although it’s useful having a man around for their sperm, and to help defend the tribe, their furious competitive spirit sees them end up in punch-ups with other fellas over mating rights.
They’re just not seen as level-headed or trustworthy enough to lead. They’re too competitive to think of the good of the tribe, rather than holding onto the chance to impregnate a whole herd of women.
So, the role of leader falls to an older female member of the herd.
If only.
Heritage Foundation
Which brings us to this. Because all the things you’ve just read that had you gasping in horror would have the Heritage Foundation leaping with joy.
It should strike fear into the heart of every woman who has ambitions to be anything other than a Stepford Wife, because it’s a direct attack on women’s rights, as well as marriage rights for same-sex couples.
The report declares the family as the “foundation of civilization, and marriage—the committed union of one man and one woman… its cornerstone.”
As for the greatest threat to western civilisation? That would be “a decline in stable married households headed by a father and mother.” It is “a menace to the future of every developed country.”
“[T]o restore the nation’s health, society must return the family to its pride of place.”
The report’s writers bemoan the loss of the “incentives” for large families in recent times, including the fact that fewer Americans live in rural areas, meaning the “labor potential” of children on farms and coal mines has been lost.
For sure. Such a shame we’ve moved beyond children labouring in coal mines…. (yes, that’s sarcasm again).
Every child gets a prize!
Their solutions? Financial incentives for couples to marry earlier, to remain married, and to procreate. Early, and often.
It’s a cash bonanza! Every child gets a prize! Literally.
A big part of it is to unpick the damage done by those troublesome feminists, who, according to the authors, “commanded a crusade that promoted sexual, financial, and familial “freedom” for women. Women were encouraged to “liberate” themselves from a patriarchal culture that insisted they stay at home and raise a family. In their worldview, a husband and children were limitations on a woman’s freedom to truly express her authentic self.”
“According to contemporary feminists, marriage and motherhood are traps created by men, not gifts granted by God.”
“Over-credentialling”
According to the authors, the way around this is to discourage women from “over-credentialing.” In case you missed it, that means no more university degrees for women, because, babies.
Perish forbid.
Sweeteners will be offered to keep families together, as divorce laws are tightened to make separation next-to impossible.
Suggested incentives include an “official commendation” from a governor… yeah, because if I’m stuck in a miserable marriage, a signed certificate from a politician is sure to keep me from walking out the door.
Proving their break with reality, the ideal, frugal, prolific American family they hold up as an example, is the Brady Bunch.
Yes, really. They use a fictional TV family to illustrate their point.
No words.
A Brave New World…?
There is one thing I agree with in the Heritage Foundation’s otherwise horrifying report.
That’s their stand against what they call the “pro-natalists.” They’re the people working towards automated factories with artificial wombs that can gestate made-to-order human babies from the moment of fertilization.
Think Brave New World.
There’s no doubt at all in my mind that Moya, the pink-haired “companion” bot, is the first step towards making women redundant.
I may violently disagree with almost everything the Foundation has to say about women and the family.
But I do wholeheartedly agree with that.
Because who wants a world where a select group of wealthy men sit in their high castles and grow babies in bottles?
Definitely not me.
Tell me what you think in the comments. Because this is a conversation we need to be having.
Now.
Before it’s too late.
