Since the women are the ones who bear the babies, and there's

In the words of Phyllis Schlafly, “Since the women are the ones who bear the babies, and there’s nothing we can do about that, our laws and customs then make it the financial obligation of the husband to provide the support. It is his obligation and his sole obligation. And this is exactly and precisely what we will lose if the Equal Rights Amendment is passed.” we encounter not only a statement of belief, but a vision of how society was ordered and how some feared it would be overturned. Schlafly, who stood as a formidable opponent of the ERA in the 1970s and 1980s, invoked the ancient truth that women alone can bring forth life. From that undeniable fact she drew a chain of reasoning: if women carry the burden of childbirth, then men must, by law and custom, carry the burden of provision.

This quote was forged in the midst of the fierce battle over the Equal Rights Amendment, a proposed change to the U.S. Constitution that sought to guarantee equality of rights regardless of sex. To many, it was the promise of liberation; to Schlafly and her followers, it was the threat of undoing protections that shielded women, especially mothers. She feared that if all obligations were declared equal before the law, the special duty of the husband to support his wife and children might vanish, leaving women exposed to hardship in times of weakness. Her words reveal the age-old tension between equality and distinction: whether men and women are to be treated the same, or honored in their differences.

History bears witness to the weight of her concern. In the days of the Roman Republic, when wars left many widows, the state created provisions for the support of soldiers’ families. The reasoning was simple and solemn: since the men fought and the women bore the future of Rome, justice demanded protection for those left behind. Had the law decreed strict equality in every aspect, some families might have perished in poverty. Thus, Rome recognized difference, not to diminish women, but to shield them. Schlafly’s voice echoed this older tradition: a belief that law must bend to nature, not deny it.

Yet, the ancients also teach us that clinging too tightly to custom can stifle growth. Consider Sparta, where women were granted greater freedoms, including the right to own land and exercise in public, because the men were so often at war. This divergence from the norm did not weaken their society but gave it resilience. The tension between tradition and transformation is therefore eternal: one binds communities together, the other reshapes them to endure new challenges. Schlafly’s warning was born of love for stability, but history reminds us that change, too, may carry wisdom.

The deeper meaning of her words is this: laws are not written in a vacuum; they are woven upon the loom of nature. Since only women can bring forth life, societies have always grappled with how to honor and protect that sacred labor. Schlafly feared that by erasing legal distinctions, society would erase the safeguards that supported mothers. Whether or not her fear was justified, her reasoning reveals a timeless truth: that every civilization must decide how to balance equality with responsibility.

The lesson for us, O listener, is not to scorn her words nor to worship them, but to understand them. When change arrives, weigh carefully what is gained and what is lost. Ask not only, “Is this fair?” but also, “What hidden burdens will fall upon the weak if this is altered?” For every reform carries unseen consequences, and wisdom lies in foreseeing them. To honor women’s unique role in bringing forth life need not mean denying them equal voice in the world; but neither should equality mean blindness to difference.

Therefore, let each of us walk with discernment. When you hear the cry for reform, listen also for the whispers of what might be lost. When you hear the defense of tradition, look as well for what might be unjust. And in your own life, honor both equality and distinction: share burdens fairly, yet respect the unique labors that nature has bestowed upon each. For justice is not sameness, but balance—and only by balance can a society stand strong, like a temple whose pillars hold firm against the winds of time.

Thus, the words of Phyllis Schlafly endure as both warning and teaching. They call us to remember that the laws of men must always reckon with the laws of nature, and that in the clash between custom and change, the future is decided not by passion alone, but by wisdom, foresight, and the courage to balance truth with mercy.