Some years ago, I felt that the debate on abortion in this country had become so bitter and polarised as to be almost entirely sterile. As a result, with a great deal of help from others, I organised a conference which brought pro-choice and pro-life people together to discuss the one issue that we had in common: that is, how to make abortion more rare. Relief was expressed by all sides that it was possible to lower defences to address an issue of importance to us all.
At the conference, part of my own speech concerned the need to provide adequate supports for women who decide to continue a pregnancy, so that becoming pregnant unexpectedly is not seen as the end of any woman's hopes and dreams.
Afterwards I was taken aside, very courteously, but very firmly by a left-wing TD, who asked me if I had fully thought through the implications of my speech. Did I really wish to normalise lone parenting to the extent that it would be seen as being exactly the same as bringing children into the world in the context of a stable, committed relationship?
I was taken aback, not only by the source of the challenge, but by the dilemma that it presented. Like most people, I believe that the ideal situation for children is to have the committed, long-term attention of two adults who not only love their children, but each other. In our society, even still, marriage represents the best possibility of achieving that goal.
However, like most people, I recognise that life is often not that simple. I think of a friend of mine, widowed at a young age, desperately searching through textbooks to find something, anything, which would reassure her that her children would be all right, even though they had lost their dad. I think of another, much younger friend who became pregnant before her Leaving Cert, and the sheer radiant joy on her face as she watched her little girl take part in her first nativity play. For her, there was no other child present on that stage, and for the child, her mother was the only member of the audience. Their mutual delight was so great, it was almost tangibly glowing in the air between them.
Much of the outrage generated by Kevin Myers' article earlier this week was the sense that it was an attack on children. It is because our history of stigmatising those who were born outside marriage is so recent and so shameful, that the response to his column was so visceral. We are rightly ashamed of how we acted as a society mere decades ago, and a return to the attitudes of those times is beyond contemplation.
There was a lot of talk this week about freedom of expression, and where limits to that freedom should be set. However, there is little talk about self-censorship, about things that may not be said, even though there is valid, empirical evidence to support them. George Bush once famously declared: "I don't do nuance." You do not need to resort to the level of crassness that we saw this week, which in fairness Kevin Myers has abjectly apologised for, to see that on this issue, many of us don't do nuance, either. It is practically impossible to ask questions about family form without being accused of attacking lone parents, who are already vulnerable enough.
Yet if we are to truly be a child-centred community, should we not aim to maximise the possibility that every child will grow up in a stable, married family? After the hurt caused by the article has faded, the real damage may lie in the fact that it is now even more impossible to discuss this question, much less formulate policy around it.
The central focus of the debate on lone parenthood should not be on social welfare dependence, or even fatherlessness, though both are important questions. The truly important question is how we balance the need to encourage people to have children in the environment which maximises (though it does not guarantee) the chances of happiness and security for a child, with the need to include and support people whose lives do not reflect that pattern.
Lone parents are rightly sick of being seen as some kind of homogenous group, which is personally responsible for all the ills of society. The tabloid image of the buggy-pushing teenager in a local authority estate represents a small minority of lone parents, yet much of the debate focuses on them. This is somewhat odd, given that they are the group of lone parents about which there is the greatest consensus. Parenthood represents a degree of fulfilment, emotional satisfaction and independence for these young women. Until viable and equally fulfilling alternatives are readily available, too many young women will continue to get pregnant too young.
Those of us who are in favour of promoting marriage often adopt a sanctimonious, moralising tone that is deeply off-putting. We sometimes act as if any old marriage, no matter how poor the relationship skills of the people involved, is better than none at all. Again, this represents a failure to "do nuance". We must accept that in some instances, it is better for parents of children not to marry, and in some instances it is preferable for married parents to separate. However, in the majority of cases, a stable marriage still represents the best environment for children. The reason why lone parents need additional support is because it is easier to raise children in a situation where the emotional and financial resources of two adults are at their disposal. It is difficult for the State to compensate for the loss of an adult in a family, particularly an earning adult.
A laudable attempt to support lone parents by providing them with the bare minimum needed to maintain dignity, had the unexpected side-effect of making it impossible for many people to live together, much less marry, because of the loss of benefits which would result. This situation needs to be discussed, but it will only happen if a space can be found where defences can be lowered, in order to address an issue that could scarcely be more vital to us all, that is, the long-term welfare of all our children.