In recent days, actress Lena Dunham and singer Lady Gaga’s new ‘motherhood’ have once again thrust the issue of surrogacy into the internet spotlight. The debate has once again highlighted aspects that clearly illustrate the arguments used by proponents of this industry. Surrogacy contracts are ‘regulated’ in widely varying ways around the world; while some countries – the majority – ban the practice entirely, others permit it with various safeguards and on a non-profit basis or treat it as a free-market activity.
The central argument hinges on the notion of “individual freedom” as a kind of divine power – one that stands above good and evil and exists outside any meaningful material context. It is an idea exhausted and hollowed out by U.S. culture, an increasingly powerful global force, which remains tethered to economic theories that invariably prioritise money over any collective social interest.
Yet, looking beyond the marketing narrative: what are we actually discussing when we talk about surrogacy? Can we truly speak of freedom? Is contractual freedom sufficient to take precedence over everything else?
First, we must consider the context, as this is not a contract that exists in isolation from an industry. This type of business involves agents external to the two primary parties who are almost invariably conveniently left out of the equation. Surrogacy agencies are enterprises that in turn involve large legal teams, geneticists, gynaecologists, and pharmaceutical companies – a vast conglomerate that benefits numerous other industries globally and generates over $14 billion in annual worldwide revenue. It is important to bear this in mind, as these entities, rather than the “gestating” women, are the primary financial beneficiaries of such practices. Furthermore, this business does not operate solely at the national level but functions globally, targeting impoverished nations in an act of modern imperialism; the most common source of labour comes from women in vulnerable social backgrounds and classes. The countries most frequently utilised have consistently been those where the compensation paid to women is lowest and where there are fewer ‘scruples’.
In other words, wealthy nations exploit the resources and populations (in this instance, women and their children) of colonised countries. This industry spares no expense on the propaganda needed to consolidate and expand its business; it also operates as a lobby within various international bodies to push for legislation that establishes the legal certainty required to safeguard clients’ investments. No one is going to spend tens of thousands of euros or dollars without a guarantee that they will receive the object of their investment in perfect condition. To this end, it is necessary to ensure that states have the minimum legal frameworks in place to support the security of such businesses, given that they involve issues like the international recognition of documents, court rulings, and so forth.
In this regard, they are the first to promote advertising designed to foster a social mindset that empathises with this practice, viewing it not as exploitation or human trafficking, but as an act of altruism and the fulfilment of dreams.
The idea of ”women’s freedom” is constantly presented to us as a legitimising factor, while the entire preceding context is ignored. A context of socioeconomic vulnerability, classism, racism, imperialism, multi-million-dollar industries and structural inequality. Added to this is propaganda designed to recruit women by appealing to emotion and the notion that this is “an act of infinite kindness aimed at achieving a greater good.” There is no direct coercion in the legal sense, there is no loaded gun being pointed, yet structural inequality acts as a decisive conditioning factor.
Acknowledging this is not paternalism, nor does it curtail freedoms; rather, it is a recognition of how abuse operates. If those who claim to champion women’s freedom by defending this practice were truly sincere, they would ensure that a woman could – at any time – change her mind and keep her child, or make any other decision regarding her physical integrity, without facing any financial penalty. Instead, her freedom seems to matter only if it serves as a pretext to bind her and hold her accountable for a contract that strips her of that very freedom. The freedom of the “gestating” woman is relevant only because it guarantees the legal certainty required for the contract to function.
It is also common to encounter the hackneyed argument of “altruism”, a hypothetical scenario in which women, without any financial compensation, decide to enter into these types of contracts to help someone become a parent. These arrangements usually involve family members or friends. It is important to note, however, that in countries where this model exists, such cases account for a small proportion of surrogacy. The lobby uses these rare instances to portray surrogacy as a sincere act of love and generosity. What they fail to mention is that this model is necessary to provide the aforementioned legal certainty to their contracts in impoverished countries where payment is involved.
Finally, regarding these cases, I would like to reflect on the “altruism” trap. Why do we consider the abuse to be less severe simply because there is no financial compensation? Is the act itself not the same? Is the newborn child not also removed at birth? Why do we believe that taking advantage of a woman’s love is more legitimate than paying a woman to do it? We are witnessing yet another example of the classic use of love to exploit women, sanctioned by the institutions of family or friendship.
Another argument used to legitimise such practices is the denial of the pregnant woman’s motherhood or biological connection to the baby, based on the claim that the infant’s genetic makeup is not hers. The first point to address is whether the baby’s genetic material actually belongs to either of the contracting parties, given that it is common practice to use embryos created from gametes provided by third parties – gametes deemed genetically more “suitable” to the paying party’s preferences. This argument is striking, as it effectively denies the biological motherhood of women who give birth using a donor’s egg. Realistically, it appears that what truly determines “ownership” of the baby is not genetics, but rather who pays for its creation.
This argument stems from a fundamentally patriarchal mindset that is harmful to women, as it reduces a biological process as complex as pregnancy to that of a mere “oven” – rendering women themselves inconsequential to the process. It is the same notion that has underpinned the concept of patria potestas for centuries – traditionally functioning as a father’s property right over his children while virtually excluding any rights the mother might have over them. It is the idea of the woman as an inactive, passive being who simply hosts the development of a life actually created by the person who implanted it within her.
Today, we know that pregnancy is not a passive process. We know that the pregnant woman plays a crucial role in fetal development, a process that would unfold differently with a different woman or under different circumstances. We understand the mechanisms of epigenetics and the phenomenon of fetal microchimerism; we recognise the profound changes that occur in a pregnant woman’s brain during pregnancy and the postpartum period; and we acknowledge the direct bond between mother and baby at birth. This connection that has nothing to do with any predetermined genetic makeup.
We have known about the existence of ova for a very short time in historical terms, and that knowledge has never been a requirement for a woman to be considered the mother of the human being she gave birth to. It is not without reason that maternal filiation is determined by childbirth in the majority of legal systems worldwide. Denying this reality constitutes violence against women and children. It means dehumanising our most complex, intimate and vulnerable processes in order to place them at the service of profits and third parties.
Finally, I cannot conclude without focusing on the babies. Human beings turned into contractual objects for which a sum of money is paid. They are literally torn away from their mothers simply because companies and commissioners have paid money and have decided to do so. We are not talking about paying money to achieve a pregnancy; we are talking about paying money to secure the handover of a live baby (often meeting agreed-upon “quality” standards). The concern here goes beyond emotional and psychological harm; it directly involves their safety and human dignity. By leaving the determination of a minor’s legal parentage to contractual agreement, we are jeopardising their well-being and development. We are not granting parental rights to individuals through an adoption process involving judicial and social safeguards; instead, we are handing over babies as products based on the contracting party’s desires rather than the best interests of the child – the principle upon which all relevant legislation should be centred. In doing so, we fuel the trafficking of minors and the assembly-line production of children. We are monetising the human body beyond anything an advanced, functioning, fair society would recognise.
It is worth noting that this practice is outlawed in much of the world and given that minors are involved, it’s a matter that cannot simply be settled by private agreement between the parties.
Surrogacy is merely another example of an abusive, multi-billion-dollar imperialist business built on the exploitation of poor women and children for the benefit of the wealthy. It’s an industry backed by a massive advertising machine that exploits women’s reproductive capacity and our capacity for love, and the profound pain of infertility to garner sympathy for the wealthy celebrity who has bought a baby, rather than for the woman and child who are the victims of surrogacy.
