Fans pick 100 books like When Abortion Was a Crime

The word “abortionist” usually conjures up images of dangerous back alleys where untrained men take advantage of women.

In the case of Rickie Solinger’s book, instead, we meet Ruth Barnett, who performed approximately 40,000 abortions in the mid-twentieth century (1918-1968) in Portland, Oregon, without losing a single patient.

What I loved about this book is how Solinger takes us behind the scenes of a thoroughly illegal abortion clinic that still managed to provide expert care to all its patients, even as it sought to evade the law and its enforcers at every turn. 

I had always been aware of the story of Madame Restell, but I always wanted to read something more detailed about her, especially that wasn’t judgmental of her career. Because she was a female physician (mainly known for her abortion services) operating in the 1840s until 1875, her story has often been distorted and sensationalized.

I loved that Wright gave more context to her story and brought it to life through the environmental details of the era. She also emphasized the urgency of the story, particularly the historical moment we are currently living in. Mired in controversy for most of her life, Madame Restell (born Ann Trow Lohman) is a character that Wright renders in a compelling, sympathetic, and human manner.

I thought I had nothing left to learn about Madame Restell, the unapologetic 19th-century abortion provider until I saw how this book was organized. While keeping the narrative flowing, Syrett helpfully organizes Restell’s career into phases defined by changes in the law, her trials, and the emergence of one male adversary after another.

I loved learning that, even after Restell met her Waterloo, her loving grandchildren profited from her legacy. As told by Syrett, a gender-norm-defying woman who was literally hounded to death somehow managed to have the last laugh.

This book has a permanent place on my nightstand, where I reach for it whenever I need a pithy, brilliant reminder of how the US completed its late-nineteenth-century transformation from a country with no abortion laws to a place where abortion was banned everywhere at every stage.

I’m amazed that a book first published in 1978, long before the advent of the Internet, managed to marshal evidence from newspaper classified ads and forgotten trials to present a portrait of America where abortion was widespread but seldom dared to speak its name.

Mary Ziegler is arguably the country’s foremost expert on abortion law; I hear her on NPR every time judges and justices weigh in on women’s reproductive freedom.

This is her account not of how Roe v. Wade got decided or what the law did, but instead of how the case has become symbolic of the Supreme Court writ large and the struggles over women’s autonomy in the United States. In essence, this is a history of how we have all come to invest so much in the myth of Roe, even as it was recently overturned.

I find Ziegler to be a lively storyteller, and she brings a variety of perspectives to the book, interrogating Roe’s relationship to racial justice, religious liberty, privacy (of course), and the role of science in public life. 

Part biography of the author’s mother and their neighbor and part history of the fight for abortion rights and the anti-sterilization campaign in New York State, the book is also a portrait of two overlapping and divergent movements for reproductive rights and justice from the 1960s through the 1980s.

Kornbluh is especially diligent about showing why certain parts of the struggle for reproductive justice mattered to different constituencies of women and how white middle-class women were often blinded by their own privileges.

This is down-in-the-trenches social activism history at its best. 

What happens to women who can’t get the abortions that they want or need? For most of our history, the answers were anecdotal and speculative until Diana Greene Foster and a team of fellow researchers followed one thousand women, some of whom obtained abortions, some of whom could not do so.

The answer is a triumph of social science reporting. By almost every measure, those women who could not access abortion care fared worse ten years later, and many of the years in between, than those women who were able to make their own choices about their bodies and their lives.

What I loved about the book was how transparent Foster was about the research design for the study and how intertwined she showed that abortion is in so many aspects of women’s lives. 

In trying to exclude religion from the public sphere, most critics argue that religion precludes reasoned discussion: that secular arguments are rational and religious arguments are not.

Ronald Dworkin correctly recognizes that arguments over moral issues ultimately rest upon personal values, whether expressed in secular or religious terms. I love how he brilliantly breaks down arguments over such emotionally and morally controversial issues as abortion and euthanasia and then tries to identify the values relied on by both sides in how they attempt to justify their position.

In doing so, he makes two critical points: first, fundamental secular beliefs ultimately rest upon a religious-like understanding of the world, and second, in engaging with the thoughtful believer and secularist, it is possible to find common values. He uses the idea of the "sacredness of life" as one such meeting point shared by each.

Every American needs to understand the current Supreme Court's aggressive new “supermajority.” 

The Court has quickly implemented far-reaching changes, eliminating reproductive rights; overturning gun safety laws; and sharply limiting the government’s authority to respond to crises ranging from COVID to climate change.

Michael Waldman brilliantly analyzes the new Court. He vividly places it in historical context, and, drawing on past eras, highlights possible democratic responses. In addition to illuminating the current moment, the book is a superb, readable, and highly informative one-volume history of the Supreme Court.

In 1965, the Supreme Court ruled for the first time that the Constitution guaranteed a “right to privacy” as it struck down Connecticut’s longstanding ban on the sale and use of birth control. (Amazing trivia: the state legislator who drafted the state’s 1879 anti-contraceptive law was P.T. Barnum.) Garrow’s history recounts the decades-long efforts of Connecticut activists to challenge the restriction, and how lawyers shifted their choice of plaintiffs from doctors asserting the law interfered with their ability to provide medical advice to married women claiming a right to privacy within their marriages. In the years following Griswold v. Connecticut, the Supreme Court gradually expanded that novel privacy doctrine, extending it to the intimate decisions of unmarried people, and eventually to cover the right to an abortion with Roe v. Wade.