Bradley Pierce has done much good for the cause of abolition. His legal work has served as a foundation for equal protection legislation in multiple states, and his desire to uphold justice with clarity and mercy is evident. In a recent article, Bradley defends the inclusion of narrowly tailored duress clauses in equal protection bills—provisions that excuse a mother from prosecution if she aborts her child while under threat of imminent death or serious bodily harm.
His concern is caring, his tone measured, and his intent sincere. But the argument is built on a critical error—not necessarily in case law, but in the understanding of magistracy.
This is not merely a legal disagreement over terminology. It is a theological disagreement over authority, responsibility, and justice. The fundamental problem is this: duress cannot excuse abdication of office, and a mother is not merely a private citizen—she is a magistrate over her child.
Interposition Is the Duty of the Lesser Magistrate
The doctrine of the lesser magistrate teaches:
• When a higher authority commands evil or permits injustice, the lesser magistrate is not merely permitted but duty-bound to interpose.
• The closer the jurisdiction, the greater the responsibility. A sheriff must interpose for his county. A father must interpose for his household.
And a mother—who carries within her the life of her child—is the immediate and personal magistrate of that child. If a governor is accountable for protecting citizens within his state, how much more is a mother responsible for the life within her own womb?
If a mother is:
• A self-governing individual under God’s law,
• A civil participant in a constitutional republic “of the people,”
• And the direct magistrate over her preborn child,
then duress cannot absolve her of the duty to protect. Even under threat, she is morally—and arguably legally—bound to interpose on behalf of the child in her womb.
In America, we live in a constitutional republic. This means that authority is not concentrated in a king, but distributed among the people themselves. Each citizen bears delegated authority under God and law. This is why a president cannot simply enter your home without invitation or a warrant—because in your household, you are the magistrate.
The same principle applies to a mother. The life within her womb is under her immediate jurisdiction. Just as a sheriff is accountable for his county and a father for his household, so a mother is accountable for her child. To abdicate that role, even under threat, is to betray the very office she holds by nature and by God’s law.
The Magistrate’s Duty Is to Die, Not to Kill
William Blackstone famously wrote that a man “ought rather to die himself than escape by the murder of an innocent.” This principle has shaped just law for centuries and is rightly applied in homicide statutes that do not permit duress as a defense for murder.
Bradley attempts to draw a distinction here. He argues that since the child in the womb is physiologically dependent on the mother, if the mother is killed for refusing to abort, the child dies too. Therefore, the mother is not saving herself at the child’s expense—both would die. In that case, he suggests, the rationale behind denying a duress defense no longer applies.
But this re-frames abortion as triage, not treason.
The lesser magistrate’s duty is not to calculate who will live—it is to protect the one under their care at all costs. If a magistrate dies in the act of interposition, he has fulfilled his office. If he takes the life of the one he was called to defend, even to save himself, he has abandoned it.
The same principle must apply to the mother. Her life and her child’s may be bound together—but the moral obligation still runs in one direction: to interpose, not to comply.
Coercion vs. Duress—A Crucial Distinction
One of the most critical errors in Bradley’s piece is the conflation of coercion and duress. These are not interchangeable terms. They represent morally and legally distinct categories, and failing to separate them creates confusion in both justice and mercy.
To clarify, we must distinguish:
1. Physical Coercion
This is when a woman is acted upon against her will. For example:
• A woman is held down during a surgical abortion.
• She is forcibly drugged or restrained.
• Someone administers abortion pills without her consent.
In such cases, the woman’s will is overridden. Her body is used, but she did not govern the act. She is a victim, not a perpetrator. This is not homicide on her part.
2. Volitional Coercion (commonly called duress)
This is when a woman is threatened with consequences—even severe ones like death—but is still required to make a decision. For example:
• “If you don’t take the pill, I’ll kill you.”
• “Abort this baby or I’ll beat you senseless.”
This is not physical force. This is psychological or existential pressure intended to compel her choice.
The key difference: physical coercion removes agency. Volitional coercion pressures it.
Volitional coercion is not morally neutral. The woman chooses abortion, even under pressure, and thereby acts against her duty as a magistrate. Her circumstances may evoke sympathy. But the child is still dead—and the one with legal and moral jurisdiction over that child made the decision.
To excuse that act in statute is to undermine the moral architecture of protection itself.
Equal Protection Excludes Duress
If we believe the preborn are human and deserving of equal protection, then the law must speak with clarity—especially to the one person in the abortion act with jurisdiction over the victim.
Equal protection means that the laws against homicide apply to everyone equally—including to mothers. If a father or doctor may not kill a child under threat, neither may the mother.
This does not mean there is no place for mercy. A prosecutor may decline to press charges. A jury may recommend leniency. A governor may issue a pardon. But none of these merciful responses require that we encode partiality into the law itself.
To include a duress clause in abortion law is to say:
“If you are afraid enough, you may abdicate your duty to protect.”
That is not justice. That is a betrayal of the child.
Let the Law Uphold Duty, and Let Mercy Remain Mercy
A mother is not a passive observer in abortion. She is not merely a victim of circumstance. She is the one entrusted with immediate governance over the most vulnerable human being in existence. She is the magistrate. She is the one who must say no when others say yes.
To enshrine duress as a legal defense in abortion law is to tell mothers that their fear matters more than their duty—and more than their child’s life.
But if we truly believe in equal protection, the law must hold firm:
• Physical coercion is not her crime.
• Volitional choice, even under threat, is.
Let juries weigh the details.
Let mercy be shown case by case.
But let the statute itself speak with no partiality:
A child’s life is not less valuable because his mother is afraid. And a magistrate’s duty is not suspended by fear.
Equal protection demands courage—not compromise.
And it demands that we protect every child—even from the trembling hands of those called to guard them.
