At a trade fair called the Modern Family Show in a luxury London hotel I paid £32 to hear a PowerPoint presentation on how to buy a baby abroad. If you have $150,000 for a full “concierge service”, I was told, you send your embryos to be incubated by a stranger in America. But for a better “price point”, the hot new surrogacy destination, where UK agencies now have shiny clinics, is Mexico.
Mexico has replaced India, which banned foreign surrogacy after village women were corralled into “baby farms”, and Thailand, which followed suit after the infamous case of baby Gammy, a boy with Down’s syndrome rejected by an Australian couple when their Buddhist surrogate refused to abort him. (They took his “normal” twin sister home.) Ukraine was the go-to European surrogacy hub until war made collecting babies tricky, generating reports of despairing western couples but fewer about the women who’d had to leave their own children in danger to give birth in city clinics. Now Georgia is filling Ukraine’s gap.
Britain forbids commercial surrogacy, allowing only “altruistic” arrangements whereby a mother receives expenses (although these have no upper limit). Undoubtedly there are women who love having babies and feel profound satisfaction in bringing joy to childless couples. But underlying our law is an important principle: paying women to gestate another’s child is inherently exploitative. France, Finland, Germany, Iceland and, last year, Italy have banned even altruistic surrogacy for this reason. So why do we still permit babies born of commercial deals between rich couples (plus, increasingly, single men) and impoverished Mexican women to be brought into Britain?
Commercial surrogacy is a dirty business. When I planned to visit Mexico to report on surrogate recruitment, many on the ground warned me of its links to violent human traffickers.
All pregnancies imperil the mother and, according to research by Queen’s University, Canada, gestational surrogacy involving heavy hormone treatment and embryo transfer trebles the risk of complications such as sepsis and pre-eclampsia. Surrogates are also offered bonuses to have riskier caesareans, even if medically unnecessary, for the convenience of western couples booking flights for the birth. Then there is the trauma of surrendering, while brimming with birth hormones, the baby you have carried, often within minutes.
Strange that the same liberals who worry about veal calves or if their coffee is ethically sourced see commercial surrogacy as the next progressive frontier. Gay men, who filled the Modern Family event, increasingly demand the “right” to have genetic children but, inconveniently, this still requires a woman who also has rights.
The global market in commercial surrogacy grows every year: from $14 billion in 2022 to $17.9 billion in 2023, to a projected $129 billion by 2032. At its centre lie two competing notions of rights. The liberal argument for surrogacy — as with assisted dying or prostitution — is that a woman can do with her body what she wishes. But surrogacy is freighted with power and privilege: did any wealthy woman ever birth a child for a poorer family?