When is a religion story not a religion story?

When it covers a major moral question but does not make a connection with obvious religious themes and factual information. Here at GetReligion, we say that these stories are haunted by religion “ghosts. Basically, that’s an elephant in the living room that screams God involvement but the journalist has not been able to connect the dots, or appears to unwilling to do so.

The Atlantic just came out with a very thoughtful story on how Down Syndrome births are being eradicated in Denmark and why that should concern us all. And this feature story is overflowing with ghosts.

Every few weeks or so, Grete Fält-Hansen gets a call from a stranger asking a question for the first time: What is it like to raise a child with Down syndrome?

Sometimes the caller is a pregnant woman, deciding whether to have an abortion. Sometimes a husband and wife are on the line, the two of them in agonizing disagreement. Once, Fält-Hansen remembers, it was a couple who had waited for their prenatal screening to come back normal before announcing the pregnancy to friends and family. “We wanted to wait,” they’d told their loved ones, “because if it had Down syndrome, we would have had an abortion.”

Now, Denmark is known for its liberal abortion policies. In 2017, the Irish Times reported on how the Danish ambassador to Ireland had to state that no, it was not his government’s policy to eradicate all Down Syndrome births by 2030. Keep that in mind.

Back to The Atlantic story:

They called Fält-Hansen after their daughter was born — with slanted eyes, a flattened nose, and, most unmistakable, the extra copy of chromosome 21 that defines Down syndrome. They were afraid their friends and family would now think they didn’t love their daughter — so heavy are the moral judgments that accompany wanting or not wanting to bring a child with a disability into the world.

All of these people get in touch with Fält-Hansen, a 54-year-old schoolteacher, because she heads Landsforeningen Downs Syndrom, or the National Down Syndrome Association, in Denmark, and because she herself has an 18-year-old son, Karl Emil, with Down syndrome.