Trump’s Pro-Life Revolution: Planned Parenthood Defunded, Clinics Shuttered, Pills Surge

Paul Riverbank, 1/24/2026Trump's pro-life policies reshaped abortion access—defunding clinics as abortion pill use surges nationwide.

Not far off, within the largely inaccessible offices of government, there’s a very different hum—a mix of political theater and back-patting. Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy, for example, slides a photo onto social media: his young daughter Valentina, grinning, her Down syndrome now transformed into a point of public pride. “An angel on earth!” Duffy proclaims, crediting the Trump administration for fostering, in his words, “the most pro-life administration in U.S. history.” His post ricochets across news cycles and timelines, picked up by both supporters and wary critics.

What prompts such fanfare? For starters, Congress has managed something pro-life advocates have chased for years: choking off federal funds for Planned Parenthood, at least temporarily. Legislators on both sides wrangled for months before passing a bill that, practically overnight, forced several dozen clinics to either cease providing abortions or shutter outright. If you ask Troy Newman, the outspoken president of Operation Rescue, the upshot is plain: “It’s been a gloriously bad year for Planned Parenthood, which means a banner year for the preborn.” Newman’s group claims that 54 clinics have either closed or stopped handling abortions this year—two-thirds of them tied to Planned Parenthood.

Beyond money and clinic closures, lawmakers have begun tinkering at the edges in other ways. Recent legislation mandates that colleges and universities offer more detailed resources to pregnant students, steering them toward carrying to term as a real, perhaps preferable, choice. Vice President JD Vance has trumpeted this as a turning point. “We’re proud of it because we believe in fighting for life,” he declared to applause, framing the measure as corrective rather than restrictive.

International policy shifted as well, with the administration doubling down on the so-called Mexico City Policy. U.S. foreign aid, Vance told crowds with signature directness, now comes with explicit caveats: any overseas group that so much as counsels abortion loses funding. “We’re going to start blocking every international group that performs or promotes abortion abroad from receiving a dollar of U.S. money,” he announced, drawing a clear line in diplomatic sand.

Even medical research hasn’t escaped scrutiny. The government placed a freeze on research using abortion-derived fetal tissue, prompting National Institutes of Health Director Jay Bhattacharya to stress that this pivot is more about ethics and advances in technology than politics alone. “This decision is about investing in breakthrough technologies more capable of modeling human health and disease,” Bhattacharya explained, keen to present the change as a step forward, not simply backward.

Yet for all the victories, there is a growing sense—even among the pro-life faithful—that these changes don’t touch the root of the issue. While fewer clinics operate, abortions continue—just not always via the old routes. The rise of medication abortion, particularly mifepristone, has transformed local pharmacies and discreet mailboxes into the new front line. Pills, by most counts, are now the dominant method. Lila Rose, who leads the advocacy group Live Action, is blunt in her alarm: “On-demand sale of the abortion pill via our mail system is the biggest public health crisis that we are facing,” she says, her frustration palpable. Emergency rooms, she claims, see countless women suffering severe complications, and regulators, in her view, lag behind the crisis.

There’s frustration among some longtime activists. A columnist for National Review recently sharpened the point: “The only reason abortion opponents are celebrating the closing of abortion clinics is because the abortion industry doesn’t need abortion clinics anymore. Your CVS. Your Walgreens. Your local pharmacy. Those are the abortion clinics now.” The fight, he warned, has shifted well beyond the brick-and-mortar buildings.

The Food and Drug Administration, for its part, hasn’t rushed to catch up. Agency head Dr. Marty Makary maintains that a comprehensive review of mifepristone’s risks and outcomes is in progress, but cautions, “Some people think that study can be done overnight, but a proper study at any university takes time.” Among advocates, patience is in short supply.

From Capitol Hill, policymakers tout the numbers: nearly $800 million once earmarked for abortion providers reclaimed for federal coffers, tougher Title X guidelines that require clinics to pick between government money and offering abortions. Planned Parenthood walked away from millions rather than surrender care options. Still, for advocates like Lila Rose, the appetite for stronger measures—stricter controls on medication abortion, for example—remains unsatisfied. She advocates reinstating rules requiring at least one, if not multiple, doctor’s visits for anyone seeking medication abortion; “There used to be three required doctor’s visits,” she recalls, longing for a system she believes kept more women safe.

For now, the March for Life rolls on. In between speeches, people cluster, sharing stories or hymns that, for a few moments, seem to blunt the chill. Not every marcher is optimistic. Some grumble that too much of the movement’s attention has drifted toward partisan infighting, or toward fixating on personalities over practical solutions. “Women deserve better than abortion,” reads one sign, echoing the historic motto of Feminists for Life. There’s tension here—hopeful celebration, dogged disappointment, and, most of all, questions about what comes next.

If anything is clear, it’s that the fight remains unfinished: The geography of abortion has changed. Where clinics used to shape the battle lines, pills now blur borders. Each state draws its own rules; judges weigh in; and through it all, marchers keep coming back, year after year. The debate over abortion—its meaning, its limits, its place in American life—is nowhere close to settled. For many, victory is a distant, stubborn hope. For others, the battleground is simply shifting shape.

The cold bites a little harder than usual this January morning in Washington, D.C. Spectators and marchers, some huddling with hands jammed deep in pockets, trickle in from different directions, carrying posters high overhead—“Life is a Gift”—as if the words alone could heat the brisk air. The March for Life, now in its 53rd chapter, has become a winter ritual for families, faith leaders, and students, shoulder to shoulder, united by conviction, if not always by experience.Not far off, within the largely inaccessible offices of government, there’s a very different hum—a mix of political theater and back-patting. Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy, for example, slides a photo onto social media: his young daughter Valentina, grinning, her Down syndrome now transformed into a point of public pride. “An angel on earth!” Duffy proclaims, crediting the Trump administration for fostering, in his words, “the most pro-life administration in U.S. history.” His post ricochets across news cycles and timelines, picked up by both supporters and wary critics.What prompts such fanfare? For starters, Congress has managed something pro-life advocates have chased for years: choking off federal funds for Planned Parenthood, at least temporarily. Legislators on both sides wrangled for months before passing a bill that, practically overnight, forced several dozen clinics to either cease providing abortions or shutter outright. If you ask Troy Newman, the outspoken president of Operation Rescue, the upshot is plain: “It’s been a gloriously bad year for Planned Parenthood, which means a banner year for the preborn.” Newman’s group claims that 54 clinics have either closed or stopped handling abortions this year—two-thirds of them tied to Planned Parenthood.Beyond money and clinic closures, lawmakers have begun tinkering at the edges in other ways. Recent legislation mandates that colleges and universities offer more detailed resources to pregnant students, steering them toward carrying to term as a real, perhaps preferable, choice. Vice President JD Vance has trumpeted this as a turning point. “We’re proud of it because we believe in fighting for life,” he declared to applause, framing the measure as corrective rather than restrictive.International policy shifted as well, with the administration doubling down on the so-called Mexico City Policy. U.S. foreign aid, Vance told crowds with signature directness, now comes with explicit caveats: any overseas group that so much as counsels abortion loses funding. “We’re going to start blocking every international group that performs or promotes abortion abroad from receiving a dollar of U.S. money,” he announced, drawing a clear line in diplomatic sand.Even medical research hasn’t escaped scrutiny. The government placed a freeze on research using abortion-derived fetal tissue, prompting National Institutes of Health Director Jay Bhattacharya to stress that this pivot is more about ethics and advances in technology than politics alone. “This decision is about investing in breakthrough technologies more capable of modeling human health and disease,” Bhattacharya explained, keen to present the change as a step forward, not simply backward.Yet for all the victories, there is a growing sense—even among the pro-life faithful—that these changes don’t touch the root of the issue. While fewer clinics operate, abortions continue—just not always via the old routes. The rise of medication abortion, particularly mifepristone, has transformed local pharmacies and discreet mailboxes into the new front line. Pills, by most counts, are now the dominant method. Lila Rose, who leads the advocacy group Live Action, is blunt in her alarm: “On-demand sale of the abortion pill via our mail system is the biggest public health crisis that we are facing,” she says, her frustration palpable. Emergency rooms, she claims, see countless women suffering severe complications, and regulators, in her view, lag behind the crisis.There’s frustration among some longtime activists. A columnist for National Review recently sharpened the point: “The only reason abortion opponents are celebrating the closing of abortion clinics is because the abortion industry doesn’t need abortion clinics anymore. Your CVS. Your Walgreens. Your local pharmacy. Those are the abortion clinics now.” The fight, he warned, has shifted well beyond the brick-and-mortar buildings.The Food and Drug Administration, for its part, hasn’t rushed to catch up. Agency head Dr. Marty Makary maintains that a comprehensive review of mifepristone’s risks and outcomes is in progress, but cautions, “Some people think that study can be done overnight, but a proper study at any university takes time.” Among advocates, patience is in short supply.From Capitol Hill, policymakers tout the numbers: nearly $800 million once earmarked for abortion providers reclaimed for federal coffers, tougher Title X guidelines that require clinics to pick between government money and offering abortions. Planned Parenthood walked away from millions rather than surrender care options. Still, for advocates like Lila Rose, the appetite for stronger measures—stricter controls on medication abortion, for example—remains unsatisfied. She advocates reinstating rules requiring at least one, if not multiple, doctor’s visits for anyone seeking medication abortion; “There used to be three required doctor’s visits,” she recalls, longing for a system she believes kept more women safe.For now, the March for Life rolls on. In between speeches, people cluster, sharing stories or hymns that, for a few moments, seem to blunt the chill. Not every marcher is optimistic. Some grumble that too much of the movement’s attention has drifted toward partisan infighting, or toward fixating on personalities over practical solutions. “Women deserve better than abortion,” reads one sign, echoing the historic motto of Feminists for Life. There’s tension here—hopeful celebration, dogged disappointment, and, most of all, questions about what comes next.If anything is clear, it’s that the fight remains unfinished: The geography of abortion has changed. Where clinics used to shape the battle lines, pills now blur borders. Each state draws its own rules; judges weigh in; and through it all, marchers keep coming back, year after year. The debate over abortion—its meaning, its limits, its place in American life—is nowhere close to settled. For many, victory is a distant, stubborn hope. For others, the battleground is simply shifting shape.