Foreskin

by Angela van Son
Spring 2006

I love my husband’s foreskin — and not just for the obvious reason.  It is part of him and he would be incomplete without it.  He was born with it and he will die with it. 

Lucky for him, he wasn’t born here.  Baby boys on this continent don’t usually get to keep theirs.

He was born in the Netherlands, where circumcision is unheard of, except in certain religious communities.  It is so rare in that part of the world, he never saw a circumcised penis until he lived in California as a teenager. 

I asked him once what he thought upon seeing such an odd-looking appendage for the first time.  “Unnatural,” he said,  “and so naked.” He wondered if it hurt to be constantly exposed like that.

Unlike their European counterparts, prized as conduits of pleasure and appreciated for their ability to protect and enhance, North American foreskins don’t get the respect and esteem they deserve — except maybe as raw ingredients in body lotion.

The skin system, egregiously and erroneously referred to as a flap of skin that is casually amputated and unceremoniously tossed in the Biohazardous Waste bin, is vigorously sought after by the biomed industry for its rejuvenating properties. 

Infant foreskins are sold to companies that manufacture everything from insulin to $250-an-ounce face cream.  What does a single foreskin sell for?  Around $35.  It doesn’t seem like fair market value for something that took so much pain and unspeakable trauma to get.

As the shock wears off of realising where the foreskins go, I have questions. 

Are parents informed their son’s foreskins will be sold?

Are they asked permission?

Are other body parts being removed and sold without their knowledge?

Who decides whether or not this is legal?

What are the moral implications of harvesting sexual organs for profit?

Would parents think twice about allowing their son’s genitals to be irreversibly damaged if they knew where his foreskin ended up?

No baby should be made to endure such physical and emotional torture, and certainly not in the name of uniformity and, now, the pursuit of a more youthful appearance.

I, for one, think that remarkable ‘flap of skin’ is far better suited to its original purpose — and I’m thankful my man got to keep his.