Gay Parenting, Science, and the Well-Being of Children: A Surprising Vindication of the Regnerus Study


Children thrive in the context of stable, intact biological families—an ideal that remains statistically and morally significant.

In 2012, sociologist Mark Regnerus published a bombshell study that challenged the prevailing narrative in academic circles about same-sex parenting. His findings? Children raised by same-sex parents, particularly lesbian couples, experienced significantly worse outcomes on numerous metrics compared to those raised by their married, biological mother and father.

The backlash was immediate and severe. Regnerus was accused of bigotry, his study denounced as pseudoscience, and attempts were made to have it retracted. But more than a decade later, the dust has settled enough for a deeper look. And what a surprise (to some) that deeper look brings.


A Study Stress-Tested by Time

Science advances through testing—Regnerus’s study held up under millions of analytical variations.

The recent multiverse analysis conducted by Cornell sociologists Cristobal Young and Erin Cumberworth takes a new and rigorous approach to contested social science studies. Their technique? Run every possible reasonable permutation of analytic choices—literally millions of combinations—to see whether a study’s conclusions hold up across models.

It’s like subjecting the study to every imaginable stress test. And Regnerus’s study passed.

Not one of the more than two million significant models contradicted his core finding: children raised in intact biological families consistently fared better than those raised by same-sex parents.

To put that in perspective, this kind of consistency is almost unheard of in social science research, where findings often vary widely depending on how the data is modeled. 


What Was the Regnerus Study, and Why Did It Matter?

Regnerus’s 2012 New Family Structures Study (NFSS) surveyed nearly 3,000 young adults, making it by far the largest and most representative dataset available at the time on the topic.

Unlike earlier studies—which had tiny sample sizes (often fewer than 50 children) and often relied on parents self-reporting at Pride events or through gay-themed media ads—the NFSS used a random national sample. It included 248 individuals who had been raised by parents in a same-sex relationship.

His findings were sobering:

  • Children raised by lesbian parents fared worse on 25 of 40 outcomes
  • Those raised by gay men fared worse on 11

The problems were wide-ranging: depression, lower educational attainment, greater reliance on public assistance, higher unemployment, more criminal involvement, increased sexual abuse, and unstable relationships.


The Immediate Backlash

The response to Regnerus was not scientific critique—it was ideological suppression.

The study ignited fury. Hundreds of academics and activists called for its retraction. Regnerus’s reputation was dragged through the mud.

But rather than retreat, he did what good scientists are supposed to do: he made his dataset public and invited others to analyze it.

Two major critiques emerged:

  1. Cheng and Powell argued that many individuals Regnerus classified as raised by same-sex parents had spent little time in such households.
  2. Michael Rosenfeld of Stanford insisted that Regnerus hadn’t adequately adjusted for family transitions, which are known to negatively impact child outcomes.

Regnerus countered that instability wasn’t a separate factor to isolate—it was intrinsic to same-sex parenting patterns.


The Critics Were Stacking the Deck

Young and Cumberworth found that both critiques had made analytical choices that reduced sample sizes—making it harder to detect statistical effects. They also committed what the authors call a “key mistake”: focusing only on whether the effects were statistically significant, rather than measuring how large the effects were.

In plain terms, the critics said, “We didn’t find a difference,” but they didn’t report whether their methods actually suppressed real effects.

The LGBT parenting effect was not only still there—it was strong and persistent.

When the new analysts combined family instability and parental structure in the same models, they found that:

  • Both factors independently contribute to negative outcomes
  • The problem wasn’t just instability; same-sex parenting itself mattered

Their conclusion: Regnerus’s central finding is not the product of statistical games. It’s a stubborn social fact.


The Problem Isn’t the Data—It’s the Ethics Police

Regnerus wasn’t condemned because his methods were flawed. He was condemned because his findings were morally unacceptable to the academic gatekeepers.

As sociologists Judith Stacey and Timothy Biblarz—both of whom support same-sex parenting—admitted in their review of the literature: “Ideological pressures constrain intellectual development in this field.”

Weak studies claiming “no difference”—even with tiny, biased samples—were waved through. But Regnerus’s robust, random-sample study was met with outrage.

For example, Nathaniel Frank called for a peer-reviewed study’s retraction simply because its findings were “irresponsible.” Not incorrect. Not unsound. Just inconvenient.

What happens to science when truth becomes subordinate to ideological comfort?


Enter Jessica Bates

Jessica Bates was barred from adopting because of her Christian convictions. The Ninth Circuit rightly intervened.

A recent case shows how this ideological pressure is spilling into public policy. Jessica Bates, a widowed mom of five in Oregon, was barred from adopting because she couldn’t, in good conscience, affirm gender ideology.

The Ninth Circuit rightly found that Oregon’s policy likely violated her First Amendment rights—both free speech and religious liberty.

These kinds of ideological litmus tests are spreading in progressive states. And they are excluding faithful Christians from the foster care and adoption systems—hurting the very children who most need stable, loving homes.


Is Bias Against Christian Agencies Widespread?

Yes. Consider this partial list:

  • Catholic Charities in Boston, San Francisco, and Illinois shut down adoption services rather than violate their beliefs.
  • Philadelphia’s foster care contracts were rescinded over similar issues.

Ideological conformity is being prioritized over the welfare of children. That should concern all of us.


A Word to Fellow Christians: This Isn’t About “Being Nice”

Christian compassion must remain anchored to biblical truth—especially when it comes to the care of children.

Many well-meaning Christians feel torn on this issue—not because they lack conviction, but because they want to be compassionate and avoid offense. That instinct is admirable.

But for Christians especially, our compassion must be tethered to Truth, it must be rightly ordered. If we say we care about vulnerable children, then we have to be willing to ask some hard questions about what truly serves their long-term well-being.

Are we prioritizing what’s best for children—or what makes us feel better about being inclusive and affirming toward adults? Have we considered whether the assumptions behind some of the arguments for same-sex adoption actually hold up?

  • Do we really believe that if gay couples are not permitted to adopt, these children will simply be left without homes? That assumes no other families—especially traditional ones—are willing to step forward, which is a questionable and pessimistic assumption.
  • And are same-sex couples disproportionately adopting the most difficult-to-place children—those who are older, have special needs, or come from severely traumatic backgrounds—or, like many prospective parents, do they generally prefer younger, more adoptable children?
  • If simply increasing the pool of potential adoptive parents is the highest good, then why do we draw any lines at all? Why ask questions like: Should society allow adoption by men who think they are women? Or by unmarried throuples? Or by persons with histories of instability? The very fact that we do ask these questions reveals that we intuitively understand—at some level—that not every arrangement is equally good for children. So the real question is: what standard are we using to decide?

We need a rational, child-centered adoption policy—one that is guided by a clear set of priorities, with the well-being of children at the top of the list. Policies should ask: What kind of environment best supports a child’s development? What family structure most reliably offers stability, love, and the complementarity of male and female parenting? These should be our guiding questions—not adult preferences or ideological conformity.

And we should not be ashamed to say that the ideal remains a married mother and father.


Christian Teaching on Marriage and Parenting

Biblical anthropology and Church tradition affirm the unique significance of a mother and father in child formation.

From a biblical perspective, marriage isn’t primarily about adult fulfillment. It’s about covenant, fruitfulness, and forming children into the image of Christ.

“Male and female he created them…” (Gen. 1:27)

Every child has the right, where possible, to a mother and a father. Church tradition has long affirmed this—and so does the data.

As Christians, we must remember: we are not our own. Our bodies, our desires, our families—all belong to God. Adoption and foster care are sacred callings, not platforms for adult affirmation.


The Stakes Are High

Let’s not forget what’s at stake here. When Christian individuals and faith-based organizations—like Catholic Charities—are excluded from the adoption and foster care space simply because they uphold traditional moral convictions, it’s not just anti-religious bigotry. It’s also a disservice to the very children we claim to care about.

We can’t say children matter most while simultaneously banning some of the most stable, loving homes from even being considered—just because they don’t conform to a particular ideological agenda. Traditional Christian belief is not a disqualifying liability.

So, to my Christian brothers and sisters I say: Let’s not waffle. Let’s not shrink back out of fear of being unpopular. The call to speak the truth in love does not vanish simply because our culture finds that truth inconvenient or offensive. In fact, those are precisely the moments when the Church’s voice is most essential.

The data is on our side. More importantly, so is the truth.

Children deserve the best we can give them. And that means standing for what is good, even when it costs us.

Sources: Public Discourse & Alliance Defending Freedom

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Borders and Brotherhood: A Catholic Look at Immigration and the Ordo Amoris


In our polarized moment, immigration policy is one of those topics that easily divides sincere believers. Some Christians—often from a more progressive persuasion—emphasize our Gospel duty to welcome the stranger. Others, more traditionally minded, stress the importance of preserving cultural integrity, the rule of law, and the common good of the political community. Both instincts, in truth, have a place within the Christian moral tradition.

But how do we hold them together?

Few writers today handle this balance better than Edward Feser, a philosophy professor and traditional Catholic thinker whose work I’ve followed and appreciated for years. In two recent articles —“A Catholic Defense of Enforcing Immigration Laws” and his follow-up, “Catholicism and Immigration: A Rejoinder to Cory and Sweeney”— Feser offers a deeply rooted, humane, and intellectually serious summary of the Catholic Church’s teaching on immigration. It’s a perspective worth hearing, especially for those who may assume that any restriction on immigration is incompatible with Christian love.

Order in Love: Why Family and Nation Matter

Feser’s starting point is an ancient and biblical idea: the ordo amoris, or the “order of love.” This principle, affirmed by St. Augustine and systematized by St. Thomas Aquinas, holds that while we are called to love all people, we are especially obligated to care first for those closest to us—our family, our neighbors, our nation.

As Aquinas puts it, “other things being equal, one ought to succor those rather who are most closely connected with us.” (Summa II-II.31.3)

This isn’t nationalism run amok—it’s common sense grounded in the reality of our created nature. We are not abstract global citizens first and foremost. We are embodied creatures born into specific families, places, and cultures. As Pope John Paul II argued, both family and nation are “natural societies” that shape and nurture us in essential ways. Patriotism—rightly ordered—isn’t idolatry. It’s a virtue connected to the Fourth Commandment: honoring your father and mother.

Welcoming the Stranger: A Real but Qualified Duty

Now, the Church is equally clear that we do have duties to the foreigner in need. The Catechism (2241) affirms that “the more prosperous nations are obliged, to the extent they are able, to welcome the foreigner in search of security and livelihood.”

But—and this is the part often overlooked—that obligation is not absolute. The same paragraph goes on to say that political authorities may “make the exercise of the right to immigrate subject to various juridical conditions,” especially with respect to the immigrant’s duty to obey the laws and respect the heritage of the host country.

Popes Benedict XVI and John Paul II both affirmed this prudential balance. The Church does not endorse “open borders.” Rather, it entrusts governments with the responsibility of weighing many legitimate concerns: economic stability, public safety, cultural cohesion, and social peace.

To quote Pope John Paul II: “Even highly developed countries are not always able to assimilate all those who emigrate….certainly, the exercise of such a right (to emigrate) is to be regulated, because practicing it indiscriminately may do harm and be detrimental to the common good of the community that receives the migrant.”

Prudence Is Not Relativism

Feser is careful to point out that recognizing a range of morally licit policy options is not relativism. Rather, it’s an application of the virtue of prudence—something Aquinas sees as essential to moral reasoning in complex situations. Christians of good will can, and often do, come to different conclusions about immigration policy while still honoring the same moral principles.

But what we can’t do is selectively quote the Church to support one side of the argument while ignoring the rest. Feser’s articles are a call to integrity—a plea to read the Church’s teaching in full, not just the parts that support our preferred politics.

The Forgotten Vice: Oikophobia

Feser also makes an important cultural observation. While Scripture rightly emphasizes love for the stranger—precisely because the default human temptation is tribal exclusion—our modern Western problem often cuts the other way. Many today (especially in elite circles) seem embarrassed by patriotism and suspicious of national loyalty. Philosopher Roger Scruton called this “oikophobia”—a fear or hatred of home. In our desire to care for others, we risk forgetting that we also have duties to our own.

This is not just a political point. It’s a theological one. Love must be ordered. We are to care for the poor and the outsider—but not in ways that undermine the health of the family, or the peace and stability of the nation. The ordo amoris demands both compassion and clarity.

A Word to My Progressive Friends

If you lean progressive and are reading this, I want to thank you for caring about the dignity of immigrants. That concern is a beautiful reflection of God’s heart. But I also want to invite you to consider Feser’s argument—not as a reactionary screed, but as a thoughtful, deeply Catholic appeal to moral coherence.

You may not agree with every policy endorsed by conservatives. I don’t either. But don’t let personality or partisanship keep you from considering the moral seriousness behind traditional immigration arguments.

I’m including links to both of Feser’s articles. I hope you’ll read them—not necessarily to be convinced, but at least to be more fully informed.

“The entirety of Church teaching—not only what it says about welcoming the stranger, but also what it says about the limitations on that obligation—must inform our judgments.”

— Edward Feser


LINKS TO READ:


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When Bodies Don’t Matter: The Gnostic Temptation of Our Age

In recent years, I started to notice a common thread running through several major cultural flashpoints: homosexuality, transgenderism, AI, and Covid. At first glance, these topics seem disconnected. But the more I examined them, the more I saw a hidden connection—a way of thinking that undergirds them all. That underlying theme is an ancient Christian heresy: Gnosticism.

What Is Gnosticism?

Gnosticism teaches that salvation comes through secret knowledge (gnosis) and that the physical world is flawed or even evil. In this view, the true self is immaterial, and our bodies are little more than prisons. Early Christians rejected this heresy forcefully. The Apostle John, for instance, insisted that anyone who denies Jesus came in the flesh is not of God (2 John 7).1For many deceivers have gone out into the world, those who do not confess the coming of Jesus Christ in the flesh. Such a one is the deceiver and the antichrist.

Today, Gnosticism hasn’t disappeared. It’s just morphed into new forms.

Gnosticism and the Sexual Revolution

Take homosexuality and transgenderism. The underlying belief here is that our bodies don’t matter—or at least, they shouldn’t have the final say in who we are. If someone’s desires conflict with their biology, then biology must yield. In transgenderism especially, the body is treated not just as irrelevant but as an obstacle to overcome. It’s a mindset that says, “What I feel on the inside is who I truly am—my body just hasn’t caught up yet.”

This isn’t a scientific outlook. Ironically, it clashes with Darwinian evolution, which says our physical traits exist for a reason. Our anatomy speaks to our purpose. Even noted biologist-atheist Richard Dawkins has made similar observations, emphasizing that male and female bodies evolved for reproduction, and that denying the biological basis of sex is anti-scientific. He certainly doesn’t frame this as a critique of Gnosticism—but the resonance is striking. 

Gnostic thinking rejects the biological basis entirely. It tells us that truth is found in the internal self, not the external form.

Virtual Reality, AI, and the Disembodied Future

This disembodied way of thinking also shows up in technology. Virtual reality is now marketed not just as entertainment but as an alternative to real life. Marc Andreessen, one of Silicon Valley’s top voices, once argued that those who value the physical world are simply enjoying their “reality privilege.” For most people, he claims, the digital world offers more meaning, more justice, and more joy. In a widely shared 2021 interview, Andreessen framed virtuality as a more equitable frontier than physical reality, arguing that investing in digital life is not only desirable but ethically necessary for those lacking “reality privilege.”

Mary Harrington, a feminist critic of transhumanism, connects this to the rise in trans identities. Kids who grow up immersed in virtual spaces—from Minecraft to Instagram—come to believe that the body is endlessly editable. If you can modify your online avatar, why not your real one?

She labels this phenomenon “Meat Lego Gnosticism”, vividly depicting a mindset where our bodies are deconstructed and reassembled, like LEGO blocks, at our own discretion rather than respected as integral, given wholes.

Artificial intelligence takes this logic even further. Some experts now openly ask whether unplugging an AI that claims to be conscious would be morally equivalent to killing a human. Why? Because if humans are just biological computers, then a silicon-based computer might be a person, too. Once again, embodiment is dismissed as unnecessary—or even oppressive.

Christianity Is Embodied

The problem is that this is profoundly anti-Christian. From Genesis to Revelation, the Bible insists on the goodness of the body. Creation was called “very good.” Adam and Eve were given bodies with sexual differentiation and purpose. The Law regulated food, clothing, and ritual purity—bodily matters. Circumcision, anointing, sacrifices, baptisms—these are not incidental to the faith. They are expressions of it.

And then came the Incarnation. After creating bodies, and calling them good, God took on a body. He didn’t just give us ideas or a philosophy—He lived, suffered, bled, and died. He rose again with a body, and He gave us bodily sacraments: bread and wine, water and oil.

Christianity is not a disembodied information exchange. It is a flesh-and-blood, incarnational way of life. When we start treating livestreams as a sufficient replacement for church, or when we reduce Christian teaching to mere data transfer, we’re slipping into a Gnostic mindset.


Many in the tech world find the very idea that our nature has been given to us—rather than designed by us—to be a kind of offense. Yuval Harari, for example, boldly declares, “Organisms are algorithms,” and envisions a future where human life is no longer shaped by divine design but by human reengineering: “Science is replacing evolution by natural selection with evolution by intelligent design—not the intelligent design of some God above the clouds, but our intelligent design.”

For the modern mind, it’s galling to be told that our identity, limits, and even our flesh have been handed to us. The Christian worldview says we are fearfully and wonderfully made; the new Gnosticism says we are merely constructed—and ought to be reconstructed at will.

Why It Matters Now

Covid accelerated this shift. We were suddenly told that human bodies were dangerous. The ideal became disembodied—stay home, go virtual, avoid touch. What shocked me most was how quickly many Christians accepted this. The body, once central to Christian worship and community, became an afterthought.

But this wasn’t a new temptation. Gnosticism has always haunted the Church. What’s new is how persuasive it’s become in the age of digital technology and identity politics.

When Christians start believing that the body is incidental to the faith—or to being human—we’re not just making a theological mistake. We’re surrendering to the spirit of the age. We’re forgetting that Jesus rose with a body, that the Church is a Body, and that salvation is not just for our souls but for our whole selves.

Embodied Discipleship

What does it mean, then, to resist the Gnostic pull? It means leaning into our createdness. It means honoring our bodies as gifts. It means worshipping in person when we can, serving one another physically, and refusing to reduce faith to a collection of doctrines floating in the cloud.

To be Christian is to be human in the fullest sense—mind, soul, and body. Our world doesn’t need more clever ideas. It needs the witness of embodied lives: people who live out truth in their flesh and bones, who love with their hands and feet, and who follow a Savior who did the same.

Gnosticism says salvation is found in escaping the body. The Gospel says it’s found in the Word made flesh.

And that makes all the difference.

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