This article is the sixth in CPJ’s Ink & Impact series featuring young writers from across the country. In today’s political climate, often marked by cynicism and despair, CPJ’s annual Ink & Impact conference helps Christian young people become messengers of hope. In a world dominated by digital distractions, Ink & Impact develops writers who can articulate complex political topics in an approachable, nuanced way to inform the public. The views and opinions reflected in these articles are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official position of CPJ.
In late 2025, the U.S. National Highway Traffic Safety Administration unveiled its first anatomically representative female crash test dummy, the THOR-05F, a long-overdue development given that women are more likely to sustain serious injury or die in motor vehicle collisions. Until that point, crash safety standards had relied almost exclusively on a dummy modeled after a 5-foot-9-inch, 171-pound male body. This recent development is indicative of a societal blind spot that has regrettably persisted-one that is present not just in the automotive industry, but also in the world of medicine.
For far too long, the standard of care in medicine has treated women as smaller men, using male physiology as the normative reference for diagnosis and treatment. In doing so, women’s health has been reduced to a narrow focus on reproductive organs as the primary site of biological difference. This one-size-fits-all approach to healthcare, termed “bikini medicine,” has created substantial gaps in knowledge about women’s health. The structural bias underlying it has produced dangerous consequences in both clinical medicine and public health contexts, leading to preventable harm and, in some cases, death among women.
For example, in 2013, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) recognized that women metabolize the sedative Ambien (zolpidem) differently than men, and subsequently halved the recommended dose for women. This change followed numerous reports of adverse effects among women, including sleepwalking, sleep-eating, and sleep-driving. Similarly, in 2016, the American Heart Association issued its first scientific statement addressing heart attacks in women, finally acknowledging that women can present with symptoms distinct from those observed in men, such as jaw and back pain. Even when recognized, these symptoms are clinically labeled “atypical,” reflecting their deviation from male-centered clinical norms.
Although these examples underscore the longstanding marginalization of women’s biology, they also signal the beginning of a slow but meaningful paradigm shift toward recognizing crucial sex-based differences in disease, health, and development. Nowhere is this shift more apparent than in recent years’ growing attention to women’s midlife health, particularly menopause. What some have termed the “Menopause Movement” has gained momentum in the United States. In July 2026, Congress introduced the Menopausal Workers’ Fairness Act, signaling growing legislative recognition that menopause-related workplace accommodations deserve federal attention. The international body of scientific literature on the topic has also grown. Menopause, the natural end to menstruation clinically defined by 12 consecutive months without a period, is preceded by a transitional period called perimenopause. Most often arising between the ages of 40 to 60, perimenopause involves fluctuating hormone levels resulting in a diverse array of symptoms. By far the most commonly experienced symptoms are hot flashes and night sweats, termed vasomotor symptoms (VMS). An estimated 50% to 70% of perimenopausal women report moderate to severe VMS, often persisting for several years. VMS have been linked to poor sleep quality, depression and anxiety, brain fog, and insomnia, resulting in increased absences and healthcare utilization, reduced work productivity, and early retirement.
Though this growing attention gives us hope, awareness alone has not yet translated into meaningful, widespread change for menopausal women. Women comprise a slight majority of the U.S. population, nearly half of the workforce, and have historically made up a majority of church congregations. Yet a predictable life transition universally experienced by women is routinely overlooked. This neglect is both surprising and difficult to justify.
Creation: A Model of Anticipatory Care
Neglecting to provide adequate care during such a foreseeable life stage falls short of the kind of loving kindness we are called to extend to one another. Creation itself offers an alternative model of how to care for ourselves and one another—these fragile, intricate, anatomical miracles formed from dust. Before humans even appear in the Genesis narrative, God established a verdant paradise for us. In the first five days, God is hard at work creating light and darkness, land and sea, vegetation and living creatures, anticipating human needs before they arise—rest, food, meaningful work, companionship. This pattern reveals a form of care rooted in foresight and provision. Eden was intentionally ordered before we arrived. As image-bearers, we are called to embody that same proactive love in the structures we build and sustain. We have both the capacity and the duty to enact this loving kindness within our societies.
The Fall: A Great Gulf Fixed Between Ideal and Reality
Yet the Fall fractured this pattern of anticipatory care, and with it, our image-bearing capacity to extend proactive love has too often evaded us. When sin entered the world, it distorted not only our relationships with God, but also with one another–warping our ability to see and value each other’s needs. We see this distortion when male physiology is the standard, obscuring our ability to notice unique differences between men and women–whether it be their anatomical responses to car crashes, differential experiences with pharmaceutical drugs, clinical presentations of heart attacks, or the way they experience aging. We see it, too, when pregnancy is the defining measure of womanhood, casting fertility as paramount and making it easier to prepare women for nine months of their lives that they may or may not experience while overlooking the more than 30 years of postmenopause they are guaranteed to experience. Rather than anticipating women’s needs across their life course, our systems too often respond only after those needs become impossible to ignore.
Menopause as a Public Justice Issue
Applied to menopause, the contrast between creation’s model of anticipatory care and our current reality becomes clear. Public justice—the principle that government, civil society, and individuals each carry distinct but coordinated responsibilities to promote human flourishing—calls us to recognize menopause not as an individual burden to be endured, but as a shared societal responsibility to be anticipated. A just society focused on human flourishing would prepare women for this predictable life transition rather than penalize them for experiencing it. When we come to see menopause as a normal developmental transition, no different from an infant learning language or a teenager reaching puberty, we see clearly the gap that exists between our lived biological realities and our societal structures. We see it, too, as a public justice issue, one that calls for proper policy reforms that anticipate women’s biological development and protect their dignity.
Yet current systems have not kept pace. Workplace protections in the United States, such as the Pregnancy Discrimination Act and the Americans with Disabilities Act, leave menopausal women in a gray area without clear recognition or support. The Society for Women’s Health Research found that 61% of employees reported no formal menopause-specific policies or resources were in place, and 59% of women reported feeling uncomfortable asking for accommodations. As a result, many women experience diminished well-being, reduced productivity, or are pushed out of the workforce altogether.
A Shared Responsibility
Addressing this gap requires a shift from reactive to anticipatory justice—and each institution has a distinct role to play. Governments should establish baseline protections and guidance for menopause-related workplace accommodations, similar to pregnancy accommodations, to protect women’s health and economic participation. Policies could include flexible scheduling, work-from-home options, paid time off for health-related expenses, and workforce training and education for supervisors and staff. Businesses, in turn, should exceed these minimums to foster truly supportive environments. These are not extraordinary measures; rather, they are reasonable responses to a predictable phase of life affecting more than half the population.
At the same time, churches and faith-based communities have a unique role to play. Beyond policy, they can address the relational and spiritual dimensions of menopause by reducing stigma, offering pastoral care, and cultivating spaces where women are seen and supported. Individuals, too, bear responsibility—as coworkers, leaders, family members, and voters—to normalize accommodations and advocate for more humane systems. They can also offer care in simple, tangible ways: praying with and for women, listening without judgment or minimizing their experiences, keeping them company through sleepless nights, running errands so they can rest, taking on household chores or arranging a cleaning service, or dropping off a meal. These acts may seem small, but they can communicate something significant: “you do not have to carry this alone.”
Ultimately, menopause exposes a broader disconnect between our biological realities and our societal structures. Bridging this gap is not merely a matter of convenience or productivity, but a matter of public justice. By preparing for menopause with the same intentionality reflected in creation—anticipating need, honoring dignity, and practicing true loving kindness—we move closer to a society that honors every stage of every life.
Jordyn Rand is an academic professional interested in using mixed-methods research to love her neighbor and improve outcomes for people on the margins of society. She received her MPH in Maternal, Child, and Adolescent Health from the UC Berkeley School of Public Health and her BA in Psychology from Wheaton College (IL). She lives with her husband, Josiah, and their cat, Siri. In her spare time, she writes on Substack (@jordynr).
Graphic by Center for Public Justice
