Can a person champion one rule in public and live by another in private? Jens Spahn seems to think so. Together with his partner, he has become a father through surrogacy in the United States, an option that remains illegal in Germany, in part because of politicians like him.
Back in 2015, Spahn told GQ that, as a gay man and a Christian, he found it very difficult to reconcile himself with the notion of a rented womb. It was a clear position, stated plainly, and it did not stay confined to a magazine interview.
A minister who helped keep the ban in place
From 2018 onward, Spahn served as Germany’s health minister, which placed the surrogacy question squarely within his remit. In 2020, his ministry argued that surrogacy could pose a risk to the welfare of the child. Then, in February 2026, the CDU, the party whose parliamentary group Spahn now leads, passed a motion at its party conference in Stuttgart backing the continued prohibition of surrogacy, citing ethical, legal and practical concerns.
Those are the facts. What makes them sting is the timing.
A dream only a few can afford
Spahn’s decision arrives at a moment when public trust in politicians is thin, the national mood is tense, and many household budgets are stretched to breaking point. The CDU has not helped that atmosphere. It has trimmed social benefits, chased votes on the hard right, cut funding for initiatives such as “Demokratie leben,” and stirred up debates over flying the rainbow flag at the Bundestag. Into that climate, Spahn has brought a child whose conception abroad is estimated to have cost well over 100,000 euros. Very few people in Germany could ever manage that.
I know couples, both straight and gay, who cannot conceive naturally. For them, a legal and affordable surrogacy option would be the greatest gift imaginable. It is a happiness I would wish for Spahn too. That is exactly why it feels so questionable that he has taken, in private, a route he has denied others through his politics. In doing so, he hands ammunition to those who claim a politician’s word counts for nothing, even when it is written in black and white. It was Alice Weidel who used almost those words about Friedrich Merz last summer.
Self-interest and a credibility problem
As a queer person, I learned early that sexual orientation and political allegiance do not always march together. Some people vote for right-wing politicians even while belonging to a minority those politicians target. But there is something both self-serving and hollow about a gay politician who, on one hand, bears responsibility for blocking certain couples from becoming parents, and on the other hand quietly sidesteps those very rules for himself.
Even in kindergarten the principle was simple. Break the rules and you do not get to play. So what happens when someone cheats and still walks away the winner? As a child, you sat out a round. As a politician, it would mean stepping down.
Spahn himself may have put it best years ago, when he reflected that accepting he might never become a father by natural means would demand a great deal of humility, and that he was not sure he could summon it.
