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On Dec. 18, Gov. Rick Perry singled out House Bill 109 as one he would be devoting a great deal of time and attention to during the coming session. Perry said the bill would allow “Texans who believe in the sanctity of life” to tell it to the world in “a subtle but meaningful way.”

How subtle? HB 109, sponsored by Rep. Larry Phillips, would greenlight “Choose Life” specialty license plates, giving Texans a chance to oh-so-delicately proclaim their anti-abortion leanings to fellow drivers.

“This is all about promoting adoption as an alternative to abortion,” says Joe Pojman, executive director of the Texas Alliance for Life, who joined Perry at that December news conference after spending the fall touring the state to promote the plates.

For each $30 plate purchased, $22 would go into a Choose Life account. The state would dole out this money to “eligible organizations,” meaning those that do not provide abortions or abortion-related services, and those that do not make referrals to abortion providers. Much of the Choose Life bounty would go toward pregnancy resource centers, also called crisis pregnancy centers, or CPCs. These centers have spawned controversy across the country. A 2006 study by U.S. Rep. Henry Waxman, D-Calif., found that a large majority of CPCs provide inaccurate or misleading information to women seeking advice about unintended pregnancies.

As Sarah Wheat of Planned Parenthood of the Texas Capitol region notes, this state’s “taxpayers already fund pregnancy resource centers very generously.” In 2005, the Legislature began diverting tax dollars toward CPCs for the first time. Texans now pay $2.5 million each year for programs that, more often than not, provide no medical services, fail to screen for cervical cancer, oppose birth control, and fail to offer advice for preventing future crisis pregnancies.

Perry, co-opting the language of his political opponents, emphasized a driver’s “choice” in license plate designs. Indeed, a number of viewpoints are expressed, and programs funded, with Texas specialty plates—more than 130 of them. But none of the other “choices” could be so easily construed as a scheme to funnel money to one side of a polarizing issue. “Authorizing a specialty plate that benefits only one side of the debate is unfair,” says Terri Burke, executive director of the ACLU of Texas.

Pojman has little sympathy for that objection. “It’s just a matter of who’s got votes in the Legislature,” he says. “The losing side usually thinks things are unfair.”

So, if the votes were there, how about an alternative option with a message like “Respect Choice,” to raise funds for women’s health organizations? “Oh, we would absolutely oppose that,” says Pojman. “We think the state of Texas should have a policy of advocating childbirth.”

As Wheat points out, this is not a new issue. In fact, it’s the sixth attempt at passing a law to permit the plates. “What’s new,” she says, “is the governor’s enthusiasm for it.”

Perry is gearing up for a gubernatorial primary battle next year against Republican Sen. Kay Bailey Hutchison. “If there’s every been a more pro-life governor in Texas history,” Perry said in December, “I’d be hard pressed to name who that was.”