08/31/2026
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In 1953, a 78-year-old widow walked into a struggling Massachusetts laboratory and essentially told a scientist: develop the birth control pill. I’ll pay for it.
Her name was Katharine Dexter McCormick.
Decades earlier, McCormick had been one of the few women studying biology at MIT. She even fought the university over its requirement that women wear hats in laboratories, arguing, correctly, that feathers and loose fabric near open flames were dangerous.
Then she married into one of America’s great fortunes.
Her husband, Stanley McCormick, heir to the International Harvester fortune, developed severe mental illness early in their marriage. Katharine decided not to have children, and contraception became intensely personal.
She became a suffragist, joined Margaret Sanger’s birth control movement and did something considerably more daring: she smuggled diaphragms from Europe into the United States, where contraception remained heavily restricted.
But her biggest gamble came later.
Margaret Sanger had spent years dreaming of a contraceptive women could control themselves. Scientist Gregory Pincus believed hormones might make it possible, but his research was running out of money.
McCormick arrived.
After meeting Pincus in 1953, she immediately wrote him a check for $40,000 and promised more. She ultimately supplied nearly all the private funding needed to push the research forward.
This was not passive philanthropy. McCormick monitored the scientists, demanded results and even moved to Boston to stay close to the work.
In 1960, the FDA approved the first oral contraceptive.
The scientists became famous. The Pill changed s*x, marriage, work and women’s ability to control when, or whether, they became mothers.
Katharine McCormick had helped pay for the revolution.
When she died in 1967 at 92, no major newspaper published her obituary.