What defines a good life? Is it vitality, independence, good health, or self-sufficiency? These ideals — quietly assumed and rarely questioned — are at the core of the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill which was once again debated in Parliament last Friday. It is one thing for a society to pose such a question, but quite another when the answer leads to exclusion.
Many, doubtless, believe that this Bill on euthanasia is about death. Actually, it is about the nature of life. For if the quality of a life is to be legally calculated by arbitrary standards – age, frailty, disability, or illness; the result will be institutionalised discrimination, as a precursor of state-sponsored suicide.
We need only to look at lessons from abroad. In Canada, more than 40,000 people now choose euthanasia each year. Alarmingly, over a third of them who suggested feeling like a "perceived burden on family, friends, or caregivers" as a motivating factor. In the Netherlands, what was once limited to those with terminal illnesses now includes individuals with mental health conditions. Since 2010, the number of cases citing psychiatric suffering as justification for assisted euthanasia has surged by nearly 7,000%.
These are not hypothetical fears, but hard facts — real-life case studies. Once it is assumed in statute that some lives are no longer worth living, the logic of the policy becomes impossible to contain. What was at first seen as a last resort for the terminally ill is now offered to those with years, sometimes decades, of precious life remaining. The concept of a "life not worth living" in these instances becomes dynamic.
So, I return to the a priori question – what does a good life look like – for the answer has profound consequences. If we, through law, suggest that lives marked by profound disability, enduring illness, or continued dependence on others is worth less – we do violence to the dignity of the very people our society should be committed to protecting most of all.
If Members of Parliament vote for assisted suicide, the very essence of the NHS's role will change — from protecting life to ending it. Because this conflicts with my guiding commitment to defend the voiceless and vulnerable, who endure challenges beyond most people’s imagination, let alone experience – I will not do so.
The proponents of assisted suicide argue for autonomy. But whose? When disabled people are offered death instead of support or when cancer patients are given the option to end their life rather than face treatment, we are no longer dealing with personal choice, but endorsing the systemic abandonment of those in the greatest need. Legalised assisted suicide sends the message that death is the only solution to suffering, handicap and hardship.
There are simply too many unknown eventualities to change the law; too many reasons to believe vulnerable people would be coerced to end their lives; too many examples from elsewhere of initially limited laws being drastically extended. The consequences of such a fundamental shift in how we value life and treat death deserve the greatest consideration.
To paraphrase T.S. Eliot, half the harm that is done in this world is done by people who don't mean to do harm; it is just that the harm doesn't interest them. All MPs should recognise that deciding to make euthanasia legal will shape not only our legacy, but the very character of our nation. The great Greek philosopher Aristotle concluded that the essence of a good life is not defined by circumstances but by virtue – notably the virtues or courage and compassion. We must ask ourselves: will we be remembered as the generation that, in the pursuit of virtue, offered support and kindness to those in the greatest need, or as the one that chose convenience over care – death over life. What defines a good life? Is it vitality, independence, good health, or self-sufficiency? These ideals — quietly assumed and rarely questioned — are at the core of the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill which was once again debated in Parliament last Friday. It is one thing for a society to pose such a question, but quite another when the answer leads to exclusion.
Many, doubtless, believe that this Bill on euthanasia is about death. Actually, it is about the nature of life. For if the quality of a life is to be legally calculated by arbitrary standards – age, frailty, disability, or illness; the result will be institutionalised discrimination, as a precursor of state-sponsored suicide.
We need only to look at lessons from abroad. In Canada, more than 40,000 people now choose euthanasia each year. Alarmingly, over a third of them who suggested feeling like a "perceived burden on family, friends, or caregivers" as a motivating factor. In the Netherlands, what was once limited to those with terminal illnesses now includes individuals with mental health conditions. Since 2010, the number of cases citing psychiatric suffering as justification for assisted euthanasia has surged by nearly 7,000%.
These are not hypothetical fears, but hard facts — real-life case studies. Once it is assumed in statute that some lives are no longer worth living, the logic of the policy becomes impossible to contain. What was at first seen as a last resort for the terminally ill is now offered to those with years, sometimes decades, of precious life remaining. The concept of a "life not worth living" in these instances becomes dynamic.
So, I return to the a priori question – what does a good life look like – for the answer has profound consequences. If we, through law, suggest that lives marked by profound disability, enduring illness, or continued dependence on others is worth less – we do violence to the dignity of the very people our society should be committed to protecting most of all.
If Members of Parliament vote for assisted suicide, the very essence of the NHS's role will change — from protecting life to ending it. Because this conflicts with my guiding commitment to defend the voiceless and vulnerable, who endure challenges beyond most people’s imagination, let alone experience – I will not do so.
The proponents of assisted suicide argue for autonomy. But whose? When disabled people are offered death instead of support or when cancer patients are given the option to end their life rather than face treatment, we are no longer dealing with personal choice, but endorsing the systemic abandonment of those in the greatest need. Legalised assisted suicide sends the message that death is the only solution to suffering, handicap and hardship.
There are simply too many unknown eventualities to change the law; too many reasons to believe vulnerable people would be coerced to end their lives; too many examples from elsewhere of initially limited laws being drastically extended. The consequences of such a fundamental shift in how we value life and treat death deserve the greatest consideration.
To paraphrase T.S. Eliot, half the harm that is done in this world is done by people who don't mean to do harm; it is just that the harm doesn't interest them. All MPs should recognise that deciding to make euthanasia legal will shape not only our legacy, but the very character of our nation. The great Greek philosopher Aristotle concluded that the essence of a good life is not defined by circumstances but by virtue – notably the virtues or courage and compassion. We must ask ourselves: will we be remembered as the generation that, in the pursuit of virtue, offered support and kindness to those in the greatest need, or as the one that chose convenience over care – death over life.
