Assisted dying kills society’s most vulnerable
British politics makes a habit of subjecting the most important decisions to the least scrutiny.
The 2050 net zero target, which will cost us trillions, was afforded a pathetic 90 minutes of debate. Covid restrictions that upended centuries-old freedoms were snuck through without any legislation at all.
On Friday, the Assisted Dying Bill will be voted on after just five hours of debate and without any impact assessment. MPs will be limited to two or three minutes to make their case.
This is no way to settle one of the great moral dilemmas of our age.
The debate raises incredibly complex ethical and theoretical questions about the role of the state, the value of human life and the limits of liberalism. Layered on top of that are the practicalities. The costs of getting those wrong are unspeakable.
I have wrestled with the arguments and felt myself torn. Like many, my own experiences shape my thinking. One of the formative events of my childhood was caring for my grandmother as she lived with us at home during a long and painful terminal illness.
I’ve considered the philosophical arguments. But, in the end, for me it comes down to practicalities. The longer I’ve spent in politics – seeing laws passed to do one thing achieve another – the more I’ve learnt that we should think incredibly carefully before legislating away problems.
That’s why I wanted to see a properly considered debate on this matter. It has not materialised.
Keir Starmer has conflated a vote on a conscience matter, where the Government is neutral, with enforced silence. By denying proper consideration of the risks, he has inadvertently taken a side.
So to consider what assisted dying would actually entail, we must look to international comparisons. They are not encouraging.
The UK law is based on Oregon, and the Bill has almost identical eligibility criteria. Supporters say that – far from a “slippery slope” – the rules there have never been expanded in law. But why would they need to be?
For, in Oregon, the definition of what counts as a “terminal disease” has grown to include those whose chief complaint was diabetes, hernias and arthritis.
Most worryingly, though, those using assisted suicide in Oregon include patients with anorexia. In fact, while data are limited, at least 60 patients have accessed euthanasia or assisted suicide for anorexia around the world. The overwhelming majority are young women.
You don’t need to be the father of three young daughters – as I am – to find that chilling.
In the UK we have even more reasons to fear the slippery slope. The courts may well rule that, under the ECHR, limiting assisted dying to terminal illness is discriminatory, and this Labour Government will feel bound to comply with that.
I fear that our human rights laws will see us end up like Belgium or the Netherlands, where children and those with mental illness are routinely accessing assisted suicide.
But, even if it weren’t so, I’d still be troubled. In Oregon, around half of those killing themselves say they’re doing so to avoid being a burden on others. I know if that was my parents that felt that way, just how heartbroken I would be.
This pressure – real or imagined – weighs heaviest on the shoulders of the most vulnerable in our communities: those worrying about money or with low self-esteem. For every case of an informed and capable individual like the remarkable Esther Rantzen, there will be the case of someone, isolated and unknown, who will feel pressurised to end their life prematurely. If they are mentally cognisant, and that is indeed what they think, the doctor and judge have no option but to approve their death.
And, for many, the choice will not really be free. We know from Canada that the waiting list for an assisted death is almost always shorter than the one for support to live at home. Many have faced the invidious choice of being told that they can spend years waiting for help or be helped to die in a matter of days.
Then there are those matters I must consider as shadow justice secretary.
The judicial safeguards are grossly inadequate. Cases may be heard in private, even on papers alone. There is no obligation to consult close family members before a decision is made, and no ability to appeal against a decision for a patient to die. Doctors will be able to proactively suggest assisted suicide, while those wanting to die will be able to shop around to find doctors who are willing to sign off their deaths.
An issue as sensitive as this will never be risk-free, but this Bill’s flaws will leave the vulnerable particularly exposed. I can’t help but think that with a proper process, some of this could have been avoided. As it is, this whole process has been rushed to such an extent that the practicalities of this Bill fill me with dread.
It is no way to govern. And I can’t in good conscience support it. So, I will be voting against the Bill on Friday. I hope my colleagues – on all sides – do the same.