Few of us have a choice as to how we die. I feel guilty about the patients who wanted to fie at home, but for whom i failed to recognise their last illness, and admitted them to hospital when they should have remained at home. Choosing how and where we die has become a privilege of the few. They are either very determined or they are very lucky, or they are very rich. How often have we heard the pet lovers mantra: “You would not treat an animal like that”, and how often has a death been praised for its humanity? At the moment it is still “illegal” to assist death in any way….
Daniel Finkelstein in the Times 24th June 2020 reminds us that this is a societal choice: We don’t have to live with this way of dying – Denying the terminally ill help to end their lives will one day be considered as barbaric as refusing pain relief in childbirth
am going to tell you the story of Ian Douglas, who was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 1986 — the story of him and of his children, Anil and Anjuli. Because it’s also the story of millions of us. It is a story of unnecessary suffering and bad law. And one day, who knows, it could be the story of you.
I don’t believe it will be, though. I am an optimist. I’ve watched the way we’ve all behaved these past few months and I think we’re ready to change things. I think we are becoming more mature about death, more capable of talking about it and more self-confident. I think in every generation we have learnt to live better, and now we are going to learn how to die better, too.
So this article is about death, but it’s not about despair. It’s a bit about courage, a little about hope and a lot about a determination that the time has come to act.
Today brings the publication of Last Rights: The Case for Assisted Dying by Sarah Wootton and Lloyd Riley. It’s an eloquent argument for reform and when they sent me the text, I said I was happy to provide a foreword.
Until about 2008 Ian Douglas managed reasonably well. But that year his wife, Reena Bhavnani, died of breast cancer and Ian began, slowly at first, to struggle more with his illness. Having watched his wife die, he became determined that he would control his own death as far as possible.
This was a man who was mentally strong, a trade union researcher and a financial analyst. But with each relapse he could do less. By the end he couldn’t feed himself and sometimes he couldn’t get a glass of wine to his lips even when it was poured for him. His GP confirmed that his condition was terminal.
So he started to plan. He’d been obtaining marijuana and he got hold of opioids from the dark web. The first time he took an overdose, he didn’t take enough. He told his family that the resulting stomach pain was gastric flu. A week later he tried again, and failed again. But finally, the night before his 60th birthday, he took enough for it to be fatal.
The police arrived, of course. There were four squad cars. Anil and Anjuli, now adults, were interviewed with their father dead in the next room, and the police took their phones. And their dad’s phone and computer with his address book. They couldn’t talk to family or friends or even inform some of them of their father’s death. The police went through all of Ian’s possessions.
Later there were separate sit-down interviews with the children. Ian had taken great care to ensure they had no involvement but even that did not save them the ordeal of questioning.
Then silence. It took months for them to be confident that there wouldn’t be any follow-up. I’m able to write this story because they have only just found out for sure. Ian died in February last year.
Is this really how we want to do things? Because there is one last part of Ian’s story that is relevant. In his final note, left for those who might find him, he wrote: “I would like to put on record that had we more sympathetic assisted-dying laws in this country, in all probability I would still be alive today.”
If he had been certain that he would be helped to die by doctors when the time came, he would have been able to postpone his death. He acted when he did only because he was declining and he needed to be sure he could organise the whole thing himself.
We don’t have to live with this way of dying. The authors of Last Rights are surely correct when they say: “Denying people the option to relieve their own suffering at the end of life will [one day] be viewed as just as barbaric and nonsensical as withholding pain relief during childbirth.” Yet this was a policy once advocated by the church and many medical professionals until Queen Victoria demanded pain relief during the birth of Prince Leopold.
Suicide used to be illegal. It was until 1961, believe it or not. That is why we still talk about people “committing” suicide. We use the same word that we use for crime, because it was a crime.
It became obvious that it was inhuman to start criminal proceedings against those who tried and failed to kill themselves. How long before we do something about the similarly inhuman practice of having to interrogate relatives over the voluntary death of a loved relative who was terminally ill?
Everyone imagines that this will never be them, never be their relatives, because if they get ill like that the doctors will “know what to do”. Or they will be able to go to Dignitas or something.
In reality it isn’t like that. The doctors can’t start just bumping off their patients, and they don’t. And Ian couldn’t go to Dignitas because by the time he was close to the end, travelling was out of the question. And anyway he didn’t want to fly off. He wanted to die here.
So what should we do?
A few years back, when I was working in politics and Boris Johnson was writing a newspaper column, the two of us spent quite a long time discussing assisted dying. He was open to changes in the law but in the end I couldn’t quite persuade him.
He worried a lot that people would feel under pressure to hasten their deaths so as not to be a nuisance to their relatives.
But not long after this he began to change his mind, and it has been almost 15 years now since he agreed there was need for a new law, one with careful safeguards that allows someone overwhelmingly likely to die in the next six months to seek assistance from medical practitioners, following careful procedures and review. After all, far from hastening death, it would delay it. Ian’s life would have been longer.
This could be a landmark reform of his government. The moral case for it is compelling. And so is the political case. This is a policy that unites cultural conservatives and social liberals. It has done for years.
In January 1937 Gallup conducted the first opinion polls in this country. In answer to its second ever question, “Do you consider that doctors should be given power to end the life of a person incurably ill?”, 69 per cent of respondents said yes.
Now a change in the law, one that includes proper protections against abuse, is supported by a full 84 per cent. It is the settled will of the country and of its prime minister. It’s an idea whose time has come.
The current absense of law on assisted dying is divisive…. We need a national solution
Assisted dying reincarnated.. Patients need choice..
The neurosurgeon Henry Marsh on why assisted dying should be legalised
The Times letters 26th June: Its about choice, and avoiding doctors being responsible!
Sir, I am heartened by Daniel Finkelstein’s article. I have incurable cancer. Without a change in the law I am deprived of choice at the end of my life. I should be able to choose an assisted death so that in the last weeks of my life I can say: “Enough.”
I should be allowed to die before I have to endure weeks of protracted pain and deterioration. I will be dying anyway: I want the choice.
Christie Arntsen
Black Bourton, Oxon
Sir, I agree with Daniel Finkelstein. I hope that, in debating this subject, undue weight will not be given in the future, as it has been in the past, to the views of the medical profession. If sufficient safeguards are in place, it is surely an act of pure compassion to assist in the death of someone who is terminally ill and wants to end their suffering, but no doctor who had a conscientious objection would be required to take part. That aside, the views of doctors are surely no more compelling than the views of any other group of people. The decision is one for us all. The fact that assisted dying would be brought about by medical means does not make it a medical issue.
Richard Oerton
Cannington, Somerset
Sir, I read Daniel Finkelstein’s piece with mixed feelings. I felt sympathy for Ian Douglas and those close to him and their collective experiences. But I also recognised personal and professional dismay that it still seems to be expected that doctors will be responsible for helping patients to die.
I agree with campaigners for “assisted dying” that legislation is a matter for society to decide. But I do not agree that doctors should be expected to have a role in its provision other than to confirm diagnosis and clinical information as, in most of modern medicine, doctors are not qualified to make personal, family and social judgments that are inherent in such decisions. There are significant dangers of placing assisted suicide within medicine, not least that by doing so it is presented as a benevolent act and must be valid.
If “assisted dying” is a matter for society and not for doctors, it is society, through legal processes, that must take responsibility for it.
Dr Iain Lawrie
Consultant in palliative medicine, Manchester
Update 28th June letters 28th June in the Times:
ASSISTED DYING
Sir, I have no doubt that those arguing against the legalisation of assisted dying now (letters, Jun 25 & 26), will come to be seen in the same light as those who protested against the introduction of heart transplants as unnatural or ungodly. It is right to both save life when we can, and to limit the pain of dying for those terminally ill who so wish. At present, we can do the former but not the latter unless they commit suicide or covertly go abroad to die. It is time to give a better, safer and more regulated option.
Rabbi Dr Jonathan Romain
Maidenhead Synagogue
Sir, Daniel Finkelstein (Jun 24) repeats the well-worn arguments for legalising “assisted dying”. He overlooks the unfeasibility of framing and enforcing “proper protections against abuse” (no jurisdiction with permissive laws has anything close) or where his argument logically leads.
To pose but two of several obvious questions his article raises: if the law should allow physician-assisted suicide for those likely to die in six months’ time, why not for those who face years of suffering? And if a hastened death for suffering patients who can request it, why not for those who are unable to do so?
Professor John Keown
Kennedy Institute of Ethics, Georgetown University
Sir, In 1993, when my mother was 92, she suffered a stroke that left her paralysed. She could not utter a word, though could very clearly mouth “I want to die”. I was helpless. She was fed through her nose and given antibiotics when pneumonia set in. Three months later, when an elderly locum (with no career to lose) was on duty, my mother was given the means to die peacefully. I do not wish to end my life in such a barbaric way.
Enid Light
Henley-on-Thames, Oxon