Bedtime Blog: Balancing Hope and Concern on Assisted Dying in the UK
I’m writing this blog post at 10 p.m., so it’s going to be a quick one before bed. Originally, I planned to write something a couple of days ago, but the subject of the assisted dying bill brought back memories I did not want to revisit. Today’s subject is the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill.
It’s a private member’s bill, something which almost never gets passed, making its way through the House of Commons. The last time a bill like this was debated was in 2015, yet now it has passed its second reading.
You can read the bill here: Full Bill PDF
At 38 pages long, it seems to be rather strict in outlining when this new legal power can be used.
I broadly support the bill, but I still have some concerns. My first concern is that the safeguards may be too strict, potentially making the process too lengthy. I’m unsure whether the safeguards will have the desired impact or might cause unintended negative effects instead.
I also have a deep mistrust and fear about state abuse. It wasn’t long ago that the NHS issued ‘do not resuscitate’ orders for some patients during the COVID pandemic without transparency. Alongside historic abuse in care homes, vulnerable people in society have been treated poorly for a long time.
That said, I am reminded of my own painful experiences watching family members die slowly and painfully, with no hope of recovery. Ending it all would have been a much better option than hopelessly fighting against the odds.
Arguments against the bill often include concerns about poor social care, poor outcomes, and inadequate end-of-life care. I don’t view these as valid arguments because the people making them have had the opportunity to address these problems but have chosen not to.
I hope this bill brings these issues to the forefront, but the current government already has a long list of problems to tackle. Radical reform of deep structural issues is likely to take a back seat to more immediate concerns. I’m cautiously optimistic that we might finally address this, but after 14 years or more of neglect, the state is in a massive hole—far weaker, doing more with less, lacking expertise, and barely functioning in some areas.
My next big concern is that this bill will place additional burdens on already stretched resources. I also have deep-seated concerns that some people, particularly the disabled and vulnerable, may be coerced into taking this route. There’s a risk that a future government might exploit this law for headline-grabbing purposes, with potentially devastating consequences. Given the past abuse of power and lack of moral standing, these fears are not unfounded.
I suppose the broader issue here is a deep mistrust of the state, something I hadn’t considered as fully until today. On one hand, I support this bill; on the other, I worry about its implications.
However painful my memories are, this decision should not be taken lightly. Crossing the Rubicon on such a significant issue demands caution. This could be one of the biggest societal changes in the UK for generations. Perhaps it will finally lead us to discuss ageing and death more openly. Maybe, in time, we’ll be ready to talk about other taboo subjects, like sex and relationships.
Who knows? What I do know is that this was a historic day. For the first time I can remember, the House of Commons was silent when the bill passed. It restored a bit of my faith in politics. Perhaps this new Parliament is better than the last.