Whose life is it? Rethinking the right to die |
For some, choosing to die is an act of courage, not despair. A civilised society must allow space for that choice, says Bob Scott.
Around 2,500 years ago, the author of Ecclesiastes would appear to have been feeling somewhat world-weary when he concluded there was nothing new under the sun. Perhaps he had endured a particularly hot time of it that day, or maybe it was proving tricky to extract an adequate supply of ink from charred seashells, or the quality of the papyrus was not up to scratch. Whatever it was that provoked his cynicism, he was accurate. Much of what happens today is as it was then and probably always has been. Life expectancy in the part of the world in which we live is approximately three times that experienced by ancient desert dwellers. Nonetheless, death still comes about as the result of accident, suicide, homicide or natural causes. New words need not be concocted to describe the mode of our demise. The existing system of classification covers all eventualities. However, an examination of what lies behind one of those mechanisms is now required. We are conditioned to view the taking of one’s own life as a dreadful mistake and a tragedy. When this is due to serious mental illness, or profound emotional disturbance, how could it not be?
It is the few remaining instances which challenge our understanding, those carried out by well-balanced individuals who, as a result of incurable illness and intolerable suffering, calmly decide to end their lives. The intuitive response is to lump them in with the others. That conflation should be resisted. Although it cuts across the grain of our conditioning, we should not deny individuals that ultimate choice, nor condemn them for seeking relief from unbearable distress.
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Such a decision is not arrived at lightly. The soul searching endured by those who embark on such a journey is excruciating. Someone who is in good health and free from extreme adversity will never be called upon to undertake the ordeal this involves. It is one thing to casually debate the theoretical alternatives of what might be required, but it is an entirely different matter to do so while suffering the torment of an irremediable illness. The courage of those who achieve this and who, at the same time, take steps to minimise the distress faced by their loved ones is extraordinary.
A few years ago a friend of mine who lived alone, let’s call her Mary, decided she could no longer endure the agony engendered by several disorders including extensive paralysis and recurrent cancer. After completing the strict protocol demanded by Dignitas and in the process spending all her savings, she was ready. Mary informed a handful of close friends about her plans. Upon learning about her intentions they were upset, but supportive and non-judgmental.
Mary declined all offers of assistance on the journey to Switzerland. She recognised that on their return to the UK an escort could be prosecuted. Mary also wrote postcards to a larger circle of acquaintances, which she expected to post from Switzerland, having previously said nothing to them about her stratagem. Finally, she obtained the essential “Provisional green light” from Dignitas.
Mary asked if her organs could be donated and was disappointed to learn the Swiss authorities inevitably reject this humanitarian gesture on the grounds that the drugs taken could render these unsafe and therefore made arrangements for her cremation and disposal of ashes to be carried out in Switzerland. On the fateful day Mary sent the postcards to her chums. On receiving these, they might have wondered if they should have spotted what she was planning and may well have asked themselves if they could have persuaded her to change her mind. However, one individual was so incensed that she contacted the police and social services to express her outrage. She demanded that action be taken.
These agencies gained access to Mary’s house and confiscated various items and documents. Following that intrusion, several of her close friends were interviewed by the police. In the event no one was charged and the investigation was dropped. Of course, by then Mary was blissfully unaware of what had transpired. Had she known, she would probably have asked, as she had many times before, “Whose life is it, anyway?”
There is a need to recognise such action can be appropriate even if, and here comes the awkward bit, that conclusion runs contrary to our personal beliefs. Showing tolerance towards the measured conduct of others, of which we do not approve, is the hallmark of a civilised people. A society which allows its members to take control over all aspects of their lives, including its final stage, truly will have come of age.
Perhaps it was only once his thoughts about nothing under the sun being new were off his chest, that the anonymous wordsmith had time to stretch his legs and take a refreshing dip in the river. This might have been what inspired his next glorious effort. “To everything there is a season, a time to be born and a time to die”. Now who can dispute the logic, the poesy and the implications of those immortal words?
Bob Scott is a retired GP and Humanist Funeral Celebrant.