In a week of media flashes of Somalis fleeing death by starvation and the shadow of a Norway massacre that saw an act of terror stub out lives barely begun, there is talk closer to home of the times in which humans seek to quicken their fate and each of our right to die.
Marking the fiftieth anniversary of the Suicide Act, a survey of the views of more than 2,000 people on assisted suicide has been released showing large support for a change in the law.
Three in four people were to said to believe terminally ill adults who wish to end their life should have the right to ask their doctor for help to do so, whilst in the case of the physically disabled who are not terminally ill, one in three thought the same. The public, it seems, are getting to grips with death.
This is welcome news. When it comes to the ending of life, our society must acknowledge that which is not streamed on television; the everyday, the quiet suffering of a drawn out end – and to understand that in these times, true humanity is not forcing others to cling to the painful edge of life, but allowing them to take, as much as possible, autonomy over a dignified death.
That these statistics suggest this is widely acknowledged shows great promise for the cause of assisted suicide. That this is the case for both the terminally ill and the disabled, however, shows great cause for concern.
A distinction between the two by those surveyed was indeed made – at the crux, there was less support when it came to the disabled – yet it cannot be said that it is one that reflects a deep distaste for the euthanasia of the willing disabled. When the point of comparison is with people who are dying, it means very little that fewer support the same option for those who are not.
Disability, particularly when severe or exasperated by lack of support, can be hard. It is not, in its darkest forms, comparable with near death.
The difficulties of a lack of physical ability and the plight of the terminally ill should not as such be mentioned in the same breath.
There are of course cases in which disabled people, who have no disease that threatens their life, wish to die.
They are individual tragedies, and despite the ethical questions and wider societal consequences that stream from them, should not be judged. This is not to say, however, that they should be supported.
Outside of disability, it is an unavoidable truth that suicidal thoughts exist, ending lives with undeserved failings of the mind. I would suggest that if asked the number who would deem it right to aid in these quests to die would be considerably less than one in three. It is a worrying reflection on the perception of disability that when the problem becomes physical, what was our responsibility to prevent can quickly become our responsibility to assist.
Those supporting such a move are not gung-ho 'euthanizers', gleefully ticking off the list of the vulnerable whilst clutching a copy of Mein Kampf, but members of a complex debate holding good intentions. Yet it cannot be ignored that under good intentions sit damaging thoughts on what makes a life worth living, that questions need to be asked as to why what would otherwise be seen as a 'waste of a life' fails to be if the one seeking to die happens to be disabled.
What disabled people need is acknowledgment as worthwhile equal citizens and government assistance to let their potential be realised. When it comes to disability, beneficial legislation is that which strengthens life, not assists death. In the assisted suicide debate, this distinction must be made clearer: for the sake of the disabled and the euthanasia movement itself.
• Frances Ryan is a political researcher at the University of Nottingham. She is also a freelance writer, specialising in education, feminism, British politics, and disability and gay rights
taken from http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/joepublic/2011/aug/05/assisted-suicide-disability
Marking the fiftieth anniversary of the Suicide Act, a survey of the views of more than 2,000 people on assisted suicide has been released showing large support for a change in the law.
Three in four people were to said to believe terminally ill adults who wish to end their life should have the right to ask their doctor for help to do so, whilst in the case of the physically disabled who are not terminally ill, one in three thought the same. The public, it seems, are getting to grips with death.
This is welcome news. When it comes to the ending of life, our society must acknowledge that which is not streamed on television; the everyday, the quiet suffering of a drawn out end – and to understand that in these times, true humanity is not forcing others to cling to the painful edge of life, but allowing them to take, as much as possible, autonomy over a dignified death.
That these statistics suggest this is widely acknowledged shows great promise for the cause of assisted suicide. That this is the case for both the terminally ill and the disabled, however, shows great cause for concern.
A distinction between the two by those surveyed was indeed made – at the crux, there was less support when it came to the disabled – yet it cannot be said that it is one that reflects a deep distaste for the euthanasia of the willing disabled. When the point of comparison is with people who are dying, it means very little that fewer support the same option for those who are not.
Disability, particularly when severe or exasperated by lack of support, can be hard. It is not, in its darkest forms, comparable with near death.
The difficulties of a lack of physical ability and the plight of the terminally ill should not as such be mentioned in the same breath.
There are of course cases in which disabled people, who have no disease that threatens their life, wish to die.
They are individual tragedies, and despite the ethical questions and wider societal consequences that stream from them, should not be judged. This is not to say, however, that they should be supported.
Outside of disability, it is an unavoidable truth that suicidal thoughts exist, ending lives with undeserved failings of the mind. I would suggest that if asked the number who would deem it right to aid in these quests to die would be considerably less than one in three. It is a worrying reflection on the perception of disability that when the problem becomes physical, what was our responsibility to prevent can quickly become our responsibility to assist.
Those supporting such a move are not gung-ho 'euthanizers', gleefully ticking off the list of the vulnerable whilst clutching a copy of Mein Kampf, but members of a complex debate holding good intentions. Yet it cannot be ignored that under good intentions sit damaging thoughts on what makes a life worth living, that questions need to be asked as to why what would otherwise be seen as a 'waste of a life' fails to be if the one seeking to die happens to be disabled.
What disabled people need is acknowledgment as worthwhile equal citizens and government assistance to let their potential be realised. When it comes to disability, beneficial legislation is that which strengthens life, not assists death. In the assisted suicide debate, this distinction must be made clearer: for the sake of the disabled and the euthanasia movement itself.
• Frances Ryan is a political researcher at the University of Nottingham. She is also a freelance writer, specialising in education, feminism, British politics, and disability and gay rights
taken from http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/joepublic/2011/aug/05/assisted-suicide-disability
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