Variations on the theme from M*A*S*H: Part two

You may have seen the media coverage this week of the deaths of the conductor Sir Edward Downes and his wife Joan, who chose to end their lives together at the Swiss suicide clinic, Dignitas. Lady Downes was terminally ill; her husband, though losing his sight and hearing and becoming increasingly frail, was not. There are those who say that suicide is an abomination, whatever the motivation. Yet even the Catholic church no longer deems it a mortal sin, since to contemplate suicide a person must apparently not be in their right mind. But when a person is a part of you to such an extent that living without them would be more agonising than dying, quietly, alongside them, suicide may seem less like an act of desperation and more like the last laugh against illness and infirmity. I'm not condoning suicide. It isn't my place to be either for or against it, since I believe it's a matter for the individual concerned, and can only feel compassion for those who believe this is the way their life must end. I have no connection with the Downes family, but I respect the decision of Sir Edward and his wife, and I hope they are now at peace. My sympathies are with their family and friends.

Variations on the theme from M*A*S*H: Part one

There are two starting points for this. One is very old: Thou shalt not kill. One is more recent: human rights. It's currently legal in this country (the UK) to commit suicide. That phrase in itself is telling: suicide was decriminalised as recently as the 1960s. Assisting a suicide remains a criminal offence. There have been several high profile cases in the news recently of people who have chosen to end their lives by travelling to a Swiss clinic where they will take a carefully calculated overdose. One woman is seeking assurance that her partner will not be prosecuted for helping her end her life. If she cannot receive that assurance, it is likely that she will choose to make the journey while she is still able to, arguably shortening her life unnecessarily. Can it be right to force someone to take their life before they are truly ready? If you've notice of your own death, isn't it better to be able to face it without fear of your loved ones' prosecution? Perhaps knowing that the option is there as a last resort is enough to provide a reason to carry on in the hope that things may get better. I'm aware of the pitfalls of legalised euthanasia. That's something I'll write about another time. But we need a sensible debate about the options available to the terminally and chronically ill. It's no longer a crime to end one's life. It's time to examine whether the same should be said of loving someone enough to let them die with dignity.