On
the 16th August, Tony Nicklinson lost his “right to die” case at the
High Court. Yesterday, he died of pneumonia – exacerbated by his refusal to eat
in the days since his defeat.
Since
his stroke 7 years ago, Mr Nicklinson had suffered from “locked in syndrome” –
being fully alert and conscious on the inside, but unable to move beyond some
facial expressions, the most heartbreaking being his face when he learned that
he would not be allowed to die. The judges on his case decided that
"voluntary euthanasia is murder, however understandable the motives may
be". Because of his inability to move independently, he would have had to
enlist help from a family member in order to end his life.
Euthanasia
is one of those subjects I’ve always been fairly neutral about – nobody wants
to think of people suffering, but equally, when is it ok to turn off the life
support? Even people who appear to be braindead have occasionally snapped out
of their comas, none the worse for it. And how can you trust that the person
making the decision really has the patient’s best interests at heart? People
can be very odd when wills are in the equation....
However,
it still makes sense to judge cases on an individual basis. Would the judges
have changed their mind about Tony Nicklinson’s fate if they had experienced
just one day in his body, communicating through blinks and having to give up
every shred of dignity? Mr Nicklinson pointed out; "Judges, like politicians,
are happiest when they can avoid confronting the real issues and this judgement
is no exception to the rule.” He admitted that his biggest regret was summoning
help at the hotel when he collapsed; “If I knew then what I know now, I would
have let nature take its course.”
Jean-Dominique Bauby was the editor of French ELLE
when he suffered a stroke and became a victim of locked-in syndrome. He
painstakingly spelled out every
letter of every word of a
short book about the experience, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, before he died (also from pneumonia).
He describes correspondence from his friends; “Other letters
simply relate the small events that punctuate the passage of time: roses picked
at dusk, the laziness of a rainy Sunday, a child crying himself to sleep.
Capturing the moment, these small slices of life, these small gusts of
happiness, move me more deeply than all the rest.” One could argue that as long
as you’re alive, it is still possible to find some value in every moment.
But
how long can someone go on living in purgatory? Mr Nicklinson’s response to his
high court defeat was: “I am crestfallen, totally devastated and very
frightened. I fear for the future and the misery it is bound to bring.” His
daughter Lauren told the press “He would rather have three months of the
physical and mental anguish of starving himself than 30 years living
locked-in.” It’s an understandable stance; not only would 30 years of living
mean more years of ‘dull, miserable, demeaning, undignified and intolerable’
life for you, but also for the family who would have to sacrifice their own
lives to take care of you, adding guilt to the list of daily pains.
So
what was the court’s problem with Mr Nicklinson’s “right to die”? As he was
extremely keen to end his life, it seems irrelevant that the actual drugs would
need to be placed in his mouth by someone else. So it appears that the actual
debate isn’t about whether it’s ok to “help” someone die – it’s a debate about
the moral rights and wrongs of suicide. The judges decided that Tony Nicklinson
had to stick it out rather than end his suffering.
But
like it or not, every human being has the right to kill themselves, if they so
choose. If someone is physically incapable of doing so, why is it suddenly
someone else’s choice to make?
