Perhaps the strongest argument against the reintroduction of capital punishment is the possibility that mistakes, once made, cannot be rectified. In the 20th century, such errors – even with legal safeguards in place – were not uncommon. Infamous cases, such as those of Timothy Evans and George Kelly, are a testament to that. It is ironic, therefore, that MPs who would strongly oppose capital punishment can, at the same time, enthusiastically support the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill brought before parliament by Labour MP Kim Leadbeater.
People will opt for suicide when they may have many years of life ahead of them
The same argument applies. If a mistake is made, and a person opts for assisted dying based on incorrect information, that mistake cannot later be rectified. Supporters of the Bill talk about the rigorous safeguards that would surround the decision-making process. But, as with the legal protections surrounding capital punishment, these can fail. It’s also deeply troubling to learn this morning that one of the key safeguards in the Assisted Dying Bill – that cases have to be signed off by the High Court – may no longer apply.
For me, this is no theoretical debate. In January 2024, I was diagnosed with suspected Motor Neurone Disease (MND). Three months later, this diagnosis was confirmed. I was suffering badly from fasciculations (or twitching and cramping) in my hands and arms, and I had noticeable weakness and muscle wastage in my right hand.
The first doctor who diagnosed my condition did so after a barrage of tests and said that, although he had written “suspected” in my report, he wanted me to know that there was no doubt about the diagnosis. He explained there was no single, definitive test for MND, so he would send me to a senior specialist at a London teaching hospital for a second opinion. He also told me there was no cure and that death usually came between eighteen months and four years after diagnosis, but that the end could come much more quickly. Finally, he advised me not to make any plans beyond six months.
The senior specialist to whom I was referred examined me at the start of April and confirmed the diagnosis. He told me that, while I could live for a further five years, he had known cases where people had died within two months of diagnosis. Both doctors also warned that the degree of muscle wastage in my hand suggested I had already lived with the condition for some considerable time.
Upon first being diagnosed, I was struck by fear and panic. I knew broadly how the end would come with MND. Muscle strength gradually fades until speech, movement, swallowing and breathing become increasingly difficult. Although I have many good friends and a supportive family, I am single and live alone. I felt I was in an impossible position and would not be able to cope with such a decline. And so, on the day after my initial diagnosis, I filled in the forms to join the Swiss assisted suicide clinic, Dignitas. I also considered other ways of terminating my life, perhaps by throwing myself off a cliff.
The Dignitas literature stressed that patients needed to administer the fatal chemicals themselves. Where patients had conditions such as MND, I determined that the procedure could not be delayed until the disease had progressed to the point of debilitation. I therefore felt under pressure to act.
However, given my Catholic faith, as the moral considerations of suicide came into focus and my panic started to recede, the desire to end my life also began to fade. The excellent response of the NHS was undoubtedly a contributing factor as I was surrounded by high-quality specialist care. As well as regular visits to the senior consultant, I had the phone number of an MND nurse whom I could contact at any time. My breathing was monitored. Modifications to my home were discussed and I was sent to a palliative care doctor to discuss end-of-life planning. The senior consultant invited me to participate in drug trials but I declined based on my short life expectancy.
Yet as spring turned into summer, it became clear that my health was not worsening as expected. I was sent for further nerve conduction studies. These revealed that my condition was much more likely to be Multifocal Motor Neuropathy, a mild condition that is not terminal and which, in most cases, is treatable.
The Bill currently before Parliament requires that two doctors independently assess and confirm that a patient has a “terminal illness” and is “reasonably expected to die within six months”. It sounds fail-safe. But in my case, I was told by two eminent specialists that I had a terminal condition and that, in the worst scenario, death could come within months. If I had had a fixed intention to terminate my life, I would surely have been a candidate. After my suicide, friends and family would perhaps have talked about my bravery in opting for a dignified death. They would have known nothing of my misdiagnosis. They would have not been aware that my death had been needless.
MPs currently scrutinising the Bill and preparing to vote on it again further down the road need to acknowledge the uncomfortable reality that doctors can – and, tragically, often do – make mistakes. People will opt for suicide when they may have many years of life ahead of them. This is not a zero-sum game.
MPs must consider whether the supposed benefit of introducing assisted suicide is acceptable when weighed alongside the certainty that mistakes will be made and people will die for no reason. In my judgment, the cost is simply too great to countenance.