PARLIAMENTARY DEBATE
Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill - 29 November 2024 (Commons/Commons Chamber)
Debate Detail
At about 2 pm, I will call Front Benchers to make their comments, and then we will move to end the debate. I have got to manage expectations. Not everyone will get in. I will try to get in as many people as possible. This is one of the most important debates that the House has had, so it is about being considerate and respectful of each other. Let us listen to each other. This is the time for the House to show itself at its best.
The reasoned amendment in the name of Dr Ben Spencer has not been selected. I call Kim Leadbeater to move the Second Reading.
Thank you, Mr Speaker, and thank you to everyone who is attending this hugely significant debate. It is a privilege to open the debate on the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill, a piece of legislation that would give dying people, under stringent criteria, choice, autonomy and dignity at the end of their lives. I welcome the debate on this hugely important issue.
Let me say to colleagues across the House, particularly new colleagues, that I know this is not easy—it certainly has not been easy for me—but if any of us wanted an easy life, I am afraid we are in the wrong place. It is our job to address complex issues and make difficult decisions. I know that for many people this is a very difficult decision, but our job is also to address the issues that matter to people. After nearly a decade since the subject was debated on the Floor of the House, many would say that the debate is long overdue.
For my part, I have tried incredibly hard to ensure that the tone of the debate has been—and continues to be—robust, of course, but most importantly respectful and compassionate. I am pleased that, for the most part, that has been the case. I can be confident that that same tone of respect and compassion will be adopted by colleagues today, whatever views they hold. That is particularly important as we have people in the Public Gallery who have a strong personal interest in this issue. They hold a range of views. Some of them have lost loved ones in difficult and traumatic circumstances, and others are themselves terminally ill.
I want to pay a huge and heartfelt tribute to those families and to every single person who has contacted me about this issue, and in many cases shared their own very personal stories of loss and death. I know from my own personal experience of grief that telling your story over and over again takes energy, courage and strength. I am incredibly grateful to them all. It is their voices and their stories that have inspired me.
Such stories are difficult to hear, but it is vital that they are heard as they are at the heart of the debate. They show that the law is failing people. Where that is the case, we have a duty to do what is right to fix it. Those here today or watching at home are dealing with the real consequences of the failings of the current system. I will start by recounting just a few of their stories.
Warwick was married to his wife Ann for nearly 40 years. She had terminal peritoneal cancer, which meant that she could not breathe properly. She spent four days gasping and choking, remaining awake throughout despite being given the maximum dose of sedatives. She eventually died of suffocation. She had begged Warwick to end her life, but as he stood over her with a pillow he could not do what she asked as he did not want that to be her final memory of him. Ann had excellent palliative care, but it simply could not ease her suffering.
Tim fell in love at first sight when he met his wife Louise—he proposed after just three days. But Louise got cancer, twice, and at the end, the morphine simply could not control her pain. In desperation, she managed to smash a small glass bottle and tried to take her own life, not realising that her toddler daughter had got into bed with her. Tim found her. He says,
“You get to a point where you stop praying for a miracle and start praying for mercy.”
Former police officer James waved is mum off as she embarked on her final trip, to Dignitas. She had terminal vasculitis. James desperately wanted to accompany his mum and hold her hand during her final moments, but he knew, because of his job as a police officer, that it was just not possible. Indeed, she insisted that he must not go with her, so she went alone—no one to hold her hand, and no proper goodbye or funeral. Those are just a few examples of the heartbreaking reality and human suffering that far too many people experience as a result of the status quo. the public know this.
I have always been keen to ensure that my politics stays rooted in the world beyond Westminster. It is clear that public opinion is very much in favour of a change in the law. Polling shows consistently that around 75% of people would like to see the legalisation of assisted dying for terminally ill, mentally competent adults. These findings are significant, but it may not be that surprising that most people believe, as I do, that we should all have the right to make the choices and decisions we want about our own bodies. Let us be clear: we are not talking about a choice between life or death; we are talking about giving dying people a choice of how to die.
Let us examine what that choice currently looks like. I do not have a legal background but I have always been driven by a strong sense of injustice. If I see a problem, I will do everything I can to try to solve it. Indeed, in this job, we all do that every week and every day, whether here in Parliament or in our constituencies. When four former directors of public prosecutions, including the Prime Minister, two former presidents of the Supreme Court and many lawyers all agree that the law needs to change, surely we have a duty to do something about it.
Intentionally helping another person to end their life is currently illegal under the Suicide Act 1961, and carries a maximum prison sentence of 14 years. This includes family and friends helping someone who is terminally ill to die, both in the UK and overseas. Existing guidance does not stop people from being investigated by the police, adding fear, guilt and further trauma to grieving families. The law is not clear, and it does not protect individuals, families or medical professionals. That drives people to very desperate measures.
What about coercion? Senior King’s Counsel have said:
“There is currently no established system for identifying abuse or coercion in advance of a person’s death or for helping vulnerable people to make end of life decisions.”
Surely, by putting a legal framework around this difficult situation, we will provide an extra level of safeguarding. One psychotherapist, who is terminally ill herself, said to me recently that coercion happens when things are hidden away. The Bill would bring things out into the open. Surely, that must be safer for everyone. Let us look at what the absence of a robust legal framework looks like.
There has rightly been a lot of discussion about palliative care in recent weeks, and I am convinced that a significant amount of that discussion would not have taken place without the introduction of the Bill. It is a long overdue conversation, and I am very pleased to see it happening.
I have met with the Association for Palliative Medicine, Hospice UK, Sue Ryder and Marie Curie, and last week I was delighted to attend the inaugural meeting of the all-party parliamentary group for hospices. I also attended the fantastic Kirkwood hospice, which serves my constituency of Spen Valley. I pay tribute to the dedicated staff and volunteers across the country in the palliative care sector, who do some of the most vital work in society. We must do more to support them, and I look forward to working with the Government and colleagues across the House in that important endeavour. That is why I have included in the Bill a requirement for the Secretary of State to report to the House on the availability, quality and distribution of palliative care.
Of course, assisted dying is not a substitute for palliative care—it is not an either/or. We have some of the best palliative care in the world in this country, and, when it can meet the needs of terminally ill people, it is second to none. However, when it cannot, surely the choice of an assisted death should be one component of a holistic approach to end of life care.
The comprehensive report by the Health and Social Care Committee, published earlier this year, found no indications of palliative care deteriorating in quality or provision in places where assisted dying had been introduced.
Coming back to palliative care, in situations where pain simply cannot be managed, the result is deaths that are so horrific that the person themselves can spend hours, and in some cases days, in unimaginable pain as they die. I want to bring the debate back to the issue that we are trying to solve. For their loved ones, no matter how many joyful and happy memories they have, they also have the trauma that comes from watching someone you love die in unbearable agony and fear. That memory stays with them forever.
Rebecca’s mum Fiona developed metastatic brain cancer at the age of 69. She had very good palliative care, but her pain could not be managed, and she died begging and screaming for assistance to end her suffering. Her family and the medical team treating her cried beside her bedside as it took her 10 days to die.
Lucy’s husband Tom was 47, a music teacher with a young son. He had bile duct cancer which obstructed his bowel, resulting in an agonising death. Tom vomited faecal matter for five hours before he ultimately inhaled the faeces and died. He was vomiting so violently that he could not be sedated and was conscious throughout. Lucy pleaded with the doctors to help. The doctor treating him said there was nothing he could do. His family say that the look of horror on his face as he died will never leave them. Lucy now has post-traumatic stress disorder, which is quite common for families who lose loved ones in such harrowing circumstances.
I come back to the status quo, which is the problem we are trying to address. If people want to avoid the trauma of some of the harrowing circumstances I have described, they can have an assisted death—just not in this country. If they have £10,000 or £15,000, they can make the trip to Switzerland or elsewhere but, because of the current legal position, it is often a deeply distressing and very lonely experience, shrouded in secrecy, with people feeling like criminals as the fear of prosecution hangs over them.
Ilana’s husband Crispin had late-stage motor neurone disease. He was paralysed, and Ilana is a wheelchair user, but at his request she took him on a traumatic and difficult journey to Switzerland. She describes the intense stress and anxiety she felt due to the total secrecy of their plan—and we can only imagine what the journey home was like, on her own, with an empty seat beside her.
There are also those terminally ill people who take matters into their own hands. Gareth’s father Norman served in the Welsh Guards. He was a strong man, but his final five years were full of pain and discomfort. He had prostate cancer, which he lived with for 15 years. He was given good initial hormone therapy and chemo, but the cancer spread everywhere and the pain could not be eased. One day, when it all became too much, he went into his garden with the gun he owned and shot himself. Gareth’s sister rushed to his house and found him. Gareth said his father just wanted the pain to stop.
Then there is Peter, from Mirfield in my own constituency, who stopped me in a car park a couple of weeks ago to tell me the harrowing story of his beloved wife, who was diagnosed with metastatic cancer aged 52. The treatment was ineffective and her symptoms were unbearable. She took an overdose of her medication, and Peter found her and took her to hospital. She recovered and he brought her home, but the following day she made another attempt to take her own life, in a way that is too awful to describe. Peter found her dead, and he spent the next eight hours being questioned by the police.
It is estimated that more than 600 terminally ill people take their own lives every year. Often patients will store up medication. Josh, a 33-year-old from Huddersfield went to coach his local kids’ rugby team one Saturday and came back to tell his mum all about it. He found her dead. Lisa, who was terminally ill, had stored up her medication and taken her own life.
Our former colleague Paul Blomfield, the previous MP for Sheffield Central, has campaigned tirelessly on this issue since his dad Harry took his own life in 2014, alone in his garage, after being diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. Language matters: Harry was not suicidal; he loved life, but he had watched too many of his friends have lingering, degrading deaths and he did not want that for himself. But, like the others, he could not tell Paul and his family of his plan, as they would have been complicit and could have faced prosecution. How many precious days and weeks did Harry miss out on as a result of having to take action while he was still physically able to do so? Hearing these stories is not easy, but it is important.
Some of the most important voices in this debate are, of course, those of people currently living with a terminal illness. Having a terminal diagnosis is perhaps one of those situations where it is very hard, if not impossible, to know how we would feel. I have met many terminally ill people over recent weeks and every one of them is in my thoughts today.
Sophie, who is here today, was diagnosed with stage 4 secondary breast cancer, which has spread to her lungs, liver and pelvis. She is allergic to opioids, so she knows that her pain is very unlikely to be able to be managed. She has a 17-year-old daughter. All she asks is to have the choice to say goodbye to her daughter at a time of her choosing, in circumstances that she can have some control over, and for her daughter to be able to remember her as the vibrant, positive woman she is.
Nathaniel, who also joins us today, has stage 4 incurable bowel cancer, which is now in his liver and brain. Like many of us, Nat says that he does not know whether he would choose an assisted death or not, but he simply cannot understand why anyone would want to deny him the choice. He says:
“I wish to live as fully as I can and for as long as possible. But when the time comes”,
Nat also wants
“the right to die with dignity and compassion”.
Another very emotional lady came up to me at a recent interfaith event. She and her husband thanked me for putting the Bill forward. She said, “Kim, I am a proud Christian and I am guided by my faith. But I also have terminal cancer and I want the right to choose a compassionate death.”
There has been much discussion about the views of people who hold religious beliefs. I fully respect those beliefs and do not intend to say much more about this, other than that I know there are a range of views within faith communities. Indeed, some of the most powerful conversations that I have had have been with people of faith, including in my own constituency. People of different religions have said that although they would not choose an assisted death for themselves or their family, who are they to stop someone else who may want to make that choice?
If the Bill were to become law, it would contain the most robust and strongest set of safeguards and protections in the world. Very strict eligibility criteria and multiple layers of checks and safeguards are embedded in the Bill, none of which, as we have seen, exist at the moment. I made a conscious decision to name it the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill, rather than anything else. That title can never be changed and ensures that only adults who were dying would ever come within its scope. As such, the Bill is not about people choosing between life and death; it is about giving dying people with six months or less to live autonomy about how they die and the choice to shorten their deaths.
The Bill does not apply to people with mental health conditions. It does not apply to the elderly. It does not apply to people with chronic health conditions, and it does not apply to disabled people, unless, of course, they have a terminal illness, in which case they would and should be entitled to the same rights as anyone else.
There are different views within the disabled community. As Professor of Disability Research, Sir Tom Shakespeare says that it is unacceptable that people with disabilities continue to face social stigma and inequalities, but that it would be a mistake to conclude that we should oppose legalising assisted dying for terminally ill people until those wider problems are fixed. He says that it is paternalistic and wrong to imply that inequalities will be resolved by reducing choices, and that a clear, transparent legal framework for end-of-life choice is better for everyone. He is right. There is, of course, still work to do in the fight for equality for people with disabilities, but once again it is not an either/or. I will campaign alongside many others in this place for those rights, but I will also campaign for the rights of terminally ill people, because their rights are as important as anybody else’s rights.
Under the Bill, any terminally ill person who wants to be considered for an assisted death would have to undertake a thorough and robust process involving two doctors and a High Court judge. No other jurisdiction in the world has those layers of safeguarding. The person requesting assistance must have mental capacity and a settled wish at every stage. That means they must repeatedly demonstrate that they understand the information relevant to their decision, the ability to retain that information, and to use or weigh that information as part of the process of making the decision. We know that capacity can fluctuate which is why it is assessed at every step of the process.
The court must speak to one of the doctors and can hear from anybody else they deem necessary. If there is any evidence of coercion, the court will not approve the request, and if evidence emerges subsequently, the court order could be revoked. It is also important to note that the person can change their mind at any time, with periods of reflection built in. Having consulted at the highest levels in the judiciary and the medical profession, I know that they can and will fulfil those safeguarding responsibilities and that they have the expertise to do so.[Official Report, 29 November 2024; Vol. 757, c. 1079.] (Correction)
Let us be clear: as my hon. Friend the Member for Sittingbourne and Sheppey (Kevin McKenna) said earlier, this is not brand new territory for doctors. Doctors, working in partnership with other clinicians, are already required to manage complexity in end-of-life decision making. I followed the request of the British Medical Association that doctors should be under no obligation whatsoever to participate, but if they do participate, they will receive appropriate training and support. Doctors should be able to use their professional judgment when and if a conversation takes place, taking their cue from the patient, as they do for many other issues. I welcome that patient-centred approach. Many doctors feel the change in the law would safeguard clinicians and patients by making everything explicit.
When it comes to the detail of what assisted dying would look like, we have the benefit of drawing on the experience of 31 jurisdictions around the world. I could talk extensively about the international experience of assisted dying. The Health and Social Care Committee report did a brilliant job of that, and this Bill has looked at best practice as well as models which I and many others would not be comfortable with our having here in England and Wales.
Reflecting on their experience, clinicians in Australia say:
“through deep and meaningful conversations between doctors, patients and their loved ones we can dispel fear, reduce suffering, bring death and dying out of the shadows, and so allow patients and their families a better quality of life and quality of death”.
As one Australian Member of Parliament said:
“We have brought ‘behind-closed-doors’ practices into the open and given dying people meaningful, transparent choices. Crucially none of the fears that were put forward as reasons not to change the law have been realised. The status quo was broken and assisted dying works.”
Evidence from around the world shows that the option of having an assisted death actually lifts the fear that terminally ill people have, and that many never actually use it but are able to make the best of the time they have left due to the comfort and reassurance that it provides.
People talk about a slippery slope, but the Health and Social Care Committee found that not one jurisdiction that has passed laws on the basis of terminal illness has expanded its scope. [Interruption.] That is absolutely true. As the courts here and in Europe have repeatedly made clear, Parliament is sovereign. This Bill could not be made any broader through any judicial process.
Speaking of process, with reference to the Bill, having listened to what I know are genuine concerns of Members about ensuring that we get this legislation right, I commit to the House that if the Bill passes Second Reading today, which I sincerely hope it does, I am minded to move a motion that gives the Bill Committee the power to take oral and written evidence in order to ensure that a thorough approach continues to be taken. That is not normal procedure for a private Member’s Bill, but I think that that is the right thing to do. I also reassure colleagues that the Bill Committee will meet over a number of weeks, meaning that there is ample time for full consideration of the details of the Bill, including amendments. The Committee will be representative of the views and make-up of the House. Let me be clear: that will mean there will be representatives of different parties with a range of views on the Committee.
As the Leader of the House said at the Dispatch Box just yesterday, and has said several times, the Government will, of course, work with me to ensure that the Bill is workable and operable. That will quite rightly take time, and I have included in the Bill a commencement period of up to two years—this is not going to happen overnight. That timeframe can be explored in Committee, as it is more important to get this right than to do it quickly.
In conclusion, for the reasons I have set out, I am very clear that the law needs to change to give terminally ill people choice at the end of life and to protect their loved ones from fear of prosecution. There will be some of us here today who are lucky enough not to have personal experience of this issue, but sadly we know that any one of us could end up in this heartbreaking situation. We are all living longer, which is brilliant, and I have campaigned inside and outside Parliament for a greater focus on prevention and early intervention of illness and disease to keep us fit and healthy for as long as possible, but any one of us or our loved ones could be unfortunate or unlucky enough to receive a terminal diagnosis. I struggle to see how it is fair or just to deny anyone the autonomy, dignity and personal choice of taking control of their final weeks. And the right to choose does not take away the right not to choose. Giving the choice of an assisted death to those who want it would of course not stop anyone who is terminally ill from choosing not to make that choice.
Whatever happens today, I am incredibly proud of the work that my fantastic team and the many campaigners have done on this hugely significant, emotional and sensitive subject. We need to be clear: a vote to take this Bill forward today is not a vote to implement the law tomorrow. It is a vote to continue the debate. It is a vote to subject the Bill to line-by-line scrutiny in Committee, on Report and on Third Reading. Then, of course, the Bill will go to the Lords for what I have no doubt will be further robust debate and scrutiny. This will be a thorough process, focused on one of the most significant issues of our time—an issue that people across the country clearly want us to address, none more so than the many families who are facing the brutal and cruel reality of the status quo. Today is the beginning, not the end, of that process, but the debate can continue only if colleagues join me in the Aye lobby today. I wholeheartedly encourage them to do so, and I commend the Bill to the House.
I start by paying tribute to the hon. Member for Spen Valley (Kim Leadbeater) for her very powerful speech and the way in which she has led this campaign—with great respect, sensitivity and, to use a contested word, dignity. She and I knew each other before we were MPs, when we both worked in the charity sector. I like and admire her greatly, and I know that we have more in common than might appear today.
All of us in this House have this in common: we all share a deep concern about the experience of people dying or fearing death, pain and suffering. I bear heavily on my conscience the people whose lives will be prolonged beyond their wishes if I get my way and this Bill is defeated today. I will not disregard those people or minimise their anxiety. We will hear those voices in today’s debate—we have heard many of them already—speaking through hon. Members in what I know will be very moving speeches.
If I voted for this Bill, I would have on my conscience many more people whose voices we cannot hear—the people who would be vulnerable as a consequence of the huge changes that this Bill would introduce in our society and in the NHS. My view is that if we get our broken palliative care system right and our wonderful hospices properly funded, we can do so much more for all the people who we will hear about today, using modern pain relief and therapies to help everybody die with a minimum of suffering when the time comes. We will not be able to do that if we introduce this new option; instead, we will expose many more people to harm.
I will go through the Bill in a moment, but first I will say a word about process, in response to the points made by the hon. Member for Spen Valley. This Bill is simply too big for the time that it has been given, and I implore hon. Members not to hide behind the fiction that it can be amended substantially in Committee and in its later stages. The remaining stages of a private Member’s Bill are for minor tweaks, not the kind of wholesale restructuring that we would need if we were ever to make this Bill safe. Members who vote for the Bill today must be prepared to see it become law largely unamended. I suggest that if they have any doubts, the only responsible choice is to vote no, and let the advocates of assisted dying bring back a better Bill at another time.
Let me explain the concerns about the Bill that I think are too comprehensive to be dealt with in Committee. I recognise how hard the hon. Member for Spen Valley has worked to try to ensure that it is safe, but I do not believe it is, for the following reasons. Let us start at the beginning. The process starts with a conversation between a patient and a medical practitioner—not necessarily a doctor; just a medic of some sort, unspecified at this stage. If the patient tells their ordinary family doctor that they want an assisted death, the doctor is obliged to either explain how it works or pass them on to someone who will do it—which is probably what will happen, by the way. The likelihood is that we would see a new branch of medicine spring up, like the medics I met in Canada.
These medics I met in Canada are specialists in assisted death and personally kill hundreds of patients a year in their special clinics. [Interruption.] If hon. Members have difficulty with the language, then I wonder what they are doing here. This is what we are talking about. I met doctors for whom this is their profession and their job, and they are proud to do it.
“a registered medical practitioner…who has such training, qualifications and experience as the Secretary of State may specify by regulations”.
Obviously they are some sort of regulated medic—I recognise that—but they are not necessarily a doctor. We will find out. I recognise that they will have professional qualifications, but it is not clear what those are going to be because it is not in the Bill.
Going back to the conversation that the patient has with the medical practitioner, the crucial point is that the conversation does not need to be started by the patient, according to the Bill. It could be started by the medic—any medic—perhaps in hospital, who could make the suggestion of an assisted death to a patient who has never raised the issue themselves, whose family have never suggested it and whose own doctor does not think it is the right thing to do. And so the idea is planted.
Then, for whatever reason—and, by the way, there is no need ever to give a reason—the patient says that they want to proceed with an assisted death. They sign a declaration, or rather somebody else can sign it for them. It could be any professional, someone they do not know—maybe a new medical practitioner. A total stranger can do all the paperwork on their behalf. That is what the clause about the proxy entails. Then these two medical practitioners make their assessment.
“In this section “proxy” means—
(a) a person who has known the person making the declaration personally for at least 2 years, or
(b) a person who is of good standing in the community.”
So there is no protection such as that which is pretended by the supporters of the Bill.
The assessments have to determine whether the patient is terminally ill, whether they have mental capacity to make the decision, and then whether they have been coerced or pressured into the decision. In many ways the whole issue turns on the question of whether someone is terminally ill. I am afraid that it is a term of great elasticity, almost to the point of meaninglessness. It is well known, as the right hon. Member for Belfast East (Gavin Robinson) said earlier, that it is impossible for doctors to predict with any accuracy that somebody will die within six months. It is a purely subjective judgment, made in this case by a doctor whose job will be approving assisted deaths. They simply have to determine not whether it is reasonably certain that death will occur, but that it can be reasonably expected—in other words, that it is possible.
The whole question of the six-month cut-off is very important. I acknowledge all the points that have been made, but there is another problem with the definition of terminal illness. Almost anybody with a serious illness or disability could fit the definition. I recognise that these are not the cases that the hon. Member for Spen Valley has in mind—of course they are not—but that is the problem with the Bill. All that someone needs to do to qualify for an assisted death—for the definition of terminal illness—is refuse treatment, such as insulin if the person is diabetic. In the case of eating disorders, a topic on which I have worked with the hon. Member for Bath (Wera Hobhouse), a person just needs to refuse food. The evidence from jurisdictions around the world, and our own jurisprudence, shows that that would be enough to qualify someone for an assisted death.
As I have explained, pretty much anybody with a serious illness or disability could work out how to qualify for an assisted death under the Bill. Members may think that far-fetched, but it is what happens everywhere that assisted suicide is legal, including in Oregon.
The Bill’s scope is very broad. Members who think that assisted suicide for people with anorexia or other conditions that would not be regarded as terminal could not happen here should consider the young people in the UK today who are given a diagnosis of terminal anorexia and put on a palliative care pathway—essentially, assigned to death. Of course these are extreme cases—
There are a great many of these cases, I am afraid, and I mention them to show how wide open the Bill is. [Interruption.]
The second question that medical practitioners have to answer is about mental capacity, and here again is a great vagueness. How do they judge if someone is in their right mind when they are asking for help to kill themselves? The Bill says that the definition of capacity is based on the Mental Capacity Act 2005, but that Act is deliberately expansive. It explicitly assumes capacity in the patient, so having acute depression is no bar to being judged to have capacity under the Act. Being suicidal is no bar under the Act, so the capacity test is no bar at all.
Finally, there is the question of coercion. Is the patient asking for an assisted death because of pressure from someone else? There are two glaring problems here. The first is that the process does not even attempt to answer the question properly. There is no investigation, no requirement for medics to interview friends and family, and no need for a psychiatrist or family doctor to be consulted. The medics just need to satisfy themselves—who knows how?—that, to the best of their knowledge, the person has not been pressured.
The second problem with the coercion test is that it focuses on only one type of coercion—the less likely type. The bigger danger is not other people pressuring someone to do this; it is that they pressure themselves—hon. Members have made this point. The Bill has nothing to say on that. Internal pressure is absolutely fine. If you feel worthless or a burden to others, if the NHS will not offer you the treatment you need, if the local authority will not make the adjustments you need to your home, if you have to wait too long for a hospital appointment, or if you want to die because you think the system has failed you, that is absolutely fine.
That is the medical stage, and I will jump straight to the judicial stage. The medical practitioners sign it off, and then the judge has to confirm all the same tests. Of course, many eminent judges have made the point that it will overwhelm the family courts if the test were applied properly, but it will not be applied properly, because the Bill assumes that judges will fulfil a new inquisitorial role and actually look into cases as investigators, which is entirely unknown in English common law. But the Bill will not require any actual investigation.
There is no requirement for a judge even to meet the applicant. They simply have to have a phone call, or maybe it will be an email, from one of the medics. That is it. That is the inquiry. On that basis, the judge must decide whether it is more likely than not that there has been external pressure. After the judge approves it—they are required to approve it, unless they can find evidence of external coercion—we go to “the final act”, as the Bill says, where a junior colleague, as a medical practitioner, oversees your death by pills or lethal injection.
And here is the last thing that the Bill does or does not do. There is no requirement at any stage of the process—at either the medical or the judicial stage—for anyone to tell the patient’s next of kin, their wider family or even their GP that the NHS and the judicial system are working in secret to bring about the death of their loved one, maybe their father or their daughter. I say again that these are not the cases that the Bill was designed for, but they are directly in scope, and it is going to take more than a tweak in Committee to get them out.
Is this what is meant by having choice at the end of life? Let us talk about choice. I am often accused of wanting to impose my view on others—that point was made earlier. People say, “If you don’t approve of assisted death, don’t have one, but don’t deprive me of the choice.” In fact, the evidence is that, with this new option and the comparative loss of investment and innovation in palliative care, real choice will narrow. There is a broader point to make about choice, which is that no man or woman is an island. Just as every person’s death, even a good death, diminishes us all, so we will all be involved and affected if we make this change.
The Bill will not just create a new option for a few and leave everyone else unaffected; it will impose this new reality on every person towards the end of their life, on everyone who could be thought to be near death, and on their families—the option of assisted suicide, the obligation to have a conversation around the bedside or whispered in the corridor, “Is it time?” It will change life and death for everyone.
I am very aware of the terrible plight of the people who are begging us for this new law. I think we can do better for them than they fear, but we also need to think in real human terms about what the effect will be on the choices of other people, and I do not mean the people who are used to getting their way. I am talking about the people who lack agency, the people who know what it is to be excluded from power and to have decisions made for them by bigwigs in distant offices who speak a language they do not understand—the sort of people who the hon. Member for Spen Valley and I both know from our previous charity work, and who we all know from our constituency work. They are not the people who write to us campaigning for a change in the law, but the people who come to our surgeries with their lives in tatters, or who the police or social workers tell us about—the people with complex needs. What are the safeguards for them?
Let me tell the House: we are the safeguard—this place; this Parliament; you and me. We are the people who protect the most vulnerable in society from harm, yet we stand on the brink of abandoning that role. The Rubicon was a very small stream, but on the other side lies a very different world—a worse world, with a very different idea of human value. The idea that our individual worth lies in our utility, valuable only for so long as we are useful—not a burden, not a cost, not making a mess. Let us not be the Parliament that authorises that idea.
I mentioned at the start of my speech the voices of those we cannot hear: the frail and elderly and the disabled. As we are surrounded by such a cloud of witnesses, let us do better than this Bill. Let today be not a vote for despair, but the start of a proper debate about dying well, in which we have a better idea than a state suicide service. Let us have a debate in which we remember that we have intrinsic value; that real choice and autonomy means having access to the best care possible and the fullest control over what happens to us while we live; and that true dignity consists in being cared for to the end.
I am not against legalising assisted dying in any circumstance, but I have many reservations about this Bill. In particular, I do not believe that the safeguards are sufficient. They are supposed to be the strongest in the world because of the involvement of a High Court judge, but the divisional courts have said that
“the intervention of a court would simply interpose an expensive and time-consuming forensic procedure”.
Sir James Munby, the former president of the family division of the High Court, said recently:
“Only those who believe implicitly in judicial omniscience and infallibility—and I do not—can possibly have any confidence in the efficacy of what is proposed.”
Is the judge supposed to second-guess doctors? Will the judge make a decision on the basis of paperwork? Or will there be a hearing in open court? Where will be the capacity in the criminal justice system to deal with all this? Far from being a genuine safeguard, the involvement of a judge could just be a rubber stamp.
Robust safeguards for the sick and dying are vital to protect them from predatory relatives, to protect them from the state and, above all, to protect them from themselves. There will be those who say to themselves that they do not want to be a burden; I can imagine myself saying that in particular circumstances. Others will worry about assets they had hoped to leave for their grandchildren being eroded by the cost of care. There will even be a handful who will think they should not be taking up a hospital bed.
We are told that there is no evidence of coercion in jurisdictions where assisted suicide is possible, but people do not generally write letters to sick relatives urging them to consider assisted suicide and then put those letters on file. Coercion in the family context can be about not what you say but what you do not say—the long, meaningful pause.
People keep saying that the Bill cannot be amended, but of course any future Government could bring in new clauses. We can see what has happened in Canada, which introduced assisted dying in 2016 for adults with terminal illnesses. In 2021, it was extended to people with no terminal illness and the disabled. In March 2027, anyone with a serious mental health problem will also be eligible. The House should remember that no single organisation representing the disabled supports the Bill.
“we need to show we can do better at assisted living before deciding whether to legislate on ways to die.”
I represent very many vulnerable people in marginalised communities. I cannot vote for a Bill when I have doubts about whether they will be protected. We can come back, have a commission and craft a better Bill, but I will not be voting for the Bill today.
I strongly support the Bill, and I congratulate the hon. Member for Spen Valley (Kim Leadbeater) on the excellent way in which she has presented it. I believe that we should give our constituents—our fellow citizens—this choice. I want this choice for my constituents; I want it for those whom I love; and I want it, perhaps one day, for myself.
Secondly, in our democracy, the Commons must make this decision. Only we, elected by our constituents, have the legitimacy to do this. It is not the DPP, the Crown Prosecution Service, the police, doctors or even unelected Members of the House of Lords—this House of Commons must make this decision. Let us be clear that all of us on both sides of the debate strongly support an increase in the quality and extent of palliative care. For me, the debate is about extending choice, in very narrow and heavily regulated circumstances under the Bill, as the hon. Lady so clearly set out—the choice not to be forced to end your life in pain and indignity. No element in the Bill talks about intolerable suffering. Many believe that the Bill is too narrowly drawn. I stand by the hon. Lady’s drafting. We should remember that in Oregon there has been no serious attempt to change or amend the law.
I had the privilege of speaking to an NHS consultant last year, the day before she headed to Dignitas. She said, “I love my country, but I object very strongly to my country forcing me to make this choice, and to having to travel unaccompanied to a foreign country to die.” The status quo is cruel and dangerous. People caught up in these circumstances have no transparency; there is no regulation, safeguards or oversight. The Bill contains a whole series of safeguards that are not present at the moment.
Thirdly, we are deciding today on a principle. If the Bill is voted down on Second Reading, that will be the end of the matter for many years, and we will do that in the knowledge that Scotland, the Isle of Man, Jersey and many other countries are likely to bring in legislation like this. There are 300 million people in 30 jurisdictions who have secured this ability to choose. There will be numerous safeguards. There will not be a slippery slope unless this Parliament agrees to there being one. If we agree to a Second Reading today it is, in my judgment, inconceivable that the Government Front Bench will not ensure we have the proper time to scrutinise the Bill.
This Bill goes with the grain of our constituents’ views—about 75%, according to the most recent polling. There is an opportunity and a chance, as the hon. Member for Spen Valley has set out, to consider in detail these matters ahead of Third Reading. As drafted, the Bill seems to me a very modest and controlled proposal. Let us not forget this: Oregon shows us that fewer people take these steps once they know they have this choice as a back-up.
I end with something I have never forgotten. Some years ago, I was listening in a debate to a young man who had recently lost his father. He had visited his father and seen him in great pain and indignity. He had seen him three days before he died. In the end his father put a bag over his head and used his dressing-gown cord to hang himself. That young man said to all of us: “If you are ever in this position, let’s hope that God will help you, because they certainly won’t.” Today, this House has the opportunity to ensure that they will.
In 2015, in the last Chamber debate on this subject, I wound up for the Opposition Front Bench, but my interest in it goes back much further. Like all Members of this House, I have had hundreds of emails from constituents on both sides of the argument. Many ask me to oppose the Bill; those emails come from people of faith, and I wholly and entirely respect what they say, but they are the first people also to say that this is an individual decision for every individual Member of the House to make.
As I have been at the bottom of the list of speakers to be called for so many years, I have great sympathy for those who find themselves there today, so I will try to keep my remarks to one narrow point: the legal context of the Bill. There is a false dichotomy that the law as it stands is fit for purpose, that we go into the unknown with the Bill before us and that we should somehow keep the safety of the status quo. I think that could not be more wrong. There are no safeguards in the current law. The only sanction against coercion is ex post facto; we are leaving it to individual directors of public prosecutions to make decisions in individual cases after the event.
DPPs take that job extremely seriously, as anyone knows who has heard Sir Max Hill, the last DPP to speak on the subject. They have, at the instigation of the courts, set out guidelines—I think we know that it was an excellent Director of Public Prosecutions who set out the guidelines on this case. They have done everything they can, but it is not their responsibility; it is our responsibility, and the courts, up to and including the Supreme Court, have made that clear.
We assign in this Bill a role to the High Court as part of the process, but we are the final decision takers. That has been made clear not only by domestic, but by international courts; the European Court of Human Rights has said in every case in which such matters have come before it that the margin of appreciation should be put into effect and therefore it should not interfere with the law as we decide it. We cannot dodge our responsibilities and I know that we do not want to do that. We have a duty to put in place the best law we can, and that is not the law as it stands.
There are three choices for people who want to end their own lives. They can go to Dignitas alone, if they can afford to do that. They can attempt, and perhaps succeed in, suicide. They risk failing. If they succeed, they will have a lonely death. They may, as others have pointed out, simply have to resort to refusing treatment or food. The third option is that they can embroil their relatives or friends, at the risk of their being investigated or prosecuted. They also risk ending their lives too soon.
On safeguards, I do not follow the view of opponents of the Bill. At some times they seem to say that they are too complex, too expensive and that there are not enough resources. If we want to resource the Bill, we can. I do not think that those are the strongest arguments.
All the practical and legal considerations point towards the Bill. It may well be amended to change the safeguards or the way it operates, but we have the opportunity to do that. In the end, for me, that is not the decision. The decision is about two things: it is about human dignity and it is about agency. I would like to think that even at the end of life—no, especially at the end of life—when someone has their faculties but may be at their weakest ebb, they can still exercise that agency and still make decisions for themselves. They can have the longest life they can and they can end that life in the way that is most beneficial to them, their loved ones and their family. That is simply not happening, and by voting against the Bill today Members ignore those facts.
I am a co-sponsor of the Bill and I am the co-chair of the all-party parliamentary group for choice at the end of life. I could give a speech to promote the Bill, but my hon. Friend—and I do call her a friend—the Member for Spen Valley (Kim Leadbeater) has done that remarkably well. In my speech I want to address some of the common issues that have been raised, and that will no doubt be raised during the debate, with which I struggle.
First, we will no doubt hear an awful lot about the overseas experience. I am married to a Canadian, and I can tell the House that they love their children just as much as we do. The idea that the Canadians, Australians, New Zealanders, Spanish and Austrians care little for their relatives, or indeed for the wider society in which they live, is frankly offensive. We should not pretend that somehow we are special or different. They have thought as profoundly on these issues as we have over the past 10 years. We can learn from them, and design a system for our own sensibilities and culture, as they have done. They all have different laws on abortion, some of which we would not pass in this House, but that does not mean we should not have abortion laws here. We are a 1,000-year-old democracy, and we should be able to design legislation that deals with this issue for ourselves.
The second issue that has been raised with which I have struggled regards the impact on the NHS and on judges. People are already dying; they are already in the national health service and entitled to care. Even if we think there will be an impact, are people seriously telling me that my death, my agony, is too much for the NHS to have time for, or too much hassle? It is even claimed that such matters would overload the judges—that I should drown in my own faecal vomit because it is too much hassle for the judges to deal with. We send things from this House to the NHS and to judges all the time. Is anyone suggesting that we should not create the new offence of spiking, which has come through this week, because judges are overworked? Of course not. They will cope as they have done with all sorts of things that we have sent from this House over the years, and we should not countenance the idea that some logistical problem will get in the way of our giving a good death to our fellow citizens.
I also want to address directly those Members who are considering voting against the Bill, to ensure that they are clear in their minds that a vote against the Bill is not a passive act. There are two states of being on offer today. I have to break some news to Members: whatever happens to the Bill today, people with a terminal illness will still take their lives. If the Bill falls today, we will be consigning those people to taking their lives in brutal, violent ways, as they are at the moment, and will see increasing numbers of our fellow citizens making the trip to Switzerland if they can afford it. We know that between 600 and 700 people a year are killing themselves in violent ways—shooting themselves, throwing themselves in front of trains, taking overdoses in lonely, horrible circumstances. As I said, many are going to Switzerland, but more than that are lying in hospital—I guarantee that there will be somebody over the river in St Thomas’ hospital now who is refusing treatment and starving themselves to death because they cannot face what is in front of them.
Improvements also go hand in hand; medics from across the world told us that the two things are complementary. In Australia I discussed this issue with a palliative care doctor who was against the introduction of assisted dying when they were contemplating it. She now finds it an invaluable tool, and she embraces it as something that her patients want and need. My concern is that if the Bill is turned down, as it was in 2015, the conversation about palliative care will wither, as it has done for the past 10 years.
I want to share a story that has particularly affected me. Mark Crampton was a former police chief inspector who was suffering from chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. His COPD became too much for him, so he informed his family that he was going to take his own life. He took his oxygen tank and mask and late one night went out and sat on a railway embankment. He wanted a death that was instant and quick, and that he could rely on. He waited until 2 in the morning—heartbreakingly, he had worked out when the last train was going, so he would minimise disruption to the public—and then took his life in lonely circumstances in the middle of the night. By not passing the Bill, we would deny to Mark supervision, conversation, access to doctors, periods of reflection, advice. Even if he had been through all that and decided it was still too much, the Bill would give him a much better end than he actually achieved. Members should be clear, as I say, that whatever happens to the Bill, terminal people will still take their lives.
I have to say to the hon. Member for Brent West (Barry Gardiner), who says that hundreds of people dying in agony every year is a price worth paying for the good of society, that I find that an appalling prospect. A society that looks away from these people —like those in the Public Gallery who are living in terrible fear of what will face them, or who have watched their families die in fear—and says that that is okay for the good of the whole is a terrible, terrible prospect. We have a duty to assist them, as other countries around the world have done, and to find a way to make them comfortable in the end.
Finally, I want to talk briefly about rights. We hear a lot about rights in this debate—quite rightly. We hear about the rights and fears of the disabled community, who are specifically excluded from the Bill; we hear a lot about the rights and fears of the elderly, who are also specifically excluded from the Bill; we are even hearing about the rights of doctors, who are allowed to conscientiously object to participating in this process, if they wish. When are we going to have the conversation about the rights of the dying? Where do we put them in the ranking of rights, as they face their end? When do we grant them the autonomy and choice for which so many of them have campaigned over the years? Surely, as they come towards the end of their life, their rights have to be at the forefront of our mind. The last, best gift we can give them is control over the disease that is destroying them.
If we do not pass the Bill today, we are cornering all those people; we are trapping them, with the law, in their disease, and consigning them to an end of torture and degradation that they do not wish to go through. As I said before, we are a 1,000-year old democracy. It is not beyond us to design legislation that will give those people what they want, while protecting those whom we feel need to be protected. Like my right hon. Friend the Member for Sutton Coldfield (Mr Mitchell), I want this choice for my constituents, but profoundly I want it for myself and for the people in the Public Gallery who have worked so hard over the past decade to get us to change our minds.
I ask Members please to be clear that whatever happens today, terminal people will still take their own lives—all we are deciding today is how.
Thankfully, most die in peace, but tragically not all. Funding for palliative care has regressed against rising demand in an ageing society with growing comorbidities. Hospices are paring back services. Research by the Anscombe Bioethics Centre in Oxford highlights how jurisdictions with assisted dying fall down the rankings on palliative care, while promised funding never materialises. When more than 100,000 people, predominantly in poverty, from minoritised communities or based on postcode, fail to access any palliative care despite needing it, or when those who access care do so from frequently overstretched services, unable to make timely or optimised interventions, or when, for most, care starts far too late, tragic testimonies follow, as we have heard in recent days.
We all know that the NHS is under significant duress, and just cannot do what it should. Social care is fragmented and costly, and palliative care is significantly underfunded and inequitable. This is a mess. Following Lord Darzi’s devastating report, we must give my right hon. Friend the Health Secretary the opportunity to reset health and care. I believe that that is what we on these Benches were elected to do.
With just 17 days since publication, this Bill has consumed us and that will only intensify if it proceeds. Instead, our focus should be on getting palliation right and then seeing what is really needed. We cannot do both as there is simply not the capacity. More than 70% of the public say that they want a commission on palliative and end-of-life care before we consider assisted dying. Other polls agree. Plans for a commission are well advanced.
My constituent was just 46 when she received a terminal diagnosis. She did not have long; the cancer was advancing and the prognosis would have qualified her for an assisted death. Had it been law, she would have consented. Now 54 and in remission, she pleads that the Bill should not pass. Palliative care consultants say that it is nearly impossible to prognosticate at six months; just 46% get it right. Experts say that the arbitrary six-month threshold is insecure. We must recognise its prematurity. Clause 2(2) says that someone for whom treatment only relieves symptoms but does not cure them would qualify for an assisted death if they were within the criteria. We understand someone declining chemotherapy, but the provision extends to any condition where a cocktail of drugs is sustaining life. The person involved may be only 18. That would not need a change in the law; it is written in the Bill.
My greatest concern is coercion. We live in a coercive society; the UK spends £40 billion on advertising and ever more powerful algorithms drive us to content online. We recognise coercion in relationships or elder abuse, but the Bill fails to safeguard against it when someone is dying and there is malign intent. People often recognise coercion only after years have passed, yet within a month someone could be dead. Malign coercion cases may be few, but as a clinician working at the fringes of life, I heard my patients frequently say, “I don’t want to be a burden,” or “I’d rather the money went to the grandchildren than on my care,” or “Somebody is more deserving than me.”
Intrinsic coercion is very real, not least where the law has changed—rapidly becoming an expectation, verbalised as a duty to die. In fact, not wanting to be a burden is cited as a major reason to opt for an assisted death, alongside loss of dignity, loneliness, and needing personal care, yet every day, disabled people live in this reality. We fight in this House to take away stigma and give dignity, equality and worth. That is why disabled people fear the Bill: it devalues them in a society where they fight to live.
We should understand why Disability Rights UK opposes and why Liberty opposes: to push back against the Bill is the cause of the progressive and the libertarian, not just the domain of the conservative. Under this Bill, a doctor may raise an assisted death with their patient—clause 4(2). Given the trust we place in doctors, not least when people are vulnerable, this is so significantly coercive. Let us suppose there is unconscious bias, which is well known in healthcare. Before people question that assertion, let me cite the industrial application of the Liverpool care pathway, and then, five and a half years after its ban, the covid “Do not actively resuscitate” letters. The evidence shows that disabled and ethnic minority people experience bias in healthcare. Those who stand for equality will recognise the safeguarding failures in the Bill. While not wanting to encourage suicidal ideation, rates are 6% higher in jurisdictions where there is assisted suicide.
On the process, two doctors—possibly unknown to the patient—ask a set of questions. It can take days to establish capacity in the courts, but it only needs a consultation. That is the same for assessing coercion and prognosis. Doctors are proponents of assisted dying. Risk increases in closed environments. At least the Isle of Man is considering a parole board-style approach; this Bill does not. The documentation of the decision fails in its rigour, not even seeking evidence for the decision. It is passed to a judge.
Sir James Munby, former family division president, describes,
“a scheme which does not provide for an open and transparent process but, on the contrary, permits a secret process which can give us no confidence that it will enable the court to identify and prevent possible abuses.”
In decrying how the Bill changes the role of the judge to one of certifying compliance, he states,
“the Leadbeater Bill falls lamentably short of providing adequate safeguards,”
describing the suspension of any appeal as an “extraordinary” omission, not least if the patient’s concerned relative or physician cannot take their case. That is backed by Thomas Teague KC, former chief coroner, who said the safeguards “will not hold” and that they
“amount to nothing more than arbitrary restrictions, with no rational foundation.”
Lord Sumption, former Supreme Court judge, highlights that once the law facilitates assisted suicide, it could be deemed discriminatory to deny others—disabled people—the same right. Barristers say they will take cases. They expect the law to change.
Much would rely on regulations using the negative procedure, and some the affirmative. Even if not prepared within two years, clause 42(3) says the Act would be fully implemented. The Bill changes the role of the chief medical officer without any analysis, as is the case for doctors. During the 14-month Health and Social Care Committee inquiry, we heard how the clinician-patient relationship changed with assisted suicide. Record keeping and data collation is inadequate, as we found in Oregon.
Clause 18(9) highlights that the procedure may fail. The Bill is silent on how to manage such cases, but it should be explicit. We must acknowledge that it is not always peaceful. We learned in Oregon that some have seizures or vomit as the body rejects the toxic medication.
The Bill falls woefully short on safeguarding patients, too. It is too flawed to amend. It is a wrong and rushed answer to a complex problem. Today, we must be beyond reasonable doubt of error if voting for the Bill. Remember, the vote is not on the principle of assisted dying or on choice, but the principles detailed within the clauses of the Bill. Polling overwhelmingly says that if Members are in any doubt, the public expect them to vote against the Bill today. We can focus on optimising palliative and end of life medicine to build consensus and to discern what further steps need taking. For death, as with life, is too precious to get this wrong.
Most things we do in this place have some bearing on life and death, but it is rare we discuss those concepts in their most visceral and direct forms. As a nation, we do not talk about death nearly enough, especially while we are well, but it happens to us all, so I welcome the chance to enable better conversations not just in this place together, but in people’s own minds for themselves. No matter how anyone votes today, I hope that we can all agree that this debate is a profound and proud moment for our democracy.
To that end, I want to be up front: I will be voting for the Bill today, because I want this conversation to continue. To those arguing the moral grounds and making the point that we are crossing the Rubicon, I sincerely respect their views. These are moral judgments. There will be Members who are making the moral case, and I want to hear them. But I urge those MPs who might be minded to vote for the Bill on principle, but are worried about the details—how we might change a word, the role of clinicians or MPs, or whatever it may be—to reconsider the question they are asking themselves today.
This is Second Reading. The media are asking all of us, “Are you for or against the Bill?”, but I urge hon. Members to think about the question differently. The question I will be answering today is, “Do I want to keep talking about the issues in the Bill?” I am asking myself if I want to keep grappling with the detail until I get to Third Reading, when I might reserve the right to vote no. They can decide the answer to that question for themselves.
I want to come on to palliative care, which is really important. The message from the sector, patients and their families is crystal clear: palliative care is not good enough and we must do better.
I say to the Secretary of State for Health and Social Care, who is in his place, that the gauntlet has been thrown down. If he wants someone like me to not vote for the Bill moving forward, he needs to do two things: he needs to put firm commitments on palliative care on the table and resolve them within the next one or two years, and then, afterwards, commit to bringing back a Bill like this one in Government time. Without those firm commitments, I will continue to make the case for wanting to see progress.
I want to end by giving a tiny amount of my time to someone who is in the Gallery today. Tracey, I cannot see you right now, but thank you for coming. I said to Tracey, my constituent, when we met that I would allow some of her words to be spoken today. Tracey was 58 when she was diagnosed with incurable stage 4 breast cancer, which spread to become a brain tumour in 2023. It was successfully removed, but Tracey lives every day knowing that her cancer is likely to return. These are the words Tracey wants us to hear:
“Despite this prognosis I can honestly say that I am a happy person now. I feel lucky to have made it to 60. There is just one black cloud on the horizon for me, and it is the way that I will die. I am terrified that I will suffer a long, painful death. If I knew I had the choice to have a good death, these worries would disappear. Please change the law so I can live what life I have left, safe in the knowledge that I have a choice about how and when I die. If you do this, I will be able to live even more happily today knowing that I do not need to worry about the prospect of a cruel and painful death.”
I will end by saying that there are sincerely held views being heard today. Let this be this Parliament that ensures, regardless of how we vote today, that we give people a good death.
It is genuinely our privilege to be able to say that this is what we want or what we do not want. We may not be facing this right now in our lives, but when you are, you think about it deeply. I will be voting for the Bill today. I think about this all the time—I need to maybe get a bit of a life—because it really is something that bothers me. It is an honour for all of us in the Chamber to be able to debate this today, whatever our views. I have to say, this is just not easy. I want everybody out there to know that it is not easy. It is really difficult, and it is difficult for those on both sides of the debate.
I will get to the Bill now, because as has been pointed out, we are here to talk about the Bill, not to get overly emotional. I want to talk about how it impacts Wales. I hope we will be able amend the Bill to take consideration of these things, and I hope that we can look at this in detail in the Lords. I believe that the Bill should pass today, because we need to discuss it and know how it is going to work. As it is currently drafted, we will need to look to the Welsh Government to see if there needs to be a legislative consent motion, because it does not seem to engage with the Sewel convention in a substantive way.
Issues that have been raised with me include that the Bill places multiple duties on the Secretary of State in England around codes of practice and ensuring assistance within the NHS. The Welsh Government need to be happy with the Secretary of State in England deciding how services are to be provided within the Welsh NHS. There will need to be an amendment, which I suspect will then engage with the Sewel convention.
The need for subordinate legislation to enact the Bill is really complicated, and we need to see how it will be passed in this place. There are issues around the codes of practice, because some of them are devolved. I want to highlight that, because regardless of the emotional stories that we will hear today, we need to mindful that the Bill has an impact on legislation in Wales. It is very important that if the Bill does go through today, those discussions are had, because everybody’s life matters, and we have to get this legislation right.
I do not want to take up any more time, but I thank all my hon. Friends and, in particular, my hon. Friend the Member for Spen Valley, who has been an absolute gem.
I strongly believe that we should respect and support the right to bodily autonomy for people with full decision-making capacity, subject to the caveat that it does not cause serious harm to others. I argued for this when I was on the working group of the independent review of the Mental Health Act 1983 and on the pre-legislative scrutiny Committee on the Mental Health Bill, which, among other things, aims to prevent people from coming to harm when suffering from severe mental illness. These reforms were debated in the House of Lords this week, and they demonstrate how Parliament should legislate in complex areas that balance individual autonomy and risk.
In contrast, as a private Member’s Bill, there is limited ability for scrutinising this Bill’s provisions. It has had no independent review, no pre-legislative scrutiny and no impact assessments. Many MPs support the principle of assisted dying yet have concerns about implementation, resource implications and safeguarding. That is why I, along with colleagues on both sides of the House, tabled a reasoned amendment calling for an independent review and consultation before a vote in Parliament, to provide a third way through. I thank the Members who supported the amendment, particularly the hon. Members for Shipley (Anna Dixon) and for Twickenham (Munira Wilson), for their work and their extensive and careful consideration.
Although the general debate on assisted dying may focus largely on the principles, legislation must address the limits to and the safeguards on consent. Should people be able to agree to a medically assisted death? If so, what restrictions, if any, should there be on people who can make this decision—age, capacity, terminal illness, intolerable suffering? And then, what safeguards are there to uphold these limits and to prevent abuse—assessments by two doctors, judicial scrutiny?
Given that the main argument I see in favour of assisted dying is the exercise of personal autonomy, I believe the most substantive issues we need to wrestle with are the limits that we set. Why is this Bill limited to the terminally ill and not those who are suffering without that being terminal? What even comes within the scope of terminal illness? With the refusal of treatment and medication, conditions such as type 1 diabetes and HIV can be designated as terminal, despite being fully treatable.
There are many questions, but in this Bill the most prominent problem is that, in a legal context, if the availability of assisted dying is limited only to those who are terminally ill, it is discriminatory either to those with or without terminal illness. Either their right to autonomy is greater than others’, or the value of their life is worth less.
We must also ask whether autonomy can be exercised where there is no choice. If good palliative care is simply not available, can we really rely on this as a true and free decision? I would argue that we cannot, and that this Bill does not safeguard against coercion through state neglect.
What is fundamental to me, given my interest in capacity, is that we have not considered how much human decision making is driven by altruistic intentions. “I did it for my children” is rightly a primary motivation in many settings, but as a society are we comfortable with a decision to seek a medically assisted death so as not to be a burden on one’s family or to save them money?
This will not impact on capacity. We cannot pretend that capacity assessments will be a shield for these moral concerns. Where is the line, if there is one, between indirect coercion and the natural human responses in a stressed family unit looking after a sick loved one?
I believe that we could introduce legislation on assisted dying that has fully reviewed and addressed these issues, but parliamentarians must deal with what we have in front of us today. Proponents on both sides of the debate frame this vote on Second Reading as a vote on the principle of assisted dying, but in reality it is a vote on implementation as put forward in this Bill.
As a former mental health doctor, I am proud that I was there for the most vulnerable. Today, I think about those without a voice in this debate or in the TV studios. I think about the elderly woman in the care home with mild cognitive impairment, who retains capacity but is nevertheless vulnerable to coercion and undue influence, or the sick mother whose child may lose their job or their relationship due to the burden of caring responsibilities. The Bill would not protect them. It risks placing implicit pressure on people already vulnerable at a time of life when they should receive our unwavering care and support. We should and must vote it down.
Like most of us, I came into politics partly to stand up for the vulnerable, and we have heard heartbreaking stories today about those vulnerable at the point of death. We have also heard—and I concur completely with my right hon. Friend the Member for Hackney North and Stoke Newington (Ms Abbott)—about those who are vulnerable for other reasons and who could be coerced or persuaded down this route.
I have had the privilege of being around the hospice movement for nearly 50 years, as my father established one of the first national health service hospices in this country. I saw what he did as a doctor in a world where death was not talked about, where surgeons would say, “We’ll whip this bit out and you’ll be fine.” He would be one of the first to have to tell the patient that they were actually going to die. The work that he did, on the back of giants such as Dame Cicely Saunders, is something we should be proud of. We were the first country in the world to recognise palliative care as a separate profession, and some of the tragedies we have heard about today arose from a failure in that system. A failure in palliative care and support is not a reason to continue.
I have personal experience of this. Many hon. Members will remember when my daughter was very ill a few years ago. I had not intended to speak about this today, but she was admitted to hospital as a teenager with acute pancreatitis. The Bill would not have covered her, but I did not know for five days—in fact, many months—whether she would live or die. For those first five days she did not sleep and she did not eat, and she was crying out in pain. I saw what good medicine can do. It palliated that pain and got her to a place where, although she was unable to eat for two and a half months, she was saved and her pain was managed. Our best friends were the pain nurses and the anaesthetists. I have other examples of another family member, but I do not have time to go into them today.
I hope my daughter forgives me for raising her personal situation in the House today—
We have seen many failures in the system, including contaminated blood, and whistleblowing in the NHS repeatedly shows such failures. There is great trust among those who support the Bill that these safeguards will deliver. I will not go into the details, because others have already done so, and I am sure that many more will, but we made coercive control illegal in 2015, and although the Bill refers to safeguards, I fear that that will not pick up coercive control. When we ruled it to be illegal, we thought that was a moment of progress in the House.
Given the time, I will now move on to some of the practical challenges. My constituents are struggling to see doctors face to face, and seeing the same doctor twice seems like a miracle in today’s Britain. My right hon. Friend the Health Secretary is trying to sort it out, but it will take a long time. We need to sort out our battling health service, we need to support palliative care, and we need to discuss what a good death is. Cicely Saunders campaigned and triumphed to ensure that we had one of the best hospice movements in the world.
If Members have any doubt in their minds about the impact of the Bill on people who do not have the same capacity as those who are talking about this in the television and radio studios, they should think of those in my constituency who have poor English, or the woman who came to see me a month ago with terrible pain in her gall bladder. Removing it would have been a simple daytime operation, but she did not understand what the doctor had told her, and she was not going to have her gall bladder taken out because she did not know what it meant to be without a gall bladder. Let me say this to those Members: if someone who was English, a bright woman in her 60s, was unable to challenge what was said to her and to have that conversation with a doctor, just think what passing the Bill today would mean for many more vulnerable people.
I thank the House for its indulgence.
“I apologise for adding to the thousands of emails you will be receiving. I just wanted to tell you why I oppose the right to die Bill. I know you are aware of the experience I had when my husband was dying. In hospital we had a dreadful experience because they had no end-of-life care and he suffered. Once in the Hospice it was a different story and he received the loving care he rightly deserved.
My argument is that, instead of assisted dying, we should be spending much more money on end-of-life care and funding the wonderful Hospice movement. Thank you for reading this.”
I will read another letter, from a doctor, which I think encapsulates some of the problems that we encounter in this issue:
“Only recently, I was giving my condolences to a grieving woman who had lost her husband in the early hours. He had been given a few small doses of pain relief and mild sedatives over the last few nights for symptom control and had passed away peacefully at her side. She asked me in all seriousness, ‘Doctor, did the nurses give him something to make him die quicker last night?’ This was an awful lingering doubt that she had. I was able to firmly reassure her that, no, the medication would not have sped up his passing.
For her, and the vast majority of other patients, doctors are there to prolong life and palliate symptoms. Were this to change, then we would not be doctors in the eyes of many, but bringers of death, agents of a state which counts its weakest members as expendable and worthy of nothing but an early grave.
I do not want to be a member of a profession which has that reputation or role”.
Those are two witnesses who have written to me. I have taken an increasing interest in this whole issue of palliative care, and the law frankly—
The law is so unclear. I have talked to a number of palliative care specialists, and they say that we can give as much morphine as we want to a patient and we will not kill them, but there is real doubt in the minds of the public. A lot of the impetus around this debate, and the reason why people in opinion polls are apparently supportive of this measure, is that they are terrified of dying in pain. There is no need for this. When I talk to consultants and practitioners in palliative care, they say that they can manage pain. I was struck by a very touching email that was sent to me by a constituent, who actually supports the Bill on the grounds that when his wife was dying, and he was begging the doctor in a national health hospital to give her more morphine, the doctor said, “If I did that, I would be breaking the law.”
I can see the Health Secretary is sitting here, and I really think that if we are going to have a serious debate about this issue, we need to have something equivalent to a royal commission to determine what doctors can and cannot do. It is essential that we really reassure the public. There is tremendous interest in and huge doubt about this issue. Many people are conflicted, and we have heard many moving stories about people’s fear of dying in agony, but until we clear this up, I do not think that we can make the progress that this issue deserves. Yes, we have to fund our hospice movement seriously. It is very worrying that we are going to fund the NHS to fund death, but that we are not adequately funding our hospice movement.
Before we take this momentous decision, we have to be realistic about it: if the Bill were to pass at 2.30 pm, that would be it. I do not believe that a private Member’s Bill, which has only five hours of debate and on which many Members of Parliament will not be given time to speak, is the right mechanism. In the last Parliament, we discussed a certain subject that we all know about—it was a very different issue. We had hundreds of hours of debate, questions and scores of civil servants crawling over the issue. Surely this issue is even more important. Surely we should have had more than just two or three weeks to consider this Bill. We should be looking at the detail, because the devil is in the detail in respect of possible coercion, the facilities available to the hospice movement and the issues I have talked about, including the lack of clarity in the law as to how we can or cannot relieve pain. Can we not pause a moment? Those are the practical points that I want to make.
This is so important: the futures of so many vulnerable people are at stake. I was struck by the comment made earlier by the hon. Member for Brent West (Barry Gardiner) that we cannot consider this issue just in terms of individual hard cases. We must consider it in terms of society as a whole. What sort of society are we? Are we a society that loves our NHS, that loves life, that loves caring and that loves the hospice movement? Or are we a society that believes that there is despair? I will vote for hope at 2.30 and I will vote against the Bill.
I have seen uncontrollable pain, choking and, I am sorry to say, the frightful sight of a man bleeding to death while conscious, as a cancer had eaten away at the carotid artery. It is called a carotid blowout. I know the terrifying loss of dignity and control in the last days of life. I am speaking here of people who are dying, not people living well who have chronic or terminal diseases. We are talking about people at the end of their lives wishing to choose the time and place to die. This is not some slippery slope. We are shortening death, not life, for our patients. This is not life or death; this is death or death.
Coercion and manipulation have been spoken about and are no doubt feared, but the danger of no change to the law is a greater fear for those who are dying and wish to have choice. The very real fear of loss of dignity and control are at the heart of it. Do not underestimate that. There are strict safeguards in this tightly written Bill, and I fervently hope there will be the opportunity to refine them as it progresses.
Colleagues know the gravity of the law that we are discussing and might feel that the moral weight of such a change is simply too great to bear; they may fear that our wisdom is insufficient. But I urge us to be brave today and allow the Bill to progress in this new Parliament.
Finally, a prison chaplain told me only this week of a gentle old man he met in prison, serving life for agreeing against every instinct in a last act of love to suffocate his wife, who was dying in uncontrollable agony. We are a compassionate people and we can do much better than that.
My opposition to the Bill is grounded in compassion. To legalise assisted dying would be to create the space for coercion that would undoubtedly see people die who would not otherwise have chosen to do so. There are no safeguards in the Bill that would prevent that.
To be fair, no safeguards would be possible, even if we were not going through this hasty process. First, there is the risk of self-coercion. Many of us will have heard older relatives utter words similar to, “I am a burden to you. You would be better off without me.” We all know reasonably instinctively that people will present it as making a sovereign choice, but it will be a choice born out of coercion. Unless there is a clause in the Bill that I have missed to employ mind readers, no amount of doctors, safeguards or bureaucratic mechanisms will prevent those who self-coerce from opting to die simply because they assume that no matter what their loved ones say, everyone would be better off if they were dead.
To add to the stats we just heard from the hon. Member for Cowdenbeath and Kirkcaldy (Melanie Ward), we know that in Canada more than one in three people opting for assisted dying gave as their reason for choosing to die that they felt they were a burden on others. Honestly, I do not see how we need any further discussion to push us into the No Lobby than that clear evidence from where it is legal.
Secondly, there is coercive control. In the last Parliament, we passed groundbreaking and long-overdue legislation on domestic violence. As society’s understanding of that often hidden evil has developed, our eyes have been opened to one horrific factor in particular: that of insidious, manipulative coercive control. Thousands of people have been—and are today—victims of those who seek to manipulate their will, take over their lives and coerce them into believing that their perpetrator’s will is actually their will. We all know through our constituency casework of people who have been victims. One common theme is that victims often did not realise that they were being controlled until long afterwards. It can take years for the penny to drop. I do not need to spell it out, then—do I?—that for those coerced into choosing assisted dying, that penny will never drop. They will no longer be with us.
Thirdly, people will choose assisted dying because of their pain when they would not do if that pain was properly managed. Here is where the evidence from other countries becomes truly disturbing—in fact, terrifying. In the last decade, the countries in Europe without assisted dying increased palliative care investment by over three times more than those that had legalised it. In the United States, those states without assisted dying saw an increase in the size of their palliative care teams that was also three times greater than that in states that had legalised it. That is clearly no accident and no coincidence. Indeed, the group that have contacted me who are most vociferously against the Bill are palliative care doctors.
“The only patients I care for, are those who are dying”.
We all know what is coming. Assisted dying means a shift in focus away from helping people to live in dignity and comfort, towards simply helping people to die. Then, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Let us not kid ourselves: palliative care is a postcode lottery in this country, especially for the poor and the old. If the motivation of those who choose assisted dying is to end their pain, we can be absolutely certain that those NHS trusts with the weakest palliative care offer will be those with the highest incidence of people choosing to die. In other words, it will not really be their choice at all.
An observation made to me by a senior oncologist just last week was that there are fewer more stressful situations in a person’s life than to be given a terminal diagnosis—I remember being with my mum as she was given hers—and to be told you are going to die. The oncologist then explained that among terminally ill people there is a vast amount of severe but undiagnosed depression and psychological illness. Similar but distinct from the danger of self-coercion, there is nothing in the Bill to safeguard against people who suffer like that from choosing to die before their time, yet in so many cases it will be people’s mental health that leads them to choose to die, not their physical condition. We simply cannot be all right with that.
Here we are, on the precipice of agreeing to sanction and support the deaths of people in despair. Our society has chosen a dystopian and contagious path if it chooses to facilitate the death of those who have a terminal illness rather than standing with them, weeping with them, valuing them and loving them against the desolation that any of us would feel if we were given a diagnosis of that sort. It is no wonder that the Government’s own suicide prevention adviser is strongly opposed to the Bill.
I totally respect that many of my colleagues in our corner of the House—my fellow liberals—will take a different view. I am opposed to the Bill because I am a liberal. Libertarians believe that personal liberty is so important that there can be no fetters on it. But I am liberal, not a libertarian. I believe that freedom is essential and that the rights of the individual underpin a decent society, but my rights must be held in check if they nullify your rights.
Since we know—we really do—that to legalise assisted dying is to permit people to die who will self-coerce, as a consequence of manipulative coercive control, outrageously not because of a real, sovereign choice but because of a heartbreaking Hobson’s choice due to inadequate palliative care, I have no right to impose that ultimate and most appalling constraint on the freedom of the most vulnerable in our society. I urge all of us to stand in defence of those most vulnerable people, to defiantly defend their liberty, to make a renewed commitment to world-class palliative care and to human dignity, and to reject the Bill.
Today, I find myself voting in a way that I thought I never would. I will vote in favour of moving the Bill to the next stage of the legislative process. That has been a difficult journey for me. I have arrived here by looking at the evidence, reflecting on my own lived experience and listening to the many, many constituents who have written to me in support of the Bill, sharing their compelling and tragic stories of death—death which did not come with dignity or respect.
In reflecting on my own life, one moment from my childhood stood out. When I was six years old, I had major surgery on my hips. I was in body plaster from my chest to my ankles, and in so much pain and requiring so much morphine that my skin began to itch. I remember vividly laying in a hospital bed in Sheffield Children’s hospital and saying to my parents, “I want to die. Please let me die.” I needed to escape from the body I was inhabiting. That moment has come back to me all these years later. That moment made it clear to me that if the Bill was about intolerable suffering, I would not vote for it.
I have subsequently had a good life, a fulfilling life, a life where I have worked towards ensuring disabled people are valued by our society. But that moment also gave me a glimpse of how I would want to live my death: just as I have lived my life, empowered by choices available to me; living that death with dignity and respect, and having the comfort of knowing that I might have control over that very difficult time. For so often, control is taken away from disabled people in all sorts of circumstances.
In order to ensure that there is compassionate choice at the end of life, it is right that the Bill is tightly drawn around the final stage of terminal illness for adults and includes the strongest safeguards. The choice of assisted dying as one option for adults when facing six months’ terminal illness must be set alongside the choice of receiving the best possible palliative and end of life care, or it is no choice at all.
Having analysed the Bill closely, therefore, there are changes I would want to see in Committee to strengthen those options and ensure the way that choice is presented by medical practitioners is always in the round. People deserve dignity in death, and for those who do not choose to end their lives in this way, they and their loved ones should feel reassured and safe in the knowledge they will receive the very best of care. I would also want to ensure that the final stages of the Bill properly define “dishonesty”, “coercion” and “pressure”. I think it is necessary to embed mandatory language in the Bill around the need for a code of practice on palliative care, as well as improving the regulations on training for medical practitioners. I trust my hon. Friend the Member for Spen Valley (Kim Leadbeater) to champion those amendments and to continue to diligently listen to Members, as she has throughout this process.
However people vote today in this House—a decision of conscience—it is incumbent on all of us to commit to improve palliative, end of life and adult social care. It must be the start of the work that we do in this place to ensure the very highest standards in these areas. That will be a very great legacy indeed: giving people the dignity they need in the moment of death. For many of us across the Chamber, considering these issues has been extremely hard and upsetting. We have had to go to the very depths of our selves to understand what choice we will make today. While we may enter different voting Lobbies, we leave this Chamber shoulder to shoulder. I know we will all work in our own ways to make systemic change to improve the lives of our constituents, and people up and down this country.
The decision we are taking today must be, for most Members, one of the most painful decisions. It certainly is for me. I am someone who has changed his position. I am a believer in the sanctity of life, but I am also an antagonist to torture and misery at the end of life. Accordingly, I intend to vote for the Bill on Second Reading. I say to those who have made procedural comments that Second Reading is a point of principle, not a point of conclusion. I have changed my position because since the scandal of Dr Shipman and the murders he carried out, the behaviour of the health service has changed. I have witnessed, with constituents in particular, any number of people who have died slowly and in agony beyond the reach of palliative care—the hon. Member for Bury St Edmunds and Stowmarket (Peter Prinsley) made the point brilliantly—so that no matter how well we do it, we cannot fix that problem.
Secondly, I am going to disagree with my right hon. Friend the Member for North West Hampshire (Kit Malthouse): it is not insulting to critique what others who have tried this have done. The countries that have tried this provide a wide range of examples and outcomes. If on Third Reading I think that the outcome we are heading towards is Belgium, I will vote against; and if the outcome is Canada, I will probably vote against. If it is Australia, I will vote in favour. That is what the next stage of this process is about.
I say to both the Bill’s sponsors that it has a number of areas that they know I think they have to put right—about a dozen, in truth.
I will pick one of those areas, as it is technical and awkward. Clause 4(2) appears to give doctors the right to initiate the process. But after the “Do not resuscitate” scandal during the covid crisis, I do not want that at any price—I do not want the state initiating this process. That is critical for me. I am really making the point that the decision on Second Reading is about principle, not outcome.
The hon. Member for Spen Valley (Kim Leadbeater) has said that she will work hard to make the Committee work. I am sure she will, and she may succeed. But I say this to the Government. I understand perfectly well that they are trying to maintain a route of strict neutrality, but there is a distinction between neutrality and responsibility. They need to focus on responsibility. This Bill is more important than most of the Bills in their manifesto; I am not trying to be rude. Is the hon. Member for Clacton (Nigel Farage) here? He got mobbed over breakfast by people talking about this. More people in the Dog and Duck care about this than they do about most other things that we are doing, so it deserves four days on Report in Government time over the course of several weeks.
We do not need a royal commission. The House can do this, but it needs to be given the option. I say to the Government that the path of responsibility is to give us the time to get this right. If we get it right, it will be one of the things that we can be proudest of in the coming years. I reiterate that I want the Bill to succeed. It is more important than most Bills that we handle. It cannot be dealt with in five hours here and a few hours in Committee. I will vote for it today, but I want the Government to help me be able to vote for a good Bill at the end.
“she was highly distressed, everyday she said she’d had enough and wanted to die—it was very undignified for her and it was heartbreaking to observe but be powerless to help.”
Each story we hear of loss and grief is unique. As legislators, we must consider everyone who will be affected, both directly and indirectly, by a change in the law. The public and the courts are rightly looking to Parliament to answer the question of whether the provision of assisted suicide should be a legal option. It is incumbent on us as parliamentarians to do the job properly.
Like many other Members, I have spent the past weeks listening to constituents and professionals in my Shipley constituency and experts in this place. I have read numerous reports and articles. As well as the moral and ethical dilemmas, there are many complex legal and practical considerations that need careful examination. I take a different view from the right hon. Member for Goole and Pocklington (David Davis), who has just spoken. I welcome the reassurances from my hon. Friend the Member for Spen Valley (Kim Leadbeater) and her commitment that the Bill Committee should take evidence, but I am not confident that a private Member’s Bill process will be able to adequately address the issues. That is why I have co-sponsored the cross-party amendment, tabled by my colleague the hon. Member for Runnymede and Weybridge (Dr Spencer), to call for an independent review and a systematic public consultation on these legal changes and for an independent assessment of the provision of palliative care.
With a background in health and social care, and specifically in ageing, I am particularly mindful of the context of the Bill and I wish to make three brief observations that concern me. First, we have heard many times about inequalities in access to palliative and end-of-life care. According to Hospice UK some 100,000 people die each year who could benefit from end-of-life care but do not receive it. Those who are non-white and from lower socioeconomic backgrounds are less likely to get care. Unless terminally ill people are confident of access to high quality end-of-life care, how can they make an informed choice about assisted dying? I believe that investment in palliative care must come before a change in the law is implemented.
My second point is about the failure to reform social care. Some people have to spend their life savings, including the value of their home, on care. Much of the responsibility for providing care falls to family members who fill the gap. Older and disabled people with a terminal illness may feel an unspoken pressure to go down the route of assisted dying to protect their inheritance, or because they do not want to be a burden. There is a real, direct risk of coercion. Annually there are 400,000 cases of domestic abuse against older people in England and Wales.
My third concern is that the NHS is on its knees, as outlined in the Darzi report, and an impact assessment is needed to understand fully the cost of implementation to the NHS. Do we have the doctors? What additional training is required? What is the opportunity cost of the necessary but lengthy process of establishing consent, capacity, and absence of coercion? Without that we risk making dying legal, but finding that it is available only to those who can pay.
I will conclude my remarks, respectful of the fact that many colleagues want to speak. I recognise that people can benefit from a potential change in the law—people such as my friend Sharon, for whom palliative care was unable to relieve her suffering. However, there are also many who could be put at risk by a change in the law, and other direct and indirect costs and consequences that need to be weighed up. I believe we should adopt the precautionary principle in this case, and without a proper public consultation and a detailed examination, I will be unable to support the Bill today.
The root of my conviction is this: life in all its forms is of inherent worth and value. While I have come to that conclusion partly because of my faith, like all Members across the House I have listened carefully to the evidence in coming to my conclusion on the danger that this Bill represents. Each individual person is of extraordinary value, not because of their capacity, intelligence or appearance, or for any reason other than that they are human.
It is right that we should rage against death, with its suffering and pain, as it is not natural, but the Bill takes that rational fear to an irrational and dangerous conclusion. The answer to a fear of death or of dying badly, or even a desire for a good death, is not logically to legalise a means of bringing about death in a more efficient or sanitised state-sponsored fashion. We are having the wrong debate today. We should be debating how as a society we can improve an individual’s end-of-life experience through improved investment in end-of-life and palliative care, and the very best medical or hospice facilities. I strongly support efforts to that end, to improve how we provide for those who are suffering in their final months of life rather than seeking to end their life more quickly than is necessary, as this Bill does.
Tragically, at the moment one in four people do not have access to the care they need at the end of life. Many are unable to see their GP and get the pain medication they need as they face their last few months. It is a broken system, and one that the Government have pledged to fix. Surely that should be the priority, rather than introducing a state service that ends life. We need to debate how to properly fund the healthcare system we have, but the Bill would halt that debate and divert much-needed funding for better palliative care into ending life, not preserving it.
The Bill undermines the foundation on which our NHS is built—to preserve and protect life. It is not about individual pain; it is about a societal change that would end and devalue lives. It puts at risk the lives of vulnerable and marginalised people across our communities, with wholly inadequate safeguards against coercion. As has been the case in every country where such legislation has been introduced, it would see the rapid expansion of eligibility criteria, and it cannot protect against the unreliability of a terminal diagnosis. When we look at the complications of the drugs used in places such as Oregon, we see that it would not guarantee a good death.
Death is final. Today I have stood up for what is right, told the truth and warned of the dangers of this rushed and ill thought out Bill. I urge the same honesty from those who support it. This Bill is not the answer to end-of-life care, and that is why I and my Democratic Unionist party colleagues will vote against it.
We hold a responsibility in this place to legislate for all people across the United Kingdom—for society. The overwhelming opinion of the public is clear. A poll conducted earlier this year found that 75% of people would support a change in the law to make it legal for terminally ill adults to access assisted dying in the UK.
The current blanket ban on assisted dying forces terminally ill people to suffer against their will as they near the end of their life, while loved ones watch on helplessly. Some choose to avoid that fate and seek assisted death abroad, but that comes at a substantial cost of around £15,000 to travel to Switzerland for that purpose. That highlights systemic inequality, whereby only those with the necessary financial means have access to a choice over the timing and manner of their death.
As a humanist, I believe we have but one life and that we should live it well and make it meaningful. I believe that individuals should have autonomy in life. Similarly, I believe that at the end of life every person should have agency and the right to die with dignity and to a safe and painless death, on their own terms, subject of course to strong safeguards. I believe that the Bill contains stringent safeguards.
Although my humanist beliefs have contributed to my view, personal experience when young sparked my initial questions about the manner in which our lives end. My grandfather, Harold Hopkins, was an optical physicist and is remembered as one of the most innovative scientists of modern times. Many of his inventions are in daily use throughout the world, including zoom lenses, coherent fibre-optics and rod-lens endoscopes, which revolutionised modern keyhole surgery.
Unfortunately, my grandfather was not immune to the grip of a cruel terminal illness, and he sadly suffered greatly in the final weeks of his life, while battling prostate and secondary cancers, rendered blind during his final days, which was a cruel irony for a man who did so much to advance optics. But it was the haunted look on my father’s face when he arrived home having spent the final few days with Harold, who was in terrible pain and suffering before he finally died, that had a lasting impression on me. Surely, in a modern society, if we are able to live a good life, we must be able to have a good death.
My grandfather was just one of many who have faced such a fate. I have heard from many constituents and from other families—many who are here today—who have shared their own stories of watching their loved ones die in unnecessary pain and indignity. While many have raised concerns around the need for better funded and supported palliative care services in our country, I reiterate the point that the Bill does not represent an either/or proposal.
As my hon. Friend the Member for Spen Valley has said over the past few weeks, at its core this legislation is about not ending life, but shortening death. This is fundamentally an issue of dignity, compassion and humanity, and I encourage all Members across the House to use their power as elected representatives to alleviate the needless pain of thousands of individuals and their families by taking the first step towards providing choice at the end of life by legalising assisted dying.
Arguments that we must wait for palliative care to improve in our country are a logical fallacy. The Bill does not prevent us from improving our palliative care system, contrary to what has been said today in the Chamber. In evidence to the Health and Social Care Committee, Hospice UK said that:
“it would be totally inappropriate for us to suggest or even imply that hospice and palliative care services can somehow address…pain in all circumstances.”
Imagine you have cancer that day by day is breaking every individual vertebra in your body, one by one, and there is nothing that can take away the pain—that is how my mother lost her life. Her last words were, “I cannot go on like this,” and, thankfully for her, there were only a few more days of pain; however, for others, there will be months more. Before they get to that six-month period, people will have suffered years of excruciating agony that palliative care cannot resolve. Yes, we must improve palliative care, and I will fight for that.
Arguments that this legislation would be the beginning of a slippery slope are not reflected by the majority of legislators, such as Australia and across multiple states in the USA, where such policies have not been expanded. Again, the Health and Social Care Committee has told us that where terminal illness was the basis—not suffering—as for this Bill, the law has not changed.
As a Conservative, freedom, choice and personal responsibility shape my decision making—until those freedoms cause harm to others. I do not see the role of legislation as imposing moral convictions. It is our job to protect choice. I say to those whose religious beliefs drive their arguments today that I will always defend their right to practise their faith and protect their own life choices. However, supporting the choice of others does not diminish the principle of compassion; it recognises respect for individual autonomy. To deny choice to others—especially those with only six months to live, where their personal choice does others no harm—is wrong.
To those concerned about the state mandating powers to decide who can and cannot live, I say that judges already exercise this power. They end lives in far more complicated cases, such as those of children on life support.
On arguments around procedure, we all have to be honest with ourselves: this Bill has been read far more vociferously than most Bills that go through this House. Most Bills over the past 20 years have come to Parliament with far fewer than 14 days to consider them: for the Police, Crime, Sentencing and Courts Bill, we had six days to consider 59 pages; for the Illegal Migration Bill, we had six days to consider far more. We have had sight of this Bill for longer than many others. The idea that a private Member’s Bill is not appropriate is also wrong. Social reform comes through private Members’ Bills: the abolition of the death penalty, the legalisation of abortion and the decriminalisation of homosexuality—all things I hope this House would unite on.
This is the start of the process of debate, and it would be a tragedy if the Bill were defeated today. Members should trust me when I say that I learned early in my career that when we hear promises that things will come later, that is a promise that no action will come at all. The High Court made it clear to my constituent Phil Newby, who has motor neurone disease, that we must make this decision. To those considering abstaining because this is so difficult—and I recognise that it is difficult—I say that we must not shy away from it. I ask colleagues to vote for the Bill in order to allow a long legislative process to proceed and, together, to commit to shortening the suffering of those who are terminally ill in our society, because they deserve that choice.
It is completely understandable that some would want to feel that they are regaining some control over their circumstances by pursuing an assisted death, but this Bill is not the answer. I simply do not trust that it can be implemented ethically or safely. There are too many blind spots, and it is being rushed through too quickly and with too little scrutiny. It would place enormous pressure on disabled, elderly and poor people to opt to end their lives so as not to be a burden on their loved ones.
The Bill would also do nothing concrete to uplift the hospice and palliative care sectors. All that we have had are promises. According to the Bill, the Secretary of State must ensure that assisted suicide is available. There is no accompanying duty to provide palliative or hospice care to everyone who needs it, leaving those essential services heavily dependent on donations and charity. That is simply unacceptable.
The exercise of coercion or pressure, which are prohibited by the Bill, is difficult—perhaps even impossible—to detect. Families and personal circumstances are complicated. It would take an enormous amount of resources to make this system robust enough to entrust the lives of our loved ones to it. The Bill allows doctors to propose assisted dying to patients. Some of the worst Canadian abuses originated that way. For example, a 51-year-old Canadian cancer patient was notoriously offered death instead of surgery. Even though our proposed system has its differences, this is still a risk that I am not willing to take.
The current law presents us with a clear boundary that can never be crossed. It avoids all slippery slopes, with no room for error. Assisted suicide legislation would replace that with an arbitrary boundary that is rife for misunderstanding, error and, at worse, abuse. Remember: this is all happening in the context of an NHS run into the ground by 14 years of Tory austerity, and the Government have simply not had the time to rectify it. It is not a fair choice as a result.
I will therefore be voting against the Bill and will continue to push for improvements in palliative and hospice care. That is the only way to ensure that no one from any community is left behind.
I will not amplify the arguments about process, although I think it is immensely naive to assume that this Bill could be changed substantially in Committee. As a shadow Minister and a Minister for 19 years, I oversaw many Bills in Committee, and I know what Committees do. They calibrate, refine and improve legislation; they do not fundamentally alter the intent voted for on Second Reading.
Neither shall I talk too much about what happens in other jurisdictions, except to say that it is certainly true that everywhere it has been introduced, assisted dying has expanded—not always by subsequent legislation, but often through judicial interpretation. The idea that we should put this charming but rather naive faith in the judiciary to make these decisions subsequent to the House passing the Bill is just that: innocent—that is the most generous way I can describe it.
What I will talk about is simply this: the Bill would change the relationship between clinicians and patients forever. It would say to the NHS, “Your job is not only to protect and preserve life; it is sometimes to take life.” I am not prepared for our NHS to be changed in that way. Beyond that, the Bill would change society’s view of what life and death are all about. This is not just about individual choices, as hon. Members have said in their interventions and speeches; it is about a collective, communal view on how we see the essence of life and death.
Finally, we have had a civilised debate in this place, but it is very different out there on the mean streets, as each and every one of us knows. There are many cruel, spiteful, ruthless and unkind people in the world, and there are also many vulnerable and frail people. When those two groups collide, the outcome is not good for the second.
I fear this Bill. I will vote against it. I will vote for what a politician in another place once called “the audacity of hope”—hope that we can improve palliative care; hope that we can do better. I fear for the disabled and vulnerable people who would be affected by the provisions of this Bill, which—regardless of the good intentions of its advocates—I believe will fan the flames of fear.
Fundamentally, I believe that if we are able to safely offer peace and empowerment to those at the end of their life, then we have a moral imperative to do so. We are lawmakers, and I also fundamentally support this change because our current legal framework is simply not fit for purpose. Our criminal law is a mess. Four former Directors of Public Prosecutions have told us that change is needed. It is pretty unprecedented for four former Directors of Public Prosecutions, the sole people who make decisions about prosecutions in such cases, to urge Parliament to take action.
In the 2014 Nicklinson judgment, the Supreme Court urged Parliament to take action because the law was not working in this area. The law is chaotic, particularly in how it relates to the argument around coercion. If we vote against this legislation today and it falls, do not think that vulnerable people at the end of their lives will not be subject to coercion this weekend and over the coming weeks. The police will investigate, a coroner will undertake an inquest into the circumstances of any suicide and a prosecution may begin, but all these processes will occur after the individual has died. This Bill would shift the emphasis of such inquiries to before the event, which is more logical, more rational and more humane.
Let me quickly deal with the procedural argument. As the hon. Member for Rutland and Stamford (Alicia Kearns) mentioned, private Members’ Bills were sufficient to reform our abortion laws, abolish the death penalty and change our divorce regime, and a private Member’s Bill was good enough when the issue was last before the House in 2015. I have read every single word of that debate, and there was not a single word of opposition to a private Member’s Bill being the mechanism for such change. Since 2015, there have been Select Committee reports and more evidence from around the world, as other jurisdictions move in the direction of assisted dying. One begins to wonder whether opponents to change are grasping at procedural straws, rather than taking on the principle, as we should at Second Reading.
I appreciate that the decision is difficult for colleagues and I respect views on all sides of the debate, but these moments do not come around often. I urge colleagues to seize the moment, shape the world around us and provide for compassion.
For example, as we have heard, an elderly person in a care home, knowing that the legacy they could bequeath to their children was being reduced by tens of thousands of pounds every few weeks, would be highly likely to feel obliged to ask to die. I cannot conceive of any safeguard against self-sacrifice of that sort, whether for financial reasons or in order no longer to be a burden on one’s nearest and dearest relatives and friends.
However, there is an additional point that I wish to inject into the debate. In my opinion, the key to this dreadfully difficult conundrum—about end of life care, pain and the possibility of assisted dying—lies, or should lie, in the ability of medical personnel to administer effective pain relief even if it shortens the patient’s remaining time. In my view, there should be no bar on the use of painkilling medication, if that is the only way to ease human suffering, even if it leads to a speedier death—hence the frequent references to putting dying people “on an appropriate pathway.”
It was therefore most alarming to me to read a very important paragraph in a letter sent to me in favour of changing the law and voting for the Bill by my constituent, the distinguished broadcaster Dame Esther Rantzen, in which she explains that doctors no longer feel able to follow this humane course of action since the atrocious Harold Shipman case, which was briefly alluded to by my right hon. Friend the Member for Goole and Pocklington (David Davis). If there has been such a change in regulations, as Dame Esther believes, it is imperative that that should be reversed. That is something positive that could come out of the imminent debate.
Another issue that has been touched on more than once is the uncertainty and the postcode lottery surrounding effective palliative care. Dame Esther’s view is that there are some people, who have some conditions, for whom palliative care never can be effective. Other people expressed the view that there is always a way in which painkilling medication can be used in order to prevent suffering. I suspect the answer to that riddle lies in the fact that that painkilling care, in some cases, might lead to a shortening of life.
Therefore, I conclude that there are three issues that should be in our minds. Can safeguards be effective? My answer to that, I am sorry to say, is still no. Can pain be alleviated sufficiently by palliative care? The balance of the argument is in favour of saying “probably yes”, but it is too uneven across the country and would certainly need the sort of investment that would be necessary to set up system that would work for assisted dying. Above all, have doctors the freedom to administer pain relief that may shorten life? We need to know the answer to that question, because if, since Shipman, they have been prevented from taking such merciful measures, that is a classic example of hard cases making bad law. Doctors need to be able to humanely ease people on their last journey, and the country needs to know where the medical profession stands on that central matter to this debate.
We do not want to think about it, but abuse surrounds us—2.3 million victims of domestic abuse in the last year. One in six older people experience abuse. The definition of coercive and controlling behaviour includes behaviour that repeatedly puts someone down, telling them they are worthless. Victims describe this as a “drip, drip” effect, and it goes unnoticed. Not just because we do not want to think about it, but because it is hard for professionals to identify it without proper training and with the lack of specialist support. There is no mandatory training for judges on coercive and controlling behaviour, nor is there effective training for medical professionals. In a 2019 survey, 50% of healthcare professionals said that they did not feel they had received adequate training to identify a victim of domestic abuse.
It is also hard for victims themselves to realise they are being coerced until they have got free. We know that older people, especially those who are disabled, are particularly susceptible to abuse by a family member and less likely to be able to escape their abusers. Those who are coerced are often isolated from friends and family. If people are not required to tell friends and family they are opting for assisted dying, who will raise the alarm? How would any concerns be reported? Will judges be able to investigate the police records of those around a person who has requested assisted dying—family or carers?
I will always remember a conversation I had with a hospital-based independent domestic violence adviser, who was called to the bed of a lady in her 80s in her last days living with cancer. The lady disclosed to the IDVA that she had been abused by her partner of 50 years, and said “Thank you. I have never told anyone before, but now I am finally free to die, and I am grateful for the release.”
We know from the Monckton-Smith report that a third of female suicides could be linked to domestic abuse, and from the Killed Women campaign that as many as 130 women each year could be murdered by a partner or relative but have their deaths are recorded as suicide or accident. Every week, we hear of family court judges failing to spot coercive and controlling behaviour. In one case, a judge found that a man repeatedly calling his partner worthless and telling her to die was not controlling conduct.
Where is the discretion of gender in the Bill? Out of 60 documented cases around the world of euthanasia and assisted dying for people with anorexia, 100% were women. I have come to the view that no Bill, however drafted, could adequately sift those with a genuine desire to end their own lives from those doing it for all the wrong reasons. For that reason, I will vote against.
Well-informed public opinion shows that a very large majority of people want the option to choose assisted dying in the circumstances envisaged by the Bill, and this level of public support reflects the fact that the law, as it stands, too often forces people to endure horrific deaths. I have heard so many stories from constituents of the trauma and pain that they have witnessed in loved ones. Too many people are affected by the current law in truly painful ways, and too many of those who are able to do so now seek unregulated, distressing and unsafe alternatives, because there are no legal options. Those who wish to end their lives at the point when their suffering from a terminal illness becomes unbearable may act too soon. They may take their own lives, and do so before they reach a point at which they require assistance—in secret, leaving a legacy of shock and confusion, instead of peacefully planning an ending to their final few months. Some of the testimony that I have seen from family members and partners who face the consequences of these secret decisions are truly heartbreaking, because the current law also makes it a prosecutable offence for anyone to advise or assist someone in this horrible situation in any way, thus putting at risk anyone who even knows.
Several people have also raised concerns about coercion with me, and I have listened very hard. I aim to cast a vote today that will protect people better. The hon. Member for Rother Valley (Jake Richards) made, very well, the point that the Bill will be a clear improvement on the current law in respect of safeguards against potential coercion for terminally ill people, and we should all listen to that argument.
Like the hon. Member for Gower (Tonia Antoniazzi), I do have one constructive point to make. I think we should be discussing it during the Bill’s ensuing stages, which I hope we will vote for. It concerns the time limit. Other jurisdictions already allow for different time limits, or no time limits for terminally ill people, or a separate time limit for a number of well-known, specific neurological diseases, in which the period of terrible suffering can be much longer than six months.
Like many other Members, my colleagues and I have heard many concerns expressed about the availability of palliative care. I hope that we are seeing the start of a much more open conversation about the practical problems that people face at the end of their lives—something we are generally not comfortable with talking about in this country—and about the provision that we do not currently make for people in anything like an adequate way. We must do better and, like other countries, make sure that we see improvements in palliative care at the same time as making this change. While we do not have to choose between the Bill and better palliative care, we do have to give dying people the right to choose which ending is right for them, so please, please, vote for the Bill today.
Let us take the example of withdrawal of treatment. One of my close family members who would not be covered by the Bill’s eligibility criteria starved herself to death through withdrawal of treatment. She had been unwell for many decades with a condition that would have eventually killed her. At one point she became unable to swallow. For many years she had relied on artificial nutrition, and when the type of artificial nutrition she needed changed to a more invasive process, she said, “Enough’s enough.” As a mentally competent adult under the current law, she was able to take that decision. People are already legally able to die early through withdrawal of treatment. I emphasise that she would not have been eligible under the criteria of the Bill, and I have no idea what she would have chosen if she had had a choice, but the fact remains that her capacity was assessed by a doctor and she was allowed under the current law to die early.
The BMA has told us that it regularly assesses for capacity, coercion and consent in, for example, abortion care and—as in the example of my relative—dying through withdrawal of treatment. The Bill and the safeguards it would put in place would give a stronger framework of protection than the existing law.
Under the Bill, two doctors would have to test for capacity, coercion and consent. That would have to be reviewed by a High Court judge and pauses for reflection are built into the process. If it does get to the point of an assisted death, the patient themselves must administer the approved substance.
Let us be clear about who the Bill is for. The eligibility criteria are extremely narrow—some have argued that they are too narrow. The Bill is for mentally competent adults who are nearing the end of their lives. They are dying, and they are dying soon.
Many people with a terminal illness will have a perfectly ordinary death managed perfectly well by palliative care. But we have heard in recent weeks—over many years, in fact—about the people who do need the Bill: the people for whom even the best palliative care simply does not work; those for whom merely the option of an assisted death gives them peace and comfort and a chance to enjoy the rest of their lives without fearing the manner of their death. With the safeguards contained in the Bill, who are we to deny them that peace? Who are we to decide what they must bear as they die?
We have the power through a robust legislative process to prevent human suffering. Good palliative care and assisted dying are not at odds. They are not in conflict. They both aim for the same thing: a good death, surrounded by people you love, with minimal pain and without fear. Today, we can vote for that in the sure knowledge that if the Bill passes its Second Reading, it will undergo further intense scrutiny to ensure that it is a good law that works as it is intended to do. This is the start of a legislative process, not the end. I urge colleagues across the House to vote yes.
We have spoken about the role of doctors; let us think about the role of judges. The test to be applied is a low one: the civil law threshold, which is a balance of probabilities. This means that a judge could see real risk of coercion and still sign off an individual for assisted death. If the threshold of 50% or more was not reached, the judge would sign off the individual. The next of kin is not informed. There is no right of appeal, which is extremely unusual in English law, and the process is conducted in secrecy. It could be done on papers alone. Transparency is critical to the law. It is one of the oldest principles in our English legal system. As Jeremy Bentham said more than a hundred years ago, evil can arise in secrecy, and publicity is at the heart of justice. This is not a transparent process and that leaves it woefully open to abuse.
Secondly, all of us in this House want to believe that the laws that we pass are final, full stop, the end. That is not the case. I worry—in fact, I am certain—that as night follows day this law, if passed, will change; not as a result of the individuals in this Chamber or the other place, but as a result of judges in other places. We have seen that time and again. It may be on either side of the debate, but it will happen. If passed, the Act will be subject to activist judges in Strasbourg. They will change it fundamentally and we have to be prepared for that. I do not want to see that happen.
My last point is not about how we can improve the Bill; it is about something that we can never resolve as a House. The Bill is not so much a slippery slope as a cliff edge. When we walk out of this Chamber, or out of the gates of this building tonight, we will, in a way, walk into a different country if the Bill passes. There will be different conversations around kitchen tables. There will be different conversations had by couples lying in bed at night, or on quiet country walks where people talk about difficult things. They will not be conversations that make our country a better place.
More important, there will be people who do not speak about these things at all. There will be imperceptible changes in behaviours. There will be the grandmother who worries about her grandchildren’s inheritance if she does not end her life. There will be the widow who relies on the kindness of strangers who worries—it preys on her conscience. There will be people—we all know them in our lives—who are shy, who have low self-esteem, who have demons within them. I know those people. I can see them in my mind’s eye. They are often poor. They are vulnerable. They are the weakest in our society. And they look to us, to Parliament, to represent them, to support them, to protect them. In their interests, I am going to vote against the Bill today. Sometimes we must fetter our freedoms. We the competent, the capable, the informed sometimes must put the most vulnerable in society first.
The Bill could be the most consequential piece of legislation that has been considered during my time in this House, and is at the heart of the matter of why I came into politics. Many Members have spoken about coercion and about providing a voice for people who often do not have one. It is that principle which has guided my decision to oppose the Bill. I know there are sincerely held beliefs on both sides of the debate. They can seem completely at odds with each other, but it is my firm view that everyone speaking today shares the same goal: a more compassionate society in which everyone can live and die with dignity. But true compassion should have equality at its heart. It is for this reason that I cannot support the proposals as they stand.
We must recognise the hard truth that health inequalities are wide and persistent. We know that black and minority ethnic disabled people have far worse health outcomes than the national average. I saw that at first hand when caring for my mother, who suffered with sickle cell anaemia. As a teenager, I would be by her side when she was in excruciating pain, explaining to a doctor who would not believe her when she told him that she needed life-saving medication. Sadly, that is still the reality today. I am reminded of the death of Evan Smith on 25 April at North Middlesex university hospital. Evan suffered from sickle cell too. He was in so much pain that he had to ring 999 from his hospital bed, because he was denied oxygen and basic care by the doctors. Put simply, we should be helping people to live comfortable, pain-free lives on their own terms before we think about making it easier for them to die.
Colleagues will be aware of clause 15 of the Bill, which outlines the provision for signing by proxy. I am worried that this could create issues for vulnerable groups who are more prone to coercion by family members. As many Members have said, assessing beyond doubt whether someone has been put under pressure or coerced would be difficult. If this legislation is passed, even the legal experts seem to be in disagreement on this, so I do not believe that there has been enough scrutiny. The risk of coercion will be highest for some of the most disadvantaged people in our communities. As a society, we risk pushing people to seek an early death. I cannot, in good conscience, support this.
My late mother lived with chronic illness all her life, and I knew that one day her pain would be too unbearable for her, but she did not let that limit her. She wanted to live. I do not believe that the Bill would protect the wishes of people in her situation, because freedom in death is possible only if we have had freedom in life. How can we possibly be satisfied that this Bill will deliver equality and freedom in death when we do not yet have it in life?
I think the starting point for many of us today is how to resolve the dilemma of what we want for ourselves against the fear of enabling potentially terrible consequences for others. There is a rational fear of the reality of coercion, what drives decisions within families and what individuals feel is best for their family. There is a rational fear of how institutional pressures, lack of resources and, appallingly, the culture in the NHS might ramp up the convenience of death as an affordable option. This is not a new fear. The hon. Member for York Central (Rachael Maskell) mentioned Baroness Neuberger’s review of the Liverpool care pathway, which said:
“In order that everyone dying in the acute sector can do so with dignity, the present situation has to change.”
That was in 2013. We know, in the aftermath of covid, how little has changed.
Death as an institutional convenience has never been, and never will be, right. It is our duty to demand good palliative care and address the institutional and resource barriers to it, but that is not a licence to sidestep today’s moral question. The people of England and Wales now expect us as legislators to provide an answer in principle. It is our duty to provide that answer not only in principle, but in process. With that in mind, I will support the Bill on Second Reading if there is a guarantee of sufficient scrutiny to stitch together a complete garment out of what is presently threads and patches that could, as we have heard, be rent asunder in court. If Committee scrutiny cannot make the Bill robust, I will reconsider my support in future votes. Surely this House can ensure that there is both cross-party and small-party representation on the Committee, rather than conventional party proportionality—of course, today we have a free vote.
The implications for Wales, where health is devolved, cry out for proper consideration. I support the hon. Member for Gower (Tonia Antoniazzi) in her concerns about the Sewel convention and the need for a legislative consent motion in the Senedd. These concerns are equally true not just for Wales but for remote and deprived communities where ill and dying people already suffer disproportionately inadequate health services.
To close, I credit Iola Dorkins of Morfa Nefyn whom I have known for over 30 years and who is presently dying of motor neurone disease. She wears a brace that her husband has adapted to make more comfortable. Today, she is on respite in a hospice in Holyhead, which is 50 miles away from her home. That is the reality of people’s lives as things stand. We need a change in the law.
I would like to make some quick observations. First, a lot of patients who are dying of cancer ask whether we can curtail their life and finish it a bit early. That is a very common thing that they ask. I have had two patients go to Dignitas on their own, without family members, because the family members were fearful that they would be arrested on their return. We have been discussing giving a double dose of morphine. I think that almost all doctors in terminal care have probably done this—doubled the dose of morphine knowing that it might curtail the patient’s life. That is a big fudge. It puts me in a very vulnerable position. We need to resolve that.
I think we are getting a bit confused between palliative care and assisted dying. A lot of people who receive excellent palliative care still request assisted dying. They are not mutually exclusive. I totally support what everyone is saying about developing palliative care, because that is really important, but that should not go instead of assisted dying. The things go together. Assisted dying is one of our tools in palliative care, as I see it going into the future.
I have a couple of points about coercion, which people like me need to assess. If someone says that they feel like a burden, that is immediately not a good reason to approve assisted dying. Doctors are trained in assessing capacity, as has been said, but we are also trained in trying to find out the reasons someone wants to end their life. I think it is judging doctors harshly to say that they will not spot coercion. Interestingly, the only change in Australia was that they found that the judiciary review did not add much to the process. Otherwise, there does not seem to be a slippery slope, as long as the legislation is carefully done.
I will finish simply by saying that having been a doctor all my life, I have tried to empower patients to make their own decisions over their healthcare, and this is a great opportunity to do that. I had one patient who had a terminal diagnosis and hanged himself. The family were devastated. It was a horrible way to die. I felt that we had failed as a medical profession. Let us not fail as a Government, a judiciary and the Houses of Parliament. Please support the Bill.
Let me state unequivocally: we need to support palliative care. However, today’s debate is not about whether we support palliative care, but about what happens when we cannot provide a solution. What happens when palliative care does not or cannot work? The truth is that palliative care has limits. Let us consider the cases that keep doctors and surgeons awake up at night—the likes of the inoperable neck cancer, eroding away into the carotid artery. It is a literal bloody time bomb, and no one knows when it will go off. What is modern medicine’s answer to that? Keep dark towels nearby for the blood, and counsel a partner or family member on what it is like to find someone bleeding out. There is no cure, and no respite. What would you do?
Currently, for such patients we can offer no agency over their end; no alternative to that terrifying death. Can we truly say that that is compassionate? Should we not even offer those facing such suffering at least the chance of dignity in their death? That is what the Bill stands for. To reject it on Second Reading is not just to vote against assisted dying but to silence the debate for another decade and to say that the status quo is acceptable, and it is fine for those who can afford it to fly to another country to end their suffering while others are left here without recourse. I cannot accept that. What is this House for if not to empower people, and to give them the tools to shape their lives and, yes, their deaths? Today, we have the chance to put compassion into action—to offer choice to those who are facing the ultimate suffering.
I hugely respect Members who take a different view. I simply and gently say to them that there are consequences, too. Those intractable cases will still be there with no solution, no choice in this country and no resolution to their suffering. To those who understandably are a little unsure, I say that if they have doubts about safeguards or the implementation—I agree that some are valid—they should let the debate continue. For some Members it will a bridge too far; if necessary they should reject the Bill on Third Reading, but to stop it now is to stop the conversation entirely, take the choice off the table and remove a dying person’s agency. When all is considered, I ask again: how do you want to die?
The safeguards may sound rigorous on paper, but the strained state of our NHS means that many patients do not have a consistent relationship with a named doctor. We are attributed to health centres nowadays, not named doctors. Someone’s consideration of this decision could depend on which doctor they see—one who raises assisted dying as an option, versus one who refuses. That is a deeply troubling prospect. The ideation of assisted dying will become a ballot. We know our GPs have a range of views on assisted dying, so we cannot deny that who someone ends up seeing with their terminal illness might be how they end up. That could be at the doctor’s, possibly in the presence of a loved one who is under strain and in need of respite themselves, and the first suggestion is the beginning of a journey towards, yes, assisted dying. That is before we consider the forces of marketing and commercialisation, and the industry that will spring up if the Bill proceeds and is sewn into our NHS.
It is possible that we cannot imagine being the victim of coercion, or that as MPs our agency is so baked in to our experiences of living, that we cannot envisage a scenario where those who already claim to feel unseen are directed towards meeting their end sooner than it otherwise might have been. Our casework from constituents is already full of people struggling to access the rights that we have enshrined in law—access to justice, health, education support, the disaster in our special educational needs system—and of victims often of state neglect or state coercion, and the failure of safeguards that were once supported on paper and passed into law.
Disability rights groups and advocates have raised their voices, wanting us to talk about the dangers of normalising assisted dying. For many the Bill represents not a choice but a principle shift that undermines the value we place on protecting the vulnerable. It falls to us as the strongest to stand up and vote against the Bill. Passing the Bill today will not improve palliative and hospice care. My belief is that it will forfeit it. The end of life is complicated; end of life care often is not complicated enough. On reflection, my mother-in-law deserved a frank, trusted conversation about the risk of secondary illnesses and amputation that would follow with the automatic cancer treatment that she was given in her final months of life. We should expect more agility from our NHS, and while dying is the ultimate binary experience, end of life care should be more sophisticated and more personalised. Shortening those expectations with a system that endorses assisted dying would forfeit that too.
Finally, as legislators our responsibility is to protect the most vulnerable and consider all eventualities. We disagree on slippery slope arguments, but if the Bill proceeds it will be a moment of no return, and that is why I am not prepared to support it.
I stand here not only as a medical practitioner who worked as a surgeon for about a decade, but also as a healthcare barrister, so I have looked at the debate from both sides of the argument. I have been deeply moved by some of the stories I have heard about patients who are facing a terminal illness. I am also instructed by my own experiences—my personal experiences of my relatives, and of those patients whom I failed. I failed because I did not give them the good death that they deserved, despite the very best efforts of palliative care.
It is true that we can improve the palliative care offering in this country, but it is not a binary choice. It is not a choice of palliative care or assisted dying; it is a choice about someone having an option over how they want autonomy over their body at the end of their life. I understand the concerns raised in this House—I genuinely do—but this is not the point to cancel the debate. This is the point to engage in the debate. This is the point at which we move it forward, so that people can contribute to it in Committee and say how things can be improved, and so that we can work together to make a societal change, improve our society and support those who want that ultimate choice in those last days.
Data shows that in my city of Liverpool 74% of people are in favour of assisted dying. I have been privileged to correspond with and meet so many of my constituents who have shared with me their views and personal stories, spanning both sides of this important debate, and I thank them all. As we have heard today, there are strongly held beliefs on both sides of the House. I absolutely respect those with views that differ from my own, and hope that they respect my views, even if we disagree.
Since long before I entered this place, I have been an advocate of assisted dying, with the appropriate safeguards, to alleviate unnecessary suffering. My own mum cared for my dad during his cruel battle with cancer. Sadly, not even the best palliative care could provide him with a good death—and I do believe that there is such a thing as a good death. At its core, the Bill is sensible, safe and compassionate. But above all else it places human dignity at its heart.
In respect of palliative care, the Bill is not an either/or. Along with many other campaigners for assisted dying, I fully support improving palliative care. It has been proven that end of life care has improved in several countries because of assisted dying reform. I hope that, if the Bill passes, the UK will also belong on that list. Palliative experts, including those opposed to law change, admit that some people’s suffering is beyond the reach of even the best palliative care.
I do not believe that if the Bill finally becomes law, it will create a slippery slope. As the right hon. Member for Sutton Coldfield (Mr Mitchell) eloquently said, terminally ill adults in Oregon have had a legal option for assisted dying for more than 25 years, and not once has it been expanded to include other groups.
Every year, around 650 terminally ill people take their own lives, and countless others who are more affluent make the choice of the long, arduous journey to Switzerland, all without any protections in place. I do not want choice to be available only to those who can afford to pay. That is not just or equitable.
Finally, just like with many other private Members’ Bills that have gone before and looked to bring about social reform—such as those on abortion, divorce and the decriminalisation of homosexuality—this is an historic moment and an opportunity, if taken, to give real dignity to those who have reached the end of life and want a choice, while also respecting the views of those who do not want to take that choice.
I have witnessed at first hand the cruelty that a terminal diagnosis brings. As the son of a single mother, my grandparents were like second parents to me. Each struggled with their own incurable cancer diagnosis. At Christmas dinner in 2019, my nan, who could no longer eat and was clearly in a great deal of pain, turned to me and said she was “ready to go”. “It’s time now,” she added. That night, I reflected on how, as a society, we shy away from discussing death. We park it away and prioritise more immediate, palatable subjects, but it impacts members of our communities day in, day out— from terminal diagnoses to medical treatment and, ultimately, their final days. This really matters to me.
In my maiden speech, I pledged to campaign for people to have greater control in their final days and to afford those with terminal diagnoses the right to end their lives in dignity. This is not an argument against palliative care—some wonderful Macmillan nurses made my nan’s final months as comfortable as possible, and I absolutely agree with the many Members who have raised the issue today that we need to do more to support our palliative care sector—but good palliative care and a dignified end of life are not mutually exclusive.
Nor do I seek to control those who have strong religious beliefs. Those who believe that only God can take life have the complete freedom to wait for that moment. But that is their choice. [Interruption.] I am not taking any interventions. Many have legitimate concerns about safeguarding. Of course, the most vulnerable should not be coerced into making a decision. However, this Bill introduces specific offences for this. Indeed, combined with sign-off by two independent doctors, judicial oversight and a period of reflection, this means there would be robust mechanisms to protect the most vulnerable.
These details are vital, but so is our humanity. Being with my nan in the warmth of her home, as she was surrounded by her loving family after months of excruciating pain and no hope, I knew there and then that she should be able to choose her time to say goodbye to her family. Like so many others, she had had enough. An understanding and compassionate society should not stand in the way of her right to choose.
Members can see the profound impact this has had on me and my belief in the importance of end of life care and choice. It has enabled me to understand a crucial distinction at the heart of this emotive debate. This is not about shortening life; it is about shortening death.
I urge those Members who support the principle of this Bill, but who are concerned about the specifics of the safeguards, to support it on Second Reading. Further debate can be had in Committee, if hon. Members feel that changes are required. This Bill provides the choice to shorten death, which is a right that an empathetic and considerate society should afford its citizens.
Yesterday, we buried Tony Warr, a GMB officer and a really good friend. He was diagnosed with prostate cancer. He beat it once, but it took him in the end.
Earlier this week, the cancer community lost Nina Lopes. She had stage 4 triple-negative breast cancer and was given six months to live in 2018. Six months became six years, and she taught us how to dance through her @frodayss account.
As we have heard, it is not an exact science when someone is given a prognosis of six months to live. As a patron of Black Women Rising, a cancer charity that supports black and minoritised women through their cancer journey, someone who had been given six months to live recently told me, “I have had a good life, and I am ready to go.” Six weeks later, they are now fighting to live. The thing is, if we had focused only on the fact that she was ready to go and wanted to die, it would have all been very different.
As we have heard today, there are parts of the law that need changing around coercion, and around doctors being able to help people with their end of life treatment. However, I believe those safeguards and discussions can be separated from assisted dying and assisted suicide. I do not see why we need to have a combined discussion.
Everybody has the right to die with dignity and compassion. Whether or not this Bill progresses today, I hope those conversations will continue. After all, we are legislators, and we have the ability to do that. Eighty per cent of my constituents are against this legislation, and I will be voting against it.
This debate has been harrowing for all of us. However, to us falls the responsibility and the privilege of making this decision on behalf of those who go through experiences so harrowing that I do not think any of us can imagine them, even though we have heard their tales—I know that I cannot.
Until recently, I put it to the back of my mind that I have actually been in the situation of waiting to find out whether I would have a terminal diagnosis. I was lucky, as it went the other way. I do not know what I would have wanted but, as I waited, I thought about all the things I wanted to do and might be denied. People with a terminal diagnosis think about what they planned to do with their life, such as seeing their children and grandchildren grow and marry.
When we came here today, we were all aware of that, and we thought seriously about the implications and the need for palliative care, but it is not our job to say that we should not do this because palliative care needs to be improved and because the NHS cannot cope. Our job is to say that we need to improve palliative care so that the NHS can cope, and so that we can do this.
On the safeguards that are needed and included in the Bill, I believe they are there. For those with religious beliefs that mean they cannot countenance the Bill, I understand and respect their concerns, but I would not be standing here if I was not convinced that in this Bill we have the best opportunity to provide a choice safeguarded by medical and legal professionals and protected from that slippery slope. It happened in Canada because they did not have “terminal diagnosis” in the definition of the Bill from the beginning, but we do. If we vote the Bill through, it will go on to have the further and tougher levels of scrutiny that every piece of legislation in this place and the other place must go through. I respect everyone’s concerns and beliefs, but I also ask them, and all hon. Members, to respect those who have already been denied so much in their lives—those things I said they might want that they might be denied.
We have a choice today: we can lead a national conversation that examines the issue before all of us, dissect the Bill line by line and check its effectiveness, or we can vote to close it down today, and then the country and the families who are suffering will be denied the light they want to see thrown on the issue and the voice they want their loved ones or perhaps themselves to have.
Many of us have watched loved ones die difficult deaths, and we have over the past few weeks, months and years in politics heard harrowing tales and spoken to families who have had no choice but to watch their loved ones pass in the most harrowing of circumstances, or make an expensive—for many, prohibitively expensive—trip to Dignitas alone. I cannot help about those things they have been denied by the cruellest of fates, but surely we cannot deny them choice at end of life.
I have two very personal stories about why I support a change in the law. Last year, my dad’s health took a turn very much for the worse. He had sepsis, kidney failure and heart disease and had lived with Addison’s disease for almost 50 years. He was given the dreaded news that he only had a few months left to live. I would not have wished his last few weeks upon anyone. He was in agony and suffering—his breathing was difficult and he was in such pain. I struggled to see him suffer so much, but the nurses, doctors, carers and my incredible step-mum were all without fault and, thankfully, his palliative care was excellent. He was able to die at home with me, my sister and my step-mum by his side. Seeing him suffer so terribly convinced me that we need a change in the law so that people who are terminally ill have a choice.
My second story is from Australia where my brother lives. My wonderful sister-in-law Kelly sadly died of liver cancer that developed into bone cancer. She had a fractured left arm, pelvis and sacrum, and had cancer in her spine. At 54, Kelly was far too young to die. Her cancer was particularly painful and unforgiving. As she lived in Victoria, she was able to register for assisted dying. For her, it was incredibly comforting to know that if, and only if, she needed to, she could stop the suffering. She did not need it in the end, but she did have the option. In her darkest days—her fearful days—that brought her and my brother incredible peace of mind.
I heard similar stories of suffering in the hundreds of emails sent to me by constituents over the course of the past few months. People want and deserve access to both the best palliative care and a choice if they are terminally ill. The protections and evidence underpinning the Bill are strong. I was there for my dad’s final week when he was in so much pain, and I was there right at the end holding his hand. What a privilege to be with him at the end and to see him through. In memory of my dad and of Kelly, I support the Bill and urge all those across the House to support it, too.
Our nation, through many wonderful charities and through Government, reaches out compassionately to those who are threatening suicide. They are urged to use the services of the Samaritans and to get all the help they can. I cannot square the circle where the state would then move to itself sanction suicide—indeed, to facilitate and, in fact, to promote suicide. And to do that in respect of those who are intrinsically the most vulnerable in our society. Anyone who gets a diagnosis of terminal illness is, by reason of that, obviously vulnerable. Many, in consequence, suffer depression and other difficulties, so they are among the most vulnerable in our society. Being vulnerable, they are among those most liable to fall under the foul influence of coercion.
Coercion comes in many forms. Anyone who has listened to domestic abuse cases will know that it can be very insidious, invasive and persuasive, because the coercer has the constant ear of those they wish to coerce. Add into that mix the fact that that person might feel a burden. We have all heard old people say, “I am a burden on society. I am a burden on my family.” Even when they are told, “No, caring for you is not a chore, but a privilege,” they still think they are a burden. If in that background—that matrix—there is still the pernicious influence of coercion, then the thought that people reach a reasoned, considered, independent opinion is a fallacy.
It is those people that this House should be protecting above all, but this Bill does not protect people in that situation. Oh, we are told, “two doctors and a judge”. The judge does not have to, but he might decide to hold Zoom call with the applicant, but he is not to know if sitting in the corner of the room, out of camera shot, is the coercer. Where is the protection in that?
I say to the House that this issue cuts to the very quick of our fundamental duty to be the protectors of the most vulnerable. There is no part of the state’s function to be promoting or assisting the end of life for people who could be in that condition, and we will never know how many are in that condition, so I cannot and will not vote for the Bill.
Everybody in the Chamber wants a good death, but at the moment palliative care across the UK is chronically underfunded, mostly paid for with money raised by charities and a postcode lottery. I pay tribute to all the hospices that are working around the clock and doing an amazing job on very stringent budgets, especially St David’s Hospice and the Hospice of the Valleys, which do amazing work. However, we have to remember that although we are talking about people with very powerful stories—some of whom are here today—we legislate for all, and that means ensuring that our legislation is safe and future-proofed.
I have concerns about the Bill on issues such as presuming consent. My worry is that if the door is opened with this Bill, it will then be widened, as it has been in places such as the Netherlands, Belgium and Canada. These things will happen.
More than 65 private Member’s Bills were passed in the last Parliament. Not one of them had more than one sitting in Committee, where the average length of debate was 35 minutes; and just over a quarter had any amendments made to them at all. My hon. Friend the hon. Member for Spen Valley has said that she is willing to extend it, which I welcome; I will be pressing her on that to ensure it is safe. If the House votes to carry the Bill forward—I will be voting against it—scrutiny will be crucial at all points of its passage.
We have talked about terminal illness today, but intractable pain is something that people live with every day. That is another issue. In my 30 years as a physiotherapist, I have seen good deaths and bad deaths. We all want to ensure that we get the best for our constituents, so we need to ensure that end of life care is sorted. This has been a good debate, because we have talked—I have certainly talked to my family. My lovely mum of 89, who is disabled, housebound and widowed, said, “It’s all very well talking about assisted dying, but we need to talk about assisted living as well, because that is most important.” Quality of life is crucial here.
We need to ensure that we are here to legislate for all, which is why I will vote against the Bill today. I am grateful for the opportunity to explain.
I came to my conclusion not because of some sort of zealotry or evangelism. I completely acknowledge that there are people who go through very difficult situations where they lose their normal faculties and are in immense pain. However, we need to be clear about what we are discussing today: we are talking about wholesale change to how the state deals with death. That is really important. The Bill would place people, society and the medical profession in a number of scenarios, and put at great risk some of our most vulnerable people. That is part of the reason I will vote against it today.
The slippery slope arguments are valid in terms of the risk the legislation produces. We are talking about medicalising death, placing an undue burden on our health professionals and legitimising a role for the state in the death process.
I have yet to be convinced that the legislation has sufficient safeguards in place. On slippery slopes, take Canada as an example: there, someone does not even have to have a terminal or fatal illness now; mental illness will be an acceptable reason for assisted suicide in 2027. Even though it did not start that way in Canada, that Pandora’s box has clearly been opened, and we risk embarking on that route today. The hon. Member for Spen Valley has said that there is almost a guarantee that this situation will not change, but she cannot guarantee that future Parliaments will not change the goalposts on this matter. The slippery slope argument is about exactly that: when we embark on this journey, that is where we may end up, as the goalposts start to move.
I am conscious of time, so I will end my comments shortly. We have had lots of conversation about the private Members’ Bills process, and the hon. Lady cannot guarantee that there will be sufficient scrutiny and safeguards. We have not had enough impact assessments or public consultation, and there has been very limited time to look at this piece of legislation. We are at serious risk of passing something that will do immense harm. I worry that in the future we will look back at this, after there has been abuse or coercion of some of the most vulnerable people, and we will come back to the House to discuss the damage that we have caused today.
My constituents’ stories and the stories shared by hon. Members today have shown me that it is truly unacceptable to maintain the status quo. Without a change in the law, terminally ill people will continue to face the end of their lives with a very limited range of options. Some will travel abroad for help to die, but that is only an option for those with the financial means to do so. Choice at end of life should not be an option only for those who are financially stable or desperate. Death should be peaceful and pain-free, and the Bill gives us the opportunity to make that a reality. There is no doubt in my mind that the Bill, so carefully considered by my hon. Friend the Member for Spen Valley (Kim Leadbeater), would be an improvement for the lives and liberties of my constituents and those across the UK who are terminally ill. I urge Members to give it a Second Reading today.
I want to end with the words of one of my constituents, who wrote:
“We have some amazing care givers in this country who provide the most compassionate care in the most difficult of circumstances & that gives great comfort. But I feel no-one should be forced to know how the book ends when they are only part way through it without having the choice of putting it down and choosing one with a better ending.”
I have been concerned by some of the comments in the debate, so I re-read the Bill as I sat here. It has been suggested that mental health conditions would be included, but they would not—under clause 2(3). It was also suggested that people might not be offered surgery or other treatment, but they must, under clause 4(4). It is also worth noting the suggestion that a person being coerced could be protected by disclosing to the very family that might be coercing them. The provision for a witness in clause 5(2)(c)(ii) and the period of reflection would allow the independent person to be present at the appropriate time.
I have already shared publicly my own family’s death journeys—and I wear them on my jacket—but today is not about them. Today is about all those people who need this Bill. Last night I read the book “Die Smiling”, about Nigel’s journey to Dignitas. It ends with his final journey and a Facebook post, prepared before he made that agonising 20-hour journey to Switzerland with his wife and children. It moved me to tears. However, most people cannot afford that option. Most do not want to put their families at risk of prosecution; they want death on their own terms.
Gary lives in my constituency, and he asked me to tell the House his story of dying with liver cancer. He knows that the end stages will be brutal, and he wants to decide when enough is enough. He me:
“Death does not worry me at all. Dying a slow death with my dignity stripped away terrifies me. So when my time is right I will kill myself—alone and afraid. My sick dog will not have to die alone and afraid, but I am forced to do so. I want to die on my terms. How can this be right?”
Tracie, who was a palliative care nurse, told me:
“I’ve witnessed many end of life patients and I cannot say hand on heart that many of those patients had a peaceful death. I left palliative nursing as the emotional trauma became too much. There are neither the range of medication or symptom relief treatments available for many of the harrowing things people are forced to go through in their last days and weeks of their life.”
This Bill is about compassion and humanity, and we must listen to the voices of dying people.
It is not for me to make the case for His Majesty’s Opposition, because we have not taken a collective view, and, like many other Members, I have struggled greatly with this decision. I do not believe there is a perfect choice to be made today, just different versions of imperfection, and my time working as a doctor in A&E has made me sympathetic to both sides of the argument. I have seen the pain in the eyes of relatives who want to ease the suffering of their dying loved ones, but I have also held the hand of frail elderly people, forgotten by their families, feeling themselves to be nothing but a burden. When we reduce it to its core, we are facing a difficult dilemma.
Access to assisted dying could reduce suffering for the terminally ill. That is a choice that some people would like to have, and some people would make that choice without any undue pressure. If we vote against this Bill today, they will not have that choice. I caution against avoiding facing up to this hard moral reality by arguing that whatever people may fear about dying can always be managed by modern medicine. For all that it can achieve, modern medicine cannot achieve everything. We have heard examples today of the worst illnesses that do more than cause pain. The hon. Member for Bury St Edmunds and Stowmarket (Peter Prinsley) and my hon. Friend the. Member for Hinckley and Bosworth (Dr Evans) described dying from a catastrophic bleed that takes a person’s life in a panicked final moment.
Of course, the treatments we may use to help people with pain often rob them of what they may sincerely feel to be their own independence and dignity. Some people may not want to spend their final days in a drug-induced state of semi-consciousness to manage their pain. Those minded to vote against the Bill should give that the greatest possible consideration. I do not think that the Bill’s opponents can deny it, any more than its proponents can deny that if this law is passed, it will represent the crossing of a significant legal, societal and moral Rubicon. Every other expectation that we have of the state is for it to help to extend and protect life, but we will instead be asking the state to procure the medicines, provide the staff, and sign off through the courts a process that is designed to lead—and will lead—to someone’s death.
A deep respect for the sanctity of life is not the preserve only of religious thinkers. Opponents of the Bill place great weight on that consideration. They argue that once we accept that the state and its citizens can play a proactive role in causing death, the debate will shift from whether it should do that at all to how and when it should. It may be that we pass this legislation and no other in future, but those who have the utmost concern about even the possibility of an expanded Bill may vote against this one as the surest way for them personally to prevent that from happening.
The Mother of the House, the right hon. Member for Hackney North and Stoke Newington (Ms Abbott), argued that coercion is not limited to the selfishly motivated relative directly pressuring a vulnerable person. It can be as simple as knowing that people in the same position as oneself could and did choose to die. Some Members worry that people will then ask themselves not just “Do I want to die?”, but “Should I want to die?”
So where does this leave us? All of us can make a sensible and reasonable case for our positions, and even point to care and compassion, as we see it, in support of our view. Taking all this together, I think it means that one thing more than anything else should be our guiding principle today: we should, above all else, vote with great humility, and with respect for each and every vote cast in whichever direction. I want to direct that sentiment to the country at large. There are passionate campaigners on both sides of the debate, with their own perspectives, who fear greatly the outcome today if it turns out not to be the one that they want. I say to them that as well as being MPs, those voting today are also sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, parents and grandparents. Each Member will have in mind what they would want for their families and themselves.
Our final decisions will come at the end of a great deal of thought and careful consideration. As the hon. Member for Vauxhall and Camberwell Green (Florence Eshalomi) said, if people listened closely enough today they will have heard us all speaking with one voice—the voice of passion, for those people and causes that we are trying to aid with our vote, even if those people and causes are different. That passion represents this House at its very best. That should not be forgotten. I hope that it is something on which we can all agree.
As the Government remain neutral on this topic of conscience, and out of respect for my ministerial colleagues who are not able to outline their views in today’s debate, I will not be sharing my personal opinions on this matter. I will, however, be taking part in the vote. With all that in mind, I will keep my response brief and not take any interventions. The Government are of the view that any change to the law in this area is an issue of conscience for individual parliamentarians. It is rightly, in our view, a matter for Parliament rather than the Government to decide. Accordingly, the Government Benches will have a free vote should the views of the House be tested today.
If the will of Parliament is that the law in this area should change, the Government will of course respect their duty to the statute book and ensure that any Bill is effective and its provisions can be enforced. I thank my hon. Friend the Member for Spen Valley for bringing this important national conversation to the fore and for conducting her campaign with respect and integrity. I pay tribute to the campaigners on both sides of the debate, including Dame Esther Rantzen, Liz Carr, Nathaniel Dye and Baroness Grey-Thompson. They have all used their voices to advocate for what they believe and have contributed significantly to the important national conversation around death.
Regardless of views, the one thing we have in common is that we will all experience death at some point. Death is a topic that we do not tend to talk about very much, but these discussions have undoubtedly enabled families up and down the country to talk openly about their wishes and how they feel about their own death. That powerful honesty is a tribute to how Members of this House and campaigners have conducted themselves throughout, and I thank them for informing today’s debate.
Question agreed to.
Question put accordingly, That the Bill be now read a Second time.
Ordered,
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