Assisted Suicide

Craig Whittaker Excerpts

Tuesday 27th March 2012 Commons Chamber

[Craig Whittaker (Calder Valley) (Con)]

Some excellent points have been made on both sides of the argument, but no one has mentioned the effect on the person who is asked to assist. I wonder how many Members have been asked to take, or assist in taking, someone’s life. I am not talking about taking a life in the way that some Members have been trained to in the armed forces; nor am I talking about watching someone close who is in a terminal plight, and wishing that one could change places with them. I am talking about being asked by a loved one to help them take their life, or a loved one insisting that one takes their life for them. We have all seen loved ones in their final stages of life, and when we see a young person or a child in that situation there is not one of us who would not swap places, but physically to take someone’s life or be a party to taking someone’s life is a totally different thing.

Almost 28 years ago to the day, my family were asked to do just that. My youngest brother, who was just 17 and suffering from terminal cancer, asked all of us, as a family, to help him take his own life. My family are Christians and we struggled with the morality of what was being asked. As I said, not one of us would not have swapped places with him, but we were just a normal, ordinary family; we had no medical experience and we all have a strong belief in life and the reasons for life itself. My brother passed away on 20 April 1984, incredibly loved and incredibly comfortable, having received excellent palliative and hospice care.

Here we are, 28 years later, and the guilt, under whatever guise, still eats away at us. My father, who passed away only five years ago, spoke to me briefly about it just before he died. He felt guilty that he could not bring himself to give to his dying son what he had asked him to do. The guilt of his perceived failure ate away at my dad until his dying day.

There is, however, another side to this story, which is incredibly important for why we need to consider seriously what we are doing. What I have described took place in early 1980s Australia, where there was not an NHS equivalent. My father had been made redundant 18 months prior, and, being an incredibly proud man—some would say stubborn—he would not take state benefits. My brother had gone from being covered medically at school to being uncovered at 16. No insurance company would take him on because of his illness. My parents were thousands of dollars in debt, and our family home was on the market in order to pay the medical bills. My brother’s treatment was more than 100 miles away, in Sydney, because there was no other provision close by, and we did not get any help with travel. Thankfully, the situation in Australia today is very different from what it used to be.

I am absolutely convinced that the only reason why my brother asked us to help him take his life was because he perceived that he was a burden to his family—there was no other reason. I say that there was no other reason because, although this was a very long time ago, the level of palliative care offered by our local Catholic nurses was excellent. Nowadays we have so much more modern technology and drugs that there is absolutely no need for people to suffer, whatever their condition, prior to death.

Thankfully, we could not do what my brother asked. I ask this House not to put the guidance on a statutory basis. Our doctors, nurses and health professionals work daily to save lives. This House prays on a daily basis for wisdom and the life of our great nation. If we do change the guidance, that will without question be yet another slippery slope for society in a civilisation where we cherish life. There is no need to change the legislation; what we need is much higher investment in palliative care and hospice provision.