Understanding the way someone represents their adversaries in a debate can reveal a great deal. Do they interact with others constructively, giving them the benefit of the doubt regarding their intentions? Or do they suggest that the opposition is acting with ulterior motives? It’s intriguing to note that MP Kim Leadbeater, who is championing the bill to legalize assisted dying, seems to lean towards the latter tactic.
The stakes couldn’t be higher here: allowing terminally ill patients access to lethal prescriptions opens up the possibility of vulnerable individuals being coerced into assisted deaths with state endorsement. It’s vital for the bill’s advocates to engage earnestly with professionals like doctors, psychiatrists, social workers, legal experts, and those skilled in handling domestic abuse cases who raise these issues. Yet, Leadbeater seems somewhat dismissive of those challenging her bill. She refers to opposition as mere “noise” and accuses critics of being unhelpful, even lamenting their “mobilization.” It feels as though she’s implying that unless you’re in agreement with her views, your contribution to the bill’s scrutiny is unwelcome.
This perspective seems to reflect in the way the bill’s backers are managing its review process. Leadbeater formed the bill committee and conspicuously excluded seasoned MPs with relevant backgrounds, like psychiatrist Ben Spencer, opting instead for a relatively junior group. The committee dedicated only three days to hearing oral evidence, predominately from those supporting the bill. Astonishingly, no input was considered from domestic abuse experts, and the Royal College of Psychiatrists was only allowed to present evidence after much insistence. An overwhelming volume of nearly 400 written submissions arrived in recent weeks; when the committee will have time to thoroughly review these remains unclear. Meanwhile, the bill’s supporters seem to select favorable evidence, while overlooking medical experts highlighting potential pitfalls.
Recently, Leadbeater has unexpectedly suggested significant changes to the bill, an announcement so abrupt that it seems to be pushed through without prior warning. Up until a week ago, the bill boasted “the strongest global safeguards” by requiring a high court judge to approve assisted deaths. This process, criticized by legal minds on all sides as a mere formality lacking substantive scrutiny, needed substantial fortification to function as a true safeguard.
Leadbeater has opted to weaken this by removing the judicial oversight entirely; instead, panels of a senior lawyer or a judge, a social worker, and a psychiatrist now have the authority to give the green light. These panels can meet in private and lack the power to require witnesses to testify under oath. Additionally, there isn’t a way for family members to contest decisions based on incomplete evidence, nor is there an obligation to inform them, posing a risk of family members discovering a loved one has chosen assisted death only after it’s too late.
Critical opposition amendments aimed at enhancing the bill’s safeguards have been dismissed. Additional proposals remain, such as mandating independent psychiatric evaluations for those requesting assisted death, and opposing the bill’s extraordinary stipulation that shields doctors from civil liability, including negligence, when prescribing lethal drugs. Unless there’s a significant shift in stance, these conditions are likely to persist.
This process seems supported by the prime minister. Keir Starmer has openly backed the bill, with two ministers on the committee siding with its proponents, deviating from the expected neutrality and choosing not to abstain. The government’s decision to withhold an impact assessment, including financial implications, until the committee stage is over essentially gives the bill’s advocates free rein, contrasting starkly with the fiscal restraint demanded elsewhere.
At the core of this debate is whether it’s possible to clearly separate individuals who are making an autonomous, informed choice to end their lives from those who might be pressured by factors like mental illness, abuse, or poverty. Proponents of the bill seem convinced, somewhat naively, that this delineation is straightforward. In contrast, critics worry that vulnerable individuals will inevitably be swept up in these decisions. The terminological dispute highlights this tension; those in favor often reject the use of “suicide,” with Kit Malthouse MP absurdly suggesting it refers solely to “a healthy person ending their own life.” Meanwhile, the government’s suicide prevention adviser sees no discernible boundary between suicide and assisted dying.
If this legislation is passed, there will be cases where individuals are inappropriately prescribed lethal drugs by the state. No regulatory system is foolproof—take, for example, the Human Tissue Authority, which with its more rigorous independent assessment, has nonetheless authorized organ donations from trafficking victims.
The most generous explanation is that the bill’s supporters are so committed to empowering the individuals it intends to assist that they’ve downplayed its potential dangers. This might account for their outright denials of the bill’s inherent risks, along with their reluctance to consider improvements suggested by skeptics aiming to mitigate those risks should the bill become law.
If this trend persists, the blind partisanship and well-meaning self-deception championed by its supporters will lead to wrongful deaths. Responsibility for these consequences won’t stop with Kim Leadbeater but will extend to Keir Starmer himself.
