There are more loving alternatives to euthanasia

We all want to be compassionate in difficult circumstances; we all value personal freedom. In that task I am concerned to look beyond political expediency, economic myopia and ideological posturing.

The Queensland parliamentary inquiry into aged care, end-of-life and palliative care, and voluntary assisted dying prompts reflection on the kind of society we want to be. And it should be self-evident from the outset that we should want to be a society that promotes and supports people’s dignity and autonomy as far as possible as they age and approach the end of life.

If we are not doing this, then we need to fix it. On the issue of so-called voluntary assisted dying, however, our reflection needs to be very deep and very careful. It cannot simply be about claiming that this would respect free choice or end suffering. Both human freedom and human suffering are deeply significant experiences. So, as a society, we need to tread lightly and carefully in making laws to ensure that our laws do not undermine freedom and dignity under the illusion that we are supporting them; we need to be careful not to cause more suffering, under the impression we are ending it.

First, however, it is worth being clear about what it is that we are considering. We are not talking about demanding that life be prolonged at all costs. Insisting that there is an obligation to preserve life at all costs is not consistent with a Catholic ethic. Life is a good, but it is neither absolute nor the greatest good. Dying is part of life, and the ultimate good is God. The Catholic tradition has developed several important moral distinctions to help us to navigate this space over its history.

The Catholic tradition affirms that:

• A person can voluntarily stop treatment for a terminal illness that is judged to be overly burdensome or disproportionate.

• Pain and suffering can be relieved, even if the medication intentionally administered for this purpose could have the foreseeable effect of hastening death.

• A person, together with their families and loved ones, should discuss their wishes in terms of care and their desire for potential life-prolonging interventions should they become incompetent, and they can document this in the form of an advanced care plan.

None of the above constitutes so-called voluntary assisted dying, physician-assisted suicide or euthanasia, and each of them is perfectly compatible with the Catholic faith. What’s more, all of these scenarios should fit comfortably within the spectrum of what should be provided in a properly funded palliative care system.

This is something we have yet to achieve and something that we should insist be made possible. When we talk about so-called voluntary assisted dying, euthanasia, physician-assisted suicide, or however else it’s styled, we cannot avoid the fact we are talking about the intentional killing of a person; nor can we avoid the fact the supposed justification for this killing is because that person’s life has been judged by themselves or by others to be not worth living.

Do we really expect those who are tasked with healing us, our doctors and nurses, to also engage in intentionally killing patients in their care?

I acknowledge that it may be tempting to think of euthanasia as more humane, more compassionate, more loving.

I do not dispute the fact many of those who support the idea do so because they really believe it is a loving solution to suffering. Seeing loved ones suffer and wanting to end that suffering is of course a response motivated by care, and concern, and love.

There is another pain that can lead to thoughts of death, and that is loneliness, which often goes hand-in-hand with depression. Loneliness, depression and acute physical pain are a powerful cocktail that seems to be fuelling the call for euthanasia.

Yet the irony of it all is that these are all things we can do something about that does not entail legalising the killing of those who experience these things.

Love cannot remove all the pain. But it can alleviate the fear, the feelings of being a burden, the feeling indeed that one is not worth anything. In moments of the most intense suffering, love finds its deepest expression.

It’s the faithful wife at the bedside, the daughter or son holding the hand of the sick mother, the lifelong friend staying in the hospital room while the sick friend sleeps, the priest who ministers the grace of the sacraments to the dying. It’s this love that inspires the sufferer to endure pain to be with the beloved for just a while longer.

Blanche d’Alpuget spoke recently of her experience of caring for Bob Hawke in his dying days, remarking on the unique intimacy of caring for somebody in so debilitated a state. Hers is one of many stories of the intimacy and meaning that can be born of suffering.

In his statement to the inquiry into aged care, end-of-life and palliative care, and voluntary assisted dying, Anglican Archbishop of Brisbane Phillip Aspinall made the following important point: a simple principle — “you do not take human life” — has been a social, legal and moral cornerstone of civilised society for thousands of years.

As recently as the 1990s, many Australian states, the federal Senate and the House of Lords in Britain all inquired into euthanasia and all recommended against it. What has changed since the 90s to warrant altering such a fundamental social, legal and moral principle? Why should these relatively recent inquiries now be considered to be in error socially, legally, morally or logically? There have been no such changes in our society to warrant legalising assisted suicide and euthanasia.

Let us not make the mistake of thinking that we are respecting freedom when we provide the means for someone to kill themselves, or of thinking that we are being loving and compassionate when we intentionally and actively hasten a person’s death.

We respect freedom when we are sure that our social structures and laws don’t make anyone feel they or society would be better off if they were dead.

We are compassionate when we ensure that our society and its laws leave no one feeling that their life is not worth living or that they are under some subtle obligation to end their lives.

Mark Coleridge is the Catholic Archbishop of Brisbane.