Death is part of our human experience

There are times when it is better to "let nature take its course".

The debate around assisted dying is undoubtedly a difficult and sensitive one. However, Nelson Jones's recent blog, conflating as it did two very different issues, served only to muddy the waters.

In the piece, Jones sought to argue that because, in certain situations, a clinical decision is made by medical personnel not to attempt resuscitation of the patient, this is essentially equivalent to the medical profession making the decision to end the life of a vulnerable person. It would be more honest, Jones argued, to allow the choice of when their life should end to be made by the patient.

There can be little doubt that medical technology is now such that we can artificially prolong the lives of people through interventions which are at times inappropriate. However, in our death-denying culture, there are times when we need to remember that death is a part of our human experience, and that not every death is the result of a medical failure. There are times when the better decision is to let go, to step back and “let nature take its course”. This is the purpose of the “do not attempt resuscitation” (DNAR) decision: that further medical intervention would be futile and of no benefit to the patient.

However, the withholding or withdrawing of medical treatment differs fundamentally from the deliberate ending of life. The Church of Scotland is active in many projects offering care, comfort and support to the vulnerable in many practical ways. We therefore find the prospect of legislation allowing assisted dying to be deeply concerning, as it has the potential to undermine focus on the care and comfort of all as they move through the last stages of life- especially those who are placed in a vulnerable position as a result of age, incapacity or other circumstance.

While personal autonomy is indeed an important issue, it is a dangerous fallacy to believe that a person can act independently of all others, with their actions having no consequences for anybody else. Interpersonal relationships are vital: life is lived and death experienced as part of community. Assisted suicide cannot be a personal choice because it will inevitably effect everyone, and how tragic if those most vulnerable in our communities begin to feel that their lives are somehow less worth our resources. What a tragically bleak view of human life- and how far removed from the call of the church to show love and concern, compassion and support for all around us.

Death, as a natural process, cannot be avoided: despite the inevitable sadness involved in saying farewell to a loved one, emphasis should be placed on ensuring that all participants in the process experience as fulfilled and comfortable a final journey as possible.

We would emphasise the need for all aspects of care to be improved; there is concern, however, that assisted dying legalisation will undermine, rather than enhance, other aspects of end of life care and the manner in which society values every human being. Clearly it would be a step too far if vulnerable patients felt pressured to opt for assisted dying because of a lack of resources to give them an acceptable quality of life in their last months.

In common with many people of faith, the Church of Scotland would affirm that the worth and dignity of every human life needs to be emphasised and celebrated. Indeed, the Gospel of Jesus Christ which the Church of Scotland seeks to live out emphasises the value and worth of all human life, no matter the circumstances. Any legislation to bring about the deliberate ending of a human life would be a sea-change in how we perceive one another. Society places a prohibition on the killing of others (because we understand the profound commonality of life): this is a line which we must not cross.

Rev Sally Foster-Fulton is Convener of the Church and Society Council of the Church of Scotland, and is Assistant Minster of Dunblane Cathedral. For further information on the work of the Church and Society Council, see their website.

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When Theresa May speaks, why don’t we listen?

Not many Prime Ministers have to repeat themselves three times. 

Theresa May is the candidate of Brexit and market panic. She ascended to the highest office because, in the fraught weeks after Britain’s vote to leave the European Union, she represented a safe haven for nervous Conservative MPs, the dependable family mutual that remained open while all along the Conservative high street, her rivals were shutting up shop.

Her popularity, as revealed in high poll ratings outside Westminster, too, owes itself to the perception that she is a serious politician in serious times, happily installed atop the ship of state to guide it through the rocky waters of Brexit negotiations.

May’s premiership has been defined by market panics of a different kind, however. The first is in the currency markets, where sterling takes a tumble whenever she pronounces on Britain’s future relationship with the European Union, falling both after her conference speech on 2 October and after her start-of-the-year interview with Sophy Ridge on 8 January. The second is in the opinion pages, where May’s stock oscillates wildly from bullish to bearish.

In the first months of May’s government, she was hailed as an Anglo-Saxon counterpart to Angela Merkel: a solid centre-right Christian democrat who would usher in a decade of conservative hegemony. More recently, she has been compared to Gordon Brown because of her perceived indecisiveness and repeatedly accused of failing to spell out what, exactly, her government’s Brexit objectives are.

In a symbol of the splits on the right between the Brexiteers and Remainers, the Economist, that bible of free-market globalisation and usually a reliable tastemaker as far as Westminster groupthink is concerned, began 2017 by dubbing the Prime Minister “Theresa Maybe”. Though May’s Downing Street is less concerned with the minutiae of what goes on in the public press than David Cameron’s, the contention that she is indecisive was a source of frustration.

There is an element of truth in the claim that May still views the world through a “Home Office lens”. One senior minister complains that Downing Street considers the Ministry of Justice as a “rogue outpost” of May’s old stomping ground, rather than a fully fledged department with its own interests and perspectives.

Yet even the most authoritarian of home secretaries would struggle to secure a conviction against May on the charge of opacity as far as her Brexit approach is concerned. She has hit the same grace notes with the reliability of a professional musician: Brexit means freedom from the jurisdiction of the European Court of Justice and control over Britain’s borders, two objectives that can only be achieved as a result of Britain’s exit not only from the EU but also the single market. This was confirmed on 17 January in the Prime Minister’s Lancaster House speech in London.

David Cameron used to say that he would never have “a people”. Certainly, there is no Cameroon tendency in the country at large to match the generation of council house residents that became homeowners and lifelong Conservatives because of Margaret Thatcher and Right to Buy. However, there is, unquestionably, a Cameroon people or faction to be found at almost every rung of London’s financial services sector or at editorial meetings of the Economist, though it as at the Times and the Sun where the treatment of May is at its most noticably rougher than in the Cameron era. 

Michael Gove, her old rival, is not only employed as a columnist by the Times; he enjoys the confidence and admiration of Rupert Murdoch. That the Times secured the first British interview with Donald Trump was a coup for Murdoch, an old associate of the president-elect, and for Gove, who conducted it. It left May in the unlovely position of making history as the first prime minister to be scooped to a first meeting with a new American president by a sitting MP in modern times. It also attested to a source of frustration among May’s allies that she is, for all her undoubted popularity, still ignored or doubted by much of the right-wing establishment.

That condescension partly explains why her words are often listened to briefly, acted on hastily and swiftly forgotten, hence the pound’s cycle of falling when she makes an intervention on Brexit and rising shortly thereafter. The Lancaster House speech was designed to break this pattern. Downing Street briefed the most potent paragraphs at the weekend so that the markets could absorb what she would say before she said it.

As a result, the pound rallied as May delivered her speech, which contained a commitment to a transitional deal that would come into effect after Britain has left the EU. Some financiers believe this arrangement could become permanent, which once again demonstrates how much they underestimate May’s ability to enforce her will.

Being underestimated by Cameron’s people, in Westminster and the City, has the unintended effect of shoring up Theresa May’s position. A prolonged and sustained bout of panic would increase the pressure for a soft landing, but its absence makes it harder for Labour to oppose her effectively, although it has largely acquiesced to the Tory plan for Brexit, at least as far as membership of the single market is concerned. 

Yet for all the plaudits that the Prime Minister’s Lancaster House speech attracted, for all her undoubted popularity in the country, she is in the anomalous position of being a Conservative Prime Minister who has priorities on the European stage other than the preservation of the City of London and to whom Rupert Murdoch is not a natural ally.

As such, she may find that her deadlier enemies come from the right.

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. His daily briefing, Morning Call, provides a quick and essential guide to British politics.