One story has repeatedly popped up in the news over the last few months that just won't seem to die, so to speak. Every time I run across it, I fall into a paralysis of moral uncertainty. So I says to myself, I says, "Blog it."
Daniel James was a well-educated and well-heeled English rugby player who, in a rugby accident, became paralysed from the neck down. Anyone who's played rugby knows that injuries, even fairly serious ones, are par for the course. Where the story gets tricky is when James decided that a broken body wasn't worth living in, travelled to Switzerland, and received assistance in ending his own life.
I'll happily grant that there is no good argument against permitting euthanasia for the terminally ill. I'd even say that it is a right, meaning the onus of argument is on those who would rather ban it, because each is entitled to it a priori. My confusion starts when considering the question in cases short of terminal illness, leaving aside the observation that life is always a terminal condition.
One bulwark of market liberalism, The Economist, recently weighed in on the topic, declaring that euthanasia is fine in cases of terminal illness but inadmissible in other cases. Their reasoning is that the risk of the elderly being pressured into early graves by greedy associates (for insurance money or inheritance, if it isn't obvious) is too great. It's true that every individual is and ought to be the final arbiter on matters of his/her own existence, but the social consequences might require some qualifications on that position. For example, I once heard suicide described as a permanent solution to a temporary problem (must've been an after-school special). This doesn't apply in cases like Mr. James's, but it does in many other conceivable ones. Consider the depressed debtor who reckons that ending her life would be preferable to rebuilding her credit, which isn't so far fetched, or the politician whose scandals get to be too much, or the single parent who doesn't want to face another day of too much responsibility. In such cases, the perpavictim (victitrator?) basically bails himself out of responsibility. Piss on them slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, I'm cashin' in my chips. This choice leaves the rest of us holding the bag for somebody else's responsibilities, which isn't cool.
As to Mr. James, whose condition was permanent, I have a really hard time empathizing with his response to paralysis, but any outside perspective is arguably irrelevant anyway. I've known productive and contented people who happened to be wheelchair-bound. It would be foolish to claim that paralysed life bears some special and valuable properties - it sucks, it's a rough deal, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Still, there are pursuits one can enjoy with just a brain and some sensory apparatus: music, books, movies, social contacts, etc. But some people seem not to care for them, and who has the right to force them. Some of my favourite last words come from George Eastman (of Eastman-Kodak fame), who wrote on his suicide note, "My work is done. Why wait?" I would find those words coming from Daniel James less credible, being such a young man, but the sentiment might still apply, and the big difference was that James lacked the ability to do it himself when nobody would be around to prevent him.
I don't have an easy answer for it, but I did want to get the question out there. Maybe now it will stop dogging me.
Daniel James was a well-educated and well-heeled English rugby player who, in a rugby accident, became paralysed from the neck down. Anyone who's played rugby knows that injuries, even fairly serious ones, are par for the course. Where the story gets tricky is when James decided that a broken body wasn't worth living in, travelled to Switzerland, and received assistance in ending his own life.
I'll happily grant that there is no good argument against permitting euthanasia for the terminally ill. I'd even say that it is a right, meaning the onus of argument is on those who would rather ban it, because each is entitled to it a priori. My confusion starts when considering the question in cases short of terminal illness, leaving aside the observation that life is always a terminal condition.
One bulwark of market liberalism, The Economist, recently weighed in on the topic, declaring that euthanasia is fine in cases of terminal illness but inadmissible in other cases. Their reasoning is that the risk of the elderly being pressured into early graves by greedy associates (for insurance money or inheritance, if it isn't obvious) is too great. It's true that every individual is and ought to be the final arbiter on matters of his/her own existence, but the social consequences might require some qualifications on that position. For example, I once heard suicide described as a permanent solution to a temporary problem (must've been an after-school special). This doesn't apply in cases like Mr. James's, but it does in many other conceivable ones. Consider the depressed debtor who reckons that ending her life would be preferable to rebuilding her credit, which isn't so far fetched, or the politician whose scandals get to be too much, or the single parent who doesn't want to face another day of too much responsibility. In such cases, the perpavictim (victitrator?) basically bails himself out of responsibility. Piss on them slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, I'm cashin' in my chips. This choice leaves the rest of us holding the bag for somebody else's responsibilities, which isn't cool.
As to Mr. James, whose condition was permanent, I have a really hard time empathizing with his response to paralysis, but any outside perspective is arguably irrelevant anyway. I've known productive and contented people who happened to be wheelchair-bound. It would be foolish to claim that paralysed life bears some special and valuable properties - it sucks, it's a rough deal, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Still, there are pursuits one can enjoy with just a brain and some sensory apparatus: music, books, movies, social contacts, etc. But some people seem not to care for them, and who has the right to force them. Some of my favourite last words come from George Eastman (of Eastman-Kodak fame), who wrote on his suicide note, "My work is done. Why wait?" I would find those words coming from Daniel James less credible, being such a young man, but the sentiment might still apply, and the big difference was that James lacked the ability to do it himself when nobody would be around to prevent him.
I don't have an easy answer for it, but I did want to get the question out there. Maybe now it will stop dogging me.
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