When the assisted dying bill met the politics of soundbites

By William Raven

While not as polarising as Johnson or Truss, Theresa May was, by nearly all measures, a pretty dire Prime Minister. From her proposed Brexit deal being defeated in the Commons by a crushing 230 votes, to her decision to run and hide from the families and victims of the 2017 Grenfell fire, her premiership  rarely brought anything but troubling headlines. Nevertheless, following her resignation, and given the extremely poor quality of her successors, her ever increasing seniority in the Commons, and wider society, allowed her to assume a position of a ‘senior stateswoman’ whose interjections were treated near-reverentially by many of her peers.

It is fair to say, however, that since leaving 10 Downing Street, May cut a very different figure from the lady who had never stepped out of line further than "running through a field of wheat" as a child. Having earnt the title of Baroness May of Maidenhead, and since leaving left the country’s highest elected office, the former-Prime Minister began to take stronger individual stances, even criticising the Conservative government when Dominic Cummings broke lockdown rules, in 2020,  writing that she “understood the anger” felt by many towards the Prime Ministerial aide over his flagrant flaunting of Covid regulations.  Yet, just because she may have changed her leopard-print spots, that does not mean May, or any other individual, should be above critique, and given her former position and continued influence, her words and actions really do matter. 

With this in mind, when May chose to speak in the Lords on the Terminally Ill Adults Bill, on Friday 12th September,  she made comments that deserve to be scrutinised, irrelevant of who made them.  As one of the 190 peers scheduled to speak on the Bill, her time was short, but her decision to use the story of ‘a friend’ referring to the proposed legalisation of assisted dying as a “licence to kill bill” was a strange one. In a session that was filled with strongly-held opinions and heartfelt speeches, the “license to kill” reference was hugely out of place and has ramifications far beyond the four walls of that chamber. Simply speaking, it seemed to lower the overall quality of a debate which, somewhat uncharacteristically for contemporary British politics, has been exemplary in its maturity and quality of contribution across the political spectrum.  Such ‘soundbite politics’ is simply not befitting a former-Prime Minister, whatever the debate.

This, in itself, would not have drawn my attention. But, as a young man, I am regularly reminded, and rightly so, that suicide is still the main killer for young people under-35 with around three-quarters of those victims being boys and young men. Therefore, when Baroness May stated, towards the end of her speech, that this was “an assisted suicide Bill” which would send a message that “suicide was okay”, I found myself deeply frustrated.

The glaring issue, however, remains that any “framing of assisted dying” in relation to suicide, is not only an egregious oversimplification which belies the immense complexities of personal agency and suffering, but that it can also massively stigmatise victims of illness, both mental and physical, for supposedly ‘losing’ in their battles against suffering.

Despite huge efforts to destigmatise and start conversations surrounding suicide, May’s emphasis on the 'wrong' of suicide is very damaging. This language of ‘wrongdoing’ inherently blames the person committing the act of suicide and seeing as attempted suicide was decriminalised all the way back in 1961, it is a very outdated view to hold in 2025, let alone platform on a national stage. Truly, May’s opposition to the bill, which centres around the issue of whether individuals could feel pressured to end their lives, is not the issue but it is the manner in which she presents this argument. 

It would be unfair to say that there is not some difficulty in separating assisted dying, or at least the concept of it, from suicide. But, to answer this we must ask ourselves, collectively, whether we place rigid definitions over empathy for those suffering the most. The efforts by those opposed to the Bill, including Baroness May, to collate suicide with assisted dying, have not gone unnoticed as they attempt to tarnish the Bill by association. As has been pointed out, but must be reiterated, those put in the impossible position of whether or not to choose an assisted death “definitely don’t want to die, but they are dying, and they have no choice about that.” This Bill is about giving them that choice, it is about empathy, and last ditch efforts to halt its carefully "shepherded" progress through the Lords should be called out for what they are.

Kim Leadbeater MP, who introduced the Bill to the Commons rather more diplomatically handled May’s intervention, stating that it was “very powerful” although noting that they approached the debate “at different sides of this argument”. The glaring issue, however, remains that any “framing of assisted dying” in relation to suicide, is not only an egregious oversimplification which belies the immense complexities of personal agency and suffering, but that it can also massively stigmatise victims of illness, both mental and physical, for supposedly ‘losing’ in their battles against suffering.

We know that starting conversations to destigmatise suicide helps to prevent people from suffering alone. For this reason, Baroness May’s speech and attempts by her and any others, to present suicide and assisted dying as one and the same, are not just headline-grabbing but actively damaging. Concerns about coercion and the Bill’s ultimate implementation are very valid and generally speaking a consensus exists on both sides of the argument, when it comes to these points. That the Bill must not enable vulnerable individuals to be coerced and that when implemented, it must be effective in helping those most in need of relief. Yet, beyond these essential points, it is clear that our empathy must continue to drive our resolve for change, and that compassion should be at the forefront of any debates on assisted dying, not ‘soundbite politics’.

Image: PA/Creative Commons