For many of us, this is a difficult question that involves profound moral and social considerations.
The highbrow Dear Abby of the New York Times — a.k.a. The Ethicist (who is a philosophy professor at NYU) — published an inquiry from a reader whose “difficult aunt” is pondering assisted suicide. The Ethicist’s response was rather namby-pamby. From his answer:
It would be kind to give her a call, explaining that her messages left you concerned and uncertain about her situation. (A decision to seek MAID is a far cry from obtaining it; eligibility is subject to a formal medical assessment.) You can ask whether she has spoken to her doctors about MAID and what they’ve told her. Just be careful about offering more than you can give. You don’t have to make yourself available for an extended or continuing conversation.
The “difficult aunt” aspect of the question deflected from the truly pressing moral issue that the inquiry presented. What if you are asked to support someone with whom you are close — a parent, spouse, child, sibling, cousin, friend — in his or her decision to commit assisted suicide. More anguishing, what if your loved one wants you to be there for it? What would you do?
It seems to me that for many of us, this is a difficult question that involves profound moral and social considerations. If you attend the death, you will be complicit in the suicide. Your presence might be perceived as a validation and endorsement by the suicidal person and by others. And it might communicate to the suicidal person that his or her worst fears are true; that life is no longer worth living, that suffering cannot be alleviated. That is a moral burden you could carry for the rest of your life — and perhaps beyond, depending on your beliefs.
But if you don’t attend, you might worry about — or could be perceived by others as — abandoning someone you love at a most consequential moment. Saying no also means that you will be absent when the end comes, which could also be a burden to carry. You might even face estrangement from loved ones who interpret your refusal to be in the room as cruel or judgmental.
Of course, the question isn’t binary — to attend or not. Your response could (should) also involve an attempt to help the suicidal person decide to not commit suicide. Compassion means to suffer with someone. It seems to me that helping a loved one live on would be a true act of caring.
If you are the person who wants assisted suicide, you also face a moral dilemma. Do you ask the people you love to take on the moral weight of your suicide? Is it moral to force such choices on others? Is it selfish? But who wants to die without loved ones present to ease the passage?
Bah. These awful moral dilemmas should not exist. And they would not but for the euthanasia movement’s activism, the spreading legalization of facilitated death, and the consequential normalization of having family and friends attend these deaths, which is seen repeatedly in the media.
Assisted suicide isn’t going away anytime soon. So we had all better think deeply about this question, because we never know when that call might come.
So, what would you do?