For all good deaths there are deaths that are horrible. And it’s not because of the lack of resources, compassion or good will that this is so.
In the past, dignity was attributed to citizens of elevated character who lived in grandeur and received extraordinary privileges. Such dignitaries usually occupied a high political or ecclesiastical office that commanded reverence and respect. And when it came to dying, these statesmen would retire to their opulent homes with their loved ones, servants and medical staff to die with dignity.
These days, dignity is attributed to all humans, regardless of wealth, status, prestige, power and influence. According to the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights, all humans are, by their nature, worthy of a special level of respect.
The U.N. Declaration specifically emphasises in its preamble that all members of the human family possess “inherent dignity” and “equal and inalienable rights”, suggesting that dignity is not the sole preserve of the wealthy, powerful and influential.
Although dignity defies devaluation and discrimination, we have a situation in Australia where individuals are compelled to die without dignity.
As those who deal with the terminally ill know, the reason why certain Australians are denied dignity in their dying days relates to an oppressive law that compels the terminally and incurably ill with profound suffering to endure agony, distress and misery beyond their wishes.
As Oxford Professor of Jurisprudence, Ronald Dworkin, puts it, “Making someone die in a way that others approve, but the dying person believes a horrifying contradiction of his life, is a devastating, odious form of tyranny.”
I recall having a conversation with a senior oncologist from a Melbourne hospital who was troubled by a patient’s request to die. It was not, however, the request for death that concerned him.
He was, after all, one of the doctors who acknowledged in a survey published in The Journal of Medical Ethics administering medication with the intention of hastening death.
His major concern was with the increasing difficulty in accessing drugs that could do the job properly. As he told me, it was his duty to provide the necessary medical assistance needed to preserve his patient’s dignity, yet was thwarted by bureaucratic barriers, litigation and religious meddling. Worse still, his patient did not have close friends, family or a network that could help her in her time of need.
The only person who understood and respected her wish to die with grace and dignity was being stopped by a cruel and inhumane law.
This doctor possessed the knowledge, skills, compassion and courage to provide his patient with what she needed to die with dignity yet he was obstructed by a law that served no medical purpose other than to strip the terminally ill of their right to choose.
No doubt there are people who manage to die on their own terms with the help of contacts and people who are willing to risk imprisonment. But there are others who are not as fortunate.
As Steven Clarke, the son of a woman who was ultimately forced to die in a manner that contradicted her plans and preferences, writes in the Dying with Dignity Victoria site:
What [my mother] desperately needs is appropriate care from a doctor, the same reluctant but loving care that veterinary surgeons extend to cats and dogs every day. But she can’t have that.
The same government that has abjured so many services to the living on the grounds that self-help, market forces and freedom of choice are sacrosanct, has decreed that Mum, dying, can’t make this decision for herself, and that we who love her must also stand around and watch the consequences of losing our own freedom.
This case illustrates how a “beautiful, dignified and courageous” woman was cruelly denied dignity in her dying days.
Given that religious organisations claim to be motivated by the love of human kind and seek to increase the well-being of humankind and actively promote human welfare, they may have a much stronger part to play in addressing such a serious social justice issue by raising awareness within the inter-faith community and encouraging law reform.
Moreover, if religious leaders are genuine in their commitment to social justice, fairness, love and compassion, they should do much more to help breach the gap that exists between dignified and tragic deaths.
Instead, religious leaders shirk their moral responsibility by espousing church doctrine that achieves nothing other than greater human suffering.
Chris Fotinopoulos is a Melbourne based writer who has taught ethics and philosophy at the universities of Melbourne and Monash.