My Lords, I added my name to the amendments in the name of the noble and right reverend Lord, Lord Harries of Pentregarth. I am glad that we have the opportunity to spend a few moments examining this question of the nature of voluntariness in the circumstances for which we are seeking to legislate.
There can be a multitude of pressures on people who are ailing or nearing death; people who find themselves in a situation in which they consider that they may wish to seek assistance in their suicide. I know that my noble and learned friend Lord Falconer, in the drafting of the Bill, has sought very clearly to preclude situations in which anyone is driven by coercion or duress to a decision of this nature. It is going to be very difficult to ensure that those conditions are satisfied, whether in the context of the original Bill or whether in the Bill as modified by the amendment in the name of the noble Lord, Lord Pannick. There are the most overt and obvious pressures coming, perhaps, from family members who are exhausted, angry and grudging, and who may not love the person they find themselves
having to care for. There are, as my noble friend Lady Mallalieu mentioned this morning, circumstances in which family members are actually motivated by venal considerations. They want to stop spending all this money on the costs of care and hurry up their inheritance. Although it is most unpleasant to think of these possibilities in human nature, they do exist and we cannot ignore those possibilities.
There could also be pretty overt pressures from professional carers and doctors who are under pressure, working with inadequate resources, impatient, testy and frustrated themselves. We can see a range of possibilities, from inadequate but well intended care, going all the way through to the kind of institutionalised callousness that was reported at Mid-Staffordshire and Winterbourne View—situations of elder abuse. In a sense, it should be easier to preclude people coming to a decision to seek to end their own life with assistance in such obvious circumstances. However, there are then the subtler situations, in which someone has perhaps been pressurised unintendedly by a person whose gesture or facial expression was not meant to be seen by the relative or person for whom they are caring and was interpreted by that person to signify that they were a nuisance or were no longer wanted.
In her speech at Second Reading, the noble Baroness, Lady Campbell of Surbiton, talked of the pressures of pity and how pity can be experienced as contempt and as a signal that your life is not worth living. There are tacit pressures that could arise even from the availability of the remedy that this legislation would make legal—its tendency to normalise the practice of assisted suicide and, going with that, a tendency to diminish trust between patients, sufferers and those who have responsibility for their care. A number of noble Lords have spoken of the risks of an altered ethos in the medical profession. Of course, people who are old and ill and costing the NHS or their families a lot of money may simply felt that they ought to stop incurring such expenditure. If people internalise such pressures and arrive at a sense that their continued existence cannot be justified and they do not have the self-worth they once had, if they feel guilty and that they are a burden on their families and the system, are we to say that these are decisions freely taken? The noble Baroness, Lady Warnock, in her speech at Second Reading proposed to us that people could proudly and honourably—admirably—come to a decision that they should not be a burden on others. Is that a freely-made decision when such pressures have been psychologically and emotionally internalised? It is a difficult question to judge.