It'll be easier for disabled Scots to access help to die than to live

The Herald Scotland

08-05-2025

Its definition of "terminal illness" is broad and vague - far looser than the definition in the Westminster Bill. It opens the door to pressure, whether direct or indirect, on people already dealing with pain, isolation, or fear. It tells people like us that our lives may be considered no longer worth living. And once that message is out there, it is impossible to take back.
Read more
Pam recently wrote to every MSP with a warning that cuts to the heart of this issue: "If this bill passes, there is a real risk that, for people like me, it will be easier to access help to die than to live."
That is not a rhetorical flourish. It is a statement grounded in the harsh realities many disabled people face.
Long waits for social care.
A patchy mental health system.
Barriers to housing, work, and accessible healthcare.
These are daily facts of life. Yet instead of fixing these systems, this Bill offers a fast track to death. Is that really the message we want to send?
Proponents of the Bill say it is about choice. Choice, however, only exists when all options are truly available. When people lack proper care, support, or community, "assisted dying" starts to look less like a choice and more like surrender.
For many disabled people, the choice this Bill offers is a false one, shaped by disadvantage, not dignity. We also worry about how the law will evolve.
In other countries where assisted dying has been legalised, the criteria have expanded over time. What starts with "terminal illness" often becomes "unbearable suffering." And who decides what counts as "unbearable"?
An anti-assisted dying campaigner (Image: Jonathan Brady/PA Wire)
Too often, it is a judgement made through the lens of assumptions, not lived experience. Let's not kid ourselves: if this Bill passes, vulnerable people - disabled people, older people, people with mental illness - will feel it most. We have seen it happen elsewhere. We cannot let it happen here.
We need only look to Canada for a warning. Roger Foley, a man living with severe disabilities including spinocerebellar ataxia, has endured firsthand the dark consequences of a system where assisted dying has been normalised. Despite leading an accomplished life - earning two degrees, working in banking, and volunteering across his community - Roger's deteriorating health left him fully dependent on care. Instead of receiving the self-directed support he needed to live, he says he was trapped in a hospital for over eight years, denied the basic help that would allow him to return home. Worse, Roger reports being pressured by healthcare staff to consider assisted death.
Neglect, verbal abuse, and suggestions that he should opt for Medical Assistance in Dying (MAiD) replaced the compassion and support he sought. Roger's experience shows what happens when a society makes death more accessible than care. He's a real-life example of the fact that some vulnerable people are not given real choices - they are steered toward giving up. Roger calls himself a "canary in the coal mine."
His story is a stark reminder: once assisted dying becomes an accepted "solution" for suffering, the pressure on disabled, ill, and elderly people to end their lives quietly will grow. We must also learn from Belgium's experience.
Tine Nys was just 38 when she died by assisted dying under Belgian law. As a child, she struggled with severe psychiatric problems and had previously attempted suicide. But according to her sisters, Lotte and Sophie, Tine was not incurably ill as the law required - she was suffering from the emotional fallout of a recent breakup.
She had not received psychiatric treatment for 15 years. Just two months before her death, she was diagnosed with autism, but no treatment had yet begun. Despite these facts, her death was later ruled legal.
This outcome highlights how dangerously broad and poorly defined assisted dying laws can become in practice. When short-term distress is treated as a reason for ending a life, and when people in vulnerable situations are steered toward death instead of being offered proper support, the system fails. Disabled people, especially, are at risk of being overlooked and underserved.
This is not about questioning anyone's compassion. It is about whether the law can safely draw the line—and keep it. Real dignity is not guaranteed by legal access to assisted death.
It is guaranteed when people have access to quality care, social support, and a life worth living right to the end. The focus should be on fixing what is broken, not making death a fallback for those failed by the system.
When we talk about dignity, we must talk about life - about providing the support, services, and social structures that allow people to live with purpose and without fear of being abandoned or forgotten.
We urge our fellow MSPs: don't risk it. Don't risk sending the wrong message to disabled people, to the most vulnerable in our society. Don't risk creating a system where the right to die overtakes the right to live with support, care, and respect.
Scotland can do better than this. And we must.
We must choose a path that upholds the values we all hold dear - compassion, dignity, and respect - for everyone, no matter their age or ability. Our responsibility is to ensure that no one ever feels like they are better off dead than living in a society that supports them.
Scotland's future must be one where every life is worth living, and every person is given the chance to live with hope, dignity, and security. We can do better.
We must.
Pam Duncan-Glancy, Jeremy Balfour, and Emma Roddick are MSPs from across the political spectrum.