What Assisted Suicide and Abortion Have in Common
Age and weather took the golden fleece from the trees; the scarlet tinsel is scattered. The arboreal vesture which had burst into flaming yellow and orange a few weeks ago now lies rusted on the lawn, piled up in the ravine. A scene of leaves, enchanted by some spell of nature, darting and dancing in the street, accompanies my daily commute. The hopeless poet views the landscape thus. It is a thing of beauty and, perhaps, of melancholy.
During the holiday season we recognize all we are grateful for. A thankful person recognizes their blessings and sees the goodness of life, not just the negative. Gratitude is great for one’s mental health and, by contributing to making a person happier, makes the people around that person happier too. We all have that great experience in common – life. People should be grateful for the simple gift of life; it would make a happier world.
Nature is full of wonders. Fall brings on a drastic transformation in the Midwest. If the change seems melancholic, it is because it presents us with an image evocative of death and decay. But that is not the end for the trees. The leaves compost and become the foundation of the future. The trees themselves are resurrected the following spring.
Trees can be telling that way. The sapling is not meant to be cut down and replaced with brick and mortar simply because it stands in the way of developing a new condominium, because its presence is inconvenient. It is supposed to sprout leaves in its maturity and release them when the time is right, to run its course and contribute to the life chain of the forest.
We glimpse something of this mentality in The Lorax by Theodor Seuss Geisel, whose title character speaks for the trees (in danger of being destroyed and exploited) since they have no tongues of their own. E.B. White, in Charlotte’s Web, makes us consider the value of life when Fern refuses to let Wilbur be turned into bacon. The best of children’s literature allows even us adults to see the best in humanity.
In spite of the world’s beauty, the simplicity of youth, or the wisdom of age, human life is plagued by death. I, for one, don’t think death is the end just as I don’t think autumn is the end for the trees. Yet, death is a reality we all face. But some hasten toward it or shove others into the grave to be rid of them, their headstones paving a way to the mountaintop of some egotistical goal. A goal perhaps as mundane as ease and convenience.
Our society places a premium on individuality. It’s good up to a point – the point at which I think myself more important than the next person. When I am the most important thing in my sphere of influence, I no longer treat my fellow human beings as equals. Autonomy and individual liberty are laudable until a person attacks the well-being and liberty of another individual.
The idea that the individual’s desires are the most important goal, as opposed to the common good, permeates our thinking. When others are talking, we have short attention spans. When people cause us a minor inconvenience or lead to us overexerting ourselves, we have short tempers. The fuse that modern society has grows shorter by the day; we get more volatile. Just think of the traffic jam in which we yell at others from the enclosure of our car or navigating the highway without so much as a thought for the human person behind the wheel of each vehicle we pass. Obstacles. And they need to get out of our way so we can get to where we want to go. That’s the mentality of modernity.
So, when a mother finds herself unexpectedly pregnant, she might face fear for her safety or future, opposition, threats, any number of variables. Then, too often, the unborn child is deemed a hassle, another obstacle that should be cut down.
Abortion was a big issue taken into account during the 2024 presidential election. Harris was all for it. Trump, a speaker at the March for Life in D.C. in 2020, ran on more of a pro-choice platform compared to his prior one. His agenda opposes late-term abortion. Yet, Trump flip-flopped regarding his personal stance on the abortion amendment proposed on the ballot in Florida, where he lives. Though he initially thought the current law too strict in reducing abortion access, backlash from his own political camp prompted him to change his mind and say he would vote “no” to the amendment.
In my home state of Illinois, the idea of medical aid in dying (MAID), sometimes called “a right to die,” is in vogue and will likely be voted on this coming year. Despite its intended use to be limited to terminal patients, there is something deeply, inherently wrong with the nature of such “mercy killings.” Suicide in any other light is an occasion for horror mingled with sorrow, but if someone assists with it…well, that’s a different matter. That makes it all right.
In an atmosphere of such upstanding politics and sacrificial selflessness, there is little wonder why the rights of the weak are being trampled. The so-called rights to abortion and assisted suicide (both available in easy-to-use pill form) force us to grapple with the hard realities of life and death.
Fear, utility, and discrimination – all of them far too real – could confront an expecting mom. Many employers are prejudiced against pregnant and parenting moms in the workforce. Rape and incest do happen, and these are nightmares that linger. But another heinous action, the taking of innocent life, does not remedy a previous heinous action.
Assisted suicide – very often like abortion – is presented as a solution to a struggle within society. Unfortunately, those who contemplate assisted suicide might see themselves as burdens to their family. Worse still, as has been the case in some lax countries such as Canada, patients who suffer from mental illness or a severe lack of housing and income are given the opportunity to expedite their lives. Recent data from the Office of the Chief Coroner of Ontario shed light on the fact that “when facilitated suicide is expanded to those with disabilities who have decades left to live, it is impossible to filter out suffering due to poverty, loneliness and other marginalization fueling MAiD requests.”
Reports show people with eating disorders have fallen prey to “physician-assisted dying.” Advocacy groups voice concern for the most vulnerable in society: the elderly, those with mental illness, and those suffering from suicidal ideation. The answer for someone contemplating suicide should not be suicide! One of these organizations, the Australian Care Alliance, posits that legalizing assisted suicide “is not progressive, but [is] a regression to a poorer standard of medicine, focused on quick solutions and convenience.”
Whether it is palliative care for those nearing the end of their life on earth, support for the impoverished, or therapeutic opportunities for those who think themselves bothersome – the fixes our society needs come with effort, not convenience. This goes for abortion as well as for assisted suicide. There is work to be done in our policies and our attitudes. The problem is never the person. The problem is viewing the person as the problem.
Bill Maher says (“sort of”) and that he is fine with that. At least he is honest. Assisted suicide is likewise, as any observer can see, the taking of a human life before its time. Taking life in these ways dismisses the integral dignity of being human. At its core, this problem deals not with when life begins or how it should end but with when life has value.
As my wife says, it’s a question of, When does life have value? When is love or suffering worthwhile? When does the person beside me have value? Once we put conditions on that value (regarding color, race, creed, job status, income, mental acuity, development, age, autonomy, pleasure derived from their company, or any external factors), we know that we think less of our fellow persons. In short, we have undersold their humanity.
To use the stereotypical jargon, our children are our future; they are the foundation of that future. Our elders are our mothers and fathers; they made sacrifices for us, and it’s our turn to make sacrifices for them.
No matter their age, I can learn from others. When my cousin’s three-year-old son brought a cookie to his older brother for no other reason than the fact that he could, I remembered I can be generous like that kid. On our honeymoon, my wife eagerly wanted to find an intact sand dollar. We were unsuccessful, but a girl and her dad, who were on the outing with us and who had found two whole sand dollars, gifted us one of them. They didn’t have to do that. But they did, and restored my faith in human kindness along with it. A woman in an assisted living home can spoil her grandkids or become overjoyed at the energetic children running into an ice cream shop. She teaches me to let their joy run into my life and reminds me to crack a smile.
I hope my children get to be a part of the America of tomorrow. I hope my children will have friends their age to grow and learn with. I’d like them to see the red and golden leaves fall from the trees and sit down at Thanksgiving and share why they are happy to be alive.