The Slippery Slope Isn't a Fallacy—It's a Warning
The Assisted Dying Bill currently before Parliament represents one of the most profound expansions of state power in modern British history. Dressed in the language of compassion and individual choice, it would grant government-appointed doctors the legal authority to facilitate the deaths of British citizens. What could possibly go wrong?
The evidence from countries that have already travelled this path provides a sobering answer. In Canada, where Medical Assistance in Dying (MAiD) was introduced in 2016 for terminally ill patients, the programme has expanded relentlessly. By 2022, over 13,000 Canadians were euthanised—including individuals whose primary condition was poverty, homelessness, or hearing loss. Veterans seeking treatment for PTSD were offered state-sponsored death instead of therapy. The disabled have reported feeling pressured to choose MAiD rather than burden an overstretched healthcare system.
From Terminal Illness to Social Inconvenience
This mission creep wasn't an accident—it was inevitable. Once society accepts the principle that some lives are worth ending, the criteria for eligibility will inevitably expand. The Netherlands, which legalised euthanasia in 2002, now permits it for mental illness, dementia, and even 'completed life'—a euphemism for elderly people who are simply tired of living.
The Groningen Protocol allows Dutch doctors to euthanise disabled newborns. In Belgium, children as young as 12 can request assisted dying. What began as a narrow exception for terminal suffering has become a broad social policy for eliminating inconvenient lives.
The NHS Reality Check
Proponents of the bill argue that robust safeguards will prevent abuse. They point to the requirement for two doctors to approve each case, a waiting period, and judicial oversight. These protections sound reassuring until you consider the reality of modern Britain.
Our NHS is collapsing under demand, with record waiting lists and chronic staff shortages. Mental health services are rationed. Social care is underfunded. In this context, assisted dying isn't just a medical option—it becomes an economic necessity. Why spend £3,000 per week keeping someone in palliative care when a lethal injection costs £50?
The pressure won't be explicit. It will be systemic. Elderly patients will see their families bankrupted by care costs. Disabled people will witness cuts to support services. The chronically ill will endure months-long waits for treatment. In such circumstances, the 'choice' to die becomes coercive.
The Conservative Alternative
The conservative response to end-of-life suffering isn't to offer death as a solution—it's to make living bearable. Britain once led the world in palliative care, pioneered by Dame Cicely Saunders at St Christopher's Hospice. We should be investing in world-class pain management, hospice care, and support for families caring for dying relatives.
Instead, hospice funding has been slashed. Only 34% of people who need specialist palliative care receive it. Many die in pain because we've underfunded the compassionate alternative to assisted dying. This isn't about money—it's about priorities. We find billions for foreign aid and net zero initiatives but plead poverty when it comes to dignified end-of-life care.
The Disabled Community's Warning
Perhaps most tellingly, disability rights groups overwhelmingly oppose assisted dying. They understand what politicians refuse to acknowledge: that legalising assisted suicide sends a clear message about which lives society values. The implicit assumption becomes that disability, chronic illness, and dependency are fates worse than death.
This isn't theoretical. In Oregon, where assisted dying has been legal since 1997, the most commonly cited reason for choosing death isn't pain—it's loss of autonomy and dignity. But who defines dignity? In a society that views independence as the highest virtue, those who require care inevitably feel like burdens.
Parliamentary Sleepwalking
The current bill will likely pass its second reading, propelled by emotional testimony and media campaigns that frame opposition as cruelty. MPs who wouldn't trust the state to deliver the post on time are preparing to grant it power over life and death. They're ignoring warnings from medical professionals, disability advocates, and international evidence in favour of abstract principles about autonomy.
This represents a fundamental misunderstanding of conservative philosophy. True conservatism recognises that individual choice operates within social constraints. The choice to die doesn't exist in isolation—it's shaped by family pressure, financial stress, social attitudes, and state policy. Creating a legal framework for assisted dying inevitably influences these choices.
Beyond the Point of No Return
Once this bill becomes law, there will be no going back. The logic of assisted dying is inherently expansionary. Every restriction will be challenged as discriminatory. Every safeguard will be dismissed as paternalistic. The slope isn't just slippery—it's vertical.
Conservatives believe in protecting the vulnerable, not creating new categories of acceptable victims. We believe in human dignity rooted in inherent worth, not contingent on productivity or autonomy. We believe the state's role is to preserve life, not to facilitate its ending.
The Assisted Dying Bill isn't about compassion—it's about power, and the British state has already proven it can't be trusted with far less consequential responsibilities.
