This week, a friend asked me what the first defining moment of seeing disability portrayed on TV was for me – and it was something that brought back complicated feelings. In 2006, Honey Mitchell in Eastenders discovered that her baby had Down’s syndrome. The storyline, which could’ve focused on how hard it is to get support for disabled people, instead focused entirely on how awful this was for her, the non-disabled mother. The audience reaction was sympathetic to poor Honey’s plight, even when she fantasised about smothering her own baby.
At the time I was 17 and still trying to come to terms with life as a newly sick and disabled person. I’d been diagnosed with Lupus the previous November and at a time when I should be going out with my friends and getting stuck into college I was relying heavily on my family for support in every aspect of day-to-day life .I can’t tell you the horrendous effect of seeing the way a parent of a disabled child was portrayed affected me as I grew up.
That might seem like a random story to start a column on, but it’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about over the last week whilst monitoring the Assisted Dying Bill committee.
Killing sick kids now, are we?
Last week, the committee rejected an amendment that would stop people who feel like a burden from seeking assisted suicide. Just yesterday, they rejected another amendment that would stop it being offered to people under 18.
Meanwhile this week, the chancellor Rachel Reeves called young people who don’t work and are on benefits “a stain on this country”.
If you don’t see how these two things are connected, then I really don’t know what to tell you.
Oh wait. They want to kill disabled people too, still
But it’s not just young people that this would apply to; the burden amendments were to ensure that nobody could take their life if they felt like a burden to others, emotionally and financially.
Disabled people, due to the state of the care and welfare system, rely on loved ones a hell of a lot. While most of this is done because their nearest and dearest want to support them, there’s no denying it’s hard for everyone involved.
Disabled people may also struggle financially and need their families to help them out in that aspect much more.
This week, the committee also rejected amendments that would protect people with Down’s syndrome, learning disabilities, or Autistic people to ensure that they understand what they are agreeing to. They also rejected the requirement that there were no suicide risk factors before a doctor suggests that someone kill themselves.
The government make disabled people burdens
While the government is happy to allow people who feel like burdens to seek assisted suicide, it’s also contributing to making disabled people feel like burdens in the first place.
The constant rhetoric is around us being drains on society, taking money away from hardworking taxpayers, taking up space on NHS waiting lists, and not deserving of support – because how do we actually know who is really sick and who is just “taking the mickey”, to quote Liz Kendall.
The state of care and healthcare means disabled people can’t live independently or receive the care they need from professionals, meaning they have to rely on family and friends for support.
But there’s also the way that disabled and sick people are framed as burdens and the way their family, partners, and friends are viewed as saints or heroes for simply ensuring the people they love the most are supported.
And this narrative didn’t just happen by accident; it’s something that’s been nurtured alongside the lying scrounger message the media and government have spread to people for decades. Something they’re still spreading.
Sean Woodcock highlighted an important moment from the oral evidence sessions:
Although the Western Australian Government’s own statistics show that 35% of people opting for assisted dying cited being a burden as their reason for doing so, the practitioners who offer assisted dying to people were not aware of this fact. I had to clarify it for them.
Kim Leadbeater and co have repeatedly stated there will be safeguards in place to ensure nobody feels forced into assisted dying, but practitioners aren’t mind readers at the end of the day. And if you’re allowed to do it because you feel like a burden, what’s to stop your abuser from drilling it into you that you’re a burden? I know mine did.
Assisted suicide is not going to change anything
There was a popular social media trend a couple of weeks ago called “I met my younger self for coffee”, in which people described showing their younger selves who were going through the worst time how their life is now and offering them encouragement that it gets better.
I can’t help but wonder how many of my younger selves would’ve, through feeling like a burden or being pressured into thinking I’m one, chosen to end their life.
But it’s not just a hypothetical situation that could’ve happened to a younger, newly diagnosed me who was struggling to accept being disabled and felt like a burden to their family.
Up and down the country, disabled people of all ages feel like a burden to their family and friends, because society has led us to believe that anyone who needs support must be adding stress and pressure to the lives of those who love them.
Disabled people feeling like a burden isn’t going to change if they’re given the power to end their lives. It just means more disabled people will feel pressured to end their lives.
But perhaps that’s what Labour want.
They’ll probably present it at the next budget as X amount of millions saved from the welfare bill.
Featured image via the Canary
