Max Thompson is Campaigns Officer at the Free Speech Union and a former Conservative advisor.
Over the last two years, it is fair to say the Labour Government has failed to deliver the change that was promised in Labour’s loveless landslide.
The Starmer Government was ineffective and allowed militant progressive backbenchers to distract from the agenda and eat up precious Parliamentary time with amendments and bills that would allow someone to abort a baby effectively up to the point of birth and legalise assisted dying. These are two deeply un-conservative issues.
Now with Keir Starmer gone, we have seen a desperate and largely performative push from Andy Burnham to change tack. However, there was welcome news last week when the Prime Minister said during a press conference that he intends to work cross-party to address the social care crisis that has plagued successive governments. It is a dereliction of duty that Parliamentarians have avoided this issue and kicked the can down the road because it is too sensitive and difficult. But the most important thing the newly crowned Prime Minister said is that assisted dying should not be legalised until palliative care has been addressed.
Hoorah. A rare semblance of common sense from the Labour benches — albeit from one individual who was not elected in 2024 — and something that Conservatives should support.
In the last session of Parliament, we saw MPs and peers spend the best part of eighteen months trying to square the circle of Kim Leadbeater’s assisted dying Private Member’s Bill. Despite more Parliamentary time, debate, and scrutiny than any other Private Member’s Bill, it remained fundamentally and fatally flawed. Even the most zealous supporter of assisted dying, Lord Falconer, had to table over seventy amendments to this disgrace of a bill.
Sadly, Lauren Edwards MP sought to ignore the facts and sought infamy by reviving the Bill. Some Members of Parliament never have an opportunity to enact change in government as a minister, but every MP has the opportunity to propose a piece of legislation that could very well make it onto the statute book and change people’s lives for the better. Ms. Edwards chose not to.
The debate around assisted dying raised profound moral, legal, and societal questions. MPs and peers from across the political divide worked hard to improve legislation that would fundamentally alter the relationship between patient and medical professional, and between the state and the individual. Yet after eighteen months of debates, committees, and amendments, core questions remained unanswered. Shockingly, some MPs and Peers still thought it was more important to debate the principle of assisted dying as opposed to what this particular bill means in reality.
We still did not know how an assisted suicide service would actually operate in practice, which drugs would be permitted to end lives, or what the consequences would be — for either the individual or the doctor — should procedures fail. Parliament also opened a constitutional Pandora’s box, given that healthcare is devolved in Scotland and Wales.
If these matters could not be properly resolved after such prolonged scrutiny, why would we willingly choose to repeat the same flawed process?
Supporters of the Bill insist safeguards would prevent abuse. But safeguards on paper are no guarantee in practice. Pressure is rarely explicit. More often, it manifests as a feeling of being a burden, financial strain, unspoken family expectations, or fear of dependency. These are precisely the kinds of pressures no bureaucratic safeguarding system can reliably detect.
Those concerns are not abstract. Conditions such as eating disorders fundamentally distort a person’s perception of themselves and their worth. To pretend such vulnerabilities can be neatly separated from end-of-life decisions is implausible. Once the principle is conceded, the boundaries become increasingly difficult to hold.
Proponents dismiss concerns about a “slippery slope”, yet evidence from other jurisdictions shows the same pattern repeatedly emerging: eligibility expands, safeguards loosen, and the scope of the law widens far beyond what was originally promised.
That matters because those most at risk are invariably the most vulnerable — disabled people, those with learning difficulties, and those whose lives are too often judged, implicitly or explicitly, as less worth living. In several countries where assisted dying has been introduced, eligibility has gradually expanded to include those suffering solely from mental health conditions. Even with the best intentions, those societal biases cannot simply be legislated away.
Some of the most remarkable moments during the previous parliamentary session came when MPs and peers openly acknowledged the Bill was flawed yet still argued it should proceed regardless. That is not how Parliament should legislate on matters literally concerning life and death.
The Bill risks sending a profoundly troubling message: that some lives are less worth living, and that the role of the state may include facilitating death rather than improving care.
Before Parliament contemplates legislating for assisted dying again, it should first ensure everyone has equal access to high-quality palliative and social care. Otherwise, we risk presenting vulnerable people with a false choice — not between life and death, but between inadequate support and an early end.
For once, Andy Burnham is right.
Max Thompson is Campaigns Officer at the Free Speech Union and a former Conservative advisor.
Over the last two years, it is fair to say the Labour Government has failed to deliver the change that was promised in Labour’s loveless landslide.
The Starmer Government was ineffective and allowed militant progressive backbenchers to distract from the agenda and eat up precious Parliamentary time with amendments and bills that would allow someone to abort a baby effectively up to the point of birth and legalise assisted dying. These are two deeply un-conservative issues.
Now with Keir Starmer gone, we have seen a desperate and largely performative push from Andy Burnham to change tack. However, there was welcome news last week when the Prime Minister said during a press conference that he intends to work cross-party to address the social care crisis that has plagued successive governments. It is a dereliction of duty that Parliamentarians have avoided this issue and kicked the can down the road because it is too sensitive and difficult. But the most important thing the newly crowned Prime Minister said is that assisted dying should not be legalised until palliative care has been addressed.
Hoorah. A rare semblance of common sense from the Labour benches — albeit from one individual who was not elected in 2024 — and something that Conservatives should support.
In the last session of Parliament, we saw MPs and peers spend the best part of eighteen months trying to square the circle of Kim Leadbeater’s assisted dying Private Member’s Bill. Despite more Parliamentary time, debate, and scrutiny than any other Private Member’s Bill, it remained fundamentally and fatally flawed. Even the most zealous supporter of assisted dying, Lord Falconer, had to table over seventy amendments to this disgrace of a bill.
Sadly, Lauren Edwards MP sought to ignore the facts and sought infamy by reviving the Bill. Some Members of Parliament never have an opportunity to enact change in government as a minister, but every MP has the opportunity to propose a piece of legislation that could very well make it onto the statute book and change people’s lives for the better. Ms. Edwards chose not to.
The debate around assisted dying raised profound moral, legal, and societal questions. MPs and peers from across the political divide worked hard to improve legislation that would fundamentally alter the relationship between patient and medical professional, and between the state and the individual. Yet after eighteen months of debates, committees, and amendments, core questions remained unanswered. Shockingly, some MPs and Peers still thought it was more important to debate the principle of assisted dying as opposed to what this particular bill means in reality.
We still did not know how an assisted suicide service would actually operate in practice, which drugs would be permitted to end lives, or what the consequences would be — for either the individual or the doctor — should procedures fail. Parliament also opened a constitutional Pandora’s box, given that healthcare is devolved in Scotland and Wales.
If these matters could not be properly resolved after such prolonged scrutiny, why would we willingly choose to repeat the same flawed process?
Supporters of the Bill insist safeguards would prevent abuse. But safeguards on paper are no guarantee in practice. Pressure is rarely explicit. More often, it manifests as a feeling of being a burden, financial strain, unspoken family expectations, or fear of dependency. These are precisely the kinds of pressures no bureaucratic safeguarding system can reliably detect.
Those concerns are not abstract. Conditions such as eating disorders fundamentally distort a person’s perception of themselves and their worth. To pretend such vulnerabilities can be neatly separated from end-of-life decisions is implausible. Once the principle is conceded, the boundaries become increasingly difficult to hold.
Proponents dismiss concerns about a “slippery slope”, yet evidence from other jurisdictions shows the same pattern repeatedly emerging: eligibility expands, safeguards loosen, and the scope of the law widens far beyond what was originally promised.
That matters because those most at risk are invariably the most vulnerable — disabled people, those with learning difficulties, and those whose lives are too often judged, implicitly or explicitly, as less worth living. In several countries where assisted dying has been introduced, eligibility has gradually expanded to include those suffering solely from mental health conditions. Even with the best intentions, those societal biases cannot simply be legislated away.
Some of the most remarkable moments during the previous parliamentary session came when MPs and peers openly acknowledged the Bill was flawed yet still argued it should proceed regardless. That is not how Parliament should legislate on matters literally concerning life and death.
The Bill risks sending a profoundly troubling message: that some lives are less worth living, and that the role of the state may include facilitating death rather than improving care.
Before Parliament contemplates legislating for assisted dying again, it should first ensure everyone has equal access to high-quality palliative and social care. Otherwise, we risk presenting vulnerable people with a false choice — not between life and death, but between inadequate support and an early end.
For once, Andy Burnham is right.