I like politics. The cut and thrust of debate, the carnival-like sideshow of elections, even the often-dry policy sessions—they all fascinate me. It doesn’t matter if the issue du jour affects me directly or not, I still follow along. Of course, being a disabled Canadian, I pay especial attention on those rare occasions where the government is arguing over something important to the crippled community. And right now, nothing can match the MAID controversy.

M.A.I.D is the innocuous acronym for government-approved suicide. It stands for Medical Assistance In Dying and, though I applauded its passing initially—criminalizing death seemed a futile exercise—a lot of people are expressing serious concerns over the law’s application. 

Suicide is seldom a good choice but, for the able-bodied at least, it was always a choice. People with serious disabilities, however, found themselves denied the option of ending their lives on their terms. Let me state, clearly, I am not advocating for suicide. Merely arguing that it only seems fair to provide that right to everyone equally. Speaking as a disabled person, I find it comforting to know the choice is now open to me.

Living in North America means, for better or worse, living in a predominantly Christian environment. It doesn’t matter your particular faith; Christianity has long dominated Western culture. Our nation was founded by Europeans, almost all Christians, and their ethos permeates daily life still. Long-standing attitudes toward moral issues change slowly. Politicians tend to placate their base, keeping ‘your’ people happy is vital to winning elections, and that means following traditions. But attitudes do, in fact, evolve. Homosexuality was once a crime. Now gay marriage is commonplace. Growing or possessing cannabis used to be illegal. Now it’s a multi-billion-dollar source of tax revenue with storefronts seemingly everywhere. Suicide is no different. Once disdained as an unforgiveable sin—many cemeteries refused to bury suicides on consecrated ground—it is, slowly, becoming less toxic.

Like many of the government’s more promising-sounding ideas MAID is not without its flaws. Putting the policy into practice has revealed some glaring shortcomings. Marginalized Canadians—the disabled, the homeless, and those suffering from mental health issues—are facing inordinate pressure to avail themselves of this cost-saving option. One former Paralympian found herself on the receiving end of such a failure upon asking the government for some help to build a ramp. Imagine querying about funding for accessibility and being told, “Have you considered killing yourself?” That must have been a shock.

Such was exactly what many feared would happen, that citizens deemed ‘unproductive’ would be labelled disposable. What better way to save the hard-working taxpayer money than to permanently remove the so-called ‘takers’ from the government dole?

Living with a disability isn’t easy. The pressures can be immense. Mental and physical exhaustion are common. Financial issues are a constant daily concern. And there’s the never-ending feeling, real or imagined, of being a burden on friends and family. Chronic illnesses wear you down. So much so that, when some faceless government bureaucrat presents you with an out—be it a slick suicide brochure or a professionally produced video encouraging a ‘peaceful and painless end’—it doesn’t seem quite so appalling.

I’m a strong-minded man. Stubbornness forms a central pillar of my personality. The idea of someone convincing me to commit suicide against my best interests is laughable. But not all Canadians are like me. If even one person is pushed—even a hair—toward this sad choice, then we as a society have failed.

What can be done? Should the whole notion of medically-assisted dying be scrapped? I would argue, no. The idea still has merit. There needs to be safeguards in place. Protocols on how to present MAID and strict limits on who qualifies. That last was supposed to be the program’s core tenant, that only people with incurable life-altering illnesses be considered. And even then, they needed to argue the ‘need’ to commit suicide to a panel of impartial experts.

Just because we can legally assist someone to end their lives doesn’t mean we should. But the opposite is true too. Not every person wants to live. Quality of life becomes the deciding factor. Unfortunately, most of us can’t even agree on a definition for the term. Far too many people would argue that I, as a disabled man, have a lesser quality of life. Let me state for the record that I’m doing fine. Sure, I face my share of challenges but I also enjoy more than my share of happiness. Luckily for me I am capable of expressing my wishes and batting down any foolish suggestions. What about an Alzheimer’s sufferer? Can anyone looking in on them honestly quantify their quality of life?

It boils down to one question: Who has the right to decide who lives and who dies?

Ultimately, in Canada, the government decides. Our elected officials choose the metrics used and set the laws we all have to follow. How much of the process, many skeptics wonder, is focussed on economic efficiencies? Government bureaucracies aren’t known for their humanity. Where do factors like physical disability or mental acuity sit on this scale? Transparency, that all-too-popular political buzzword, is needed. 

Yes, there are problems with Canada’s assisted-dying laws. But I would argue most of these are moral issues. And in a country as big and diverse as ours we’re never going to achieve 100% agreement on something as personal as morality. Many would claim that it is never acceptable for a medical professional to end a life—not even when the patient themselves begs for that help. Life is, after all, precious. Or so MAID’s detractors would argue—conveniently ignoring how callously far too many of us treat those lives. Ultimately Canadians will decide this issue at the ballot box.

In the end, everyone’s death is their own. If, in due course, a citizen wants to avail themselves of medical assistance in dying then our health care system ought to offer it. Just with a few strings. Death should never be a mere button-push away. Neither, though, should it be entirely out of reach for any Canadian. No doubt there will always be some horrendous failures associated with the MAID program. The media will glom onto these and opponents to suicide will tout each and every failure as proof positive that they were right. It will be much harder to present MAID’s successes. Holding up a dead cripple as example probably won’t help, not even if that person went through layers of red tape and suffered horribly while alive.

It’s easy to forget, in all the hand-wringing and moralistic finger-pointing, that lives hang in the balance. Whether disabled, homeless, or suffering mental health issues, each of us deserves fair treatment and doctors have been quietly providing this, the final service, to patients for millennia…just without any fanfare. Making something legal doesn’t make it right. It does free us to discuss the issue in public. And that is where our current government is failing: It needs to start a nationwide discourse on medically-assisted dying. Canadians should, in truth, have been having a debate on this subject for years but controversial topics—like medical assistance in dying—tend to frighten the life out of politicians.

Choose life, choose death, choose neither…just so long as it is an informed choice. One taken without outside pressure. If we, as a society, can get to the point in the debate where each individual is free to decide for themselves then all will be well and we can get back to talking about the weather.