The death debate
Dr Justin Oakley
Associate Professor Justin Oakley
Watching Gerald draw his last breath on Channel Nine’s Inside the Human Body last week, I was filled with admiration for this man in allowing his death to be recorded for a wider audience. For a program aiming to educate us about the inner workings of our bodies, the manner in which it depicted Gerald’s death was very moving.
Gerald seemed to face his own death with courage, but he also came across as somewhat matter of fact about his demise – while seeing each day as a blessing, he seemed to have accepted that his advanced terminal cancer meant the end was near.
Death and dying are indeed very intimate matters, but screening the last moments in the life of a person who has genuinely consented to it need not be considered wrong. Giving birth and getting married are also intimate events, but we do not think it unethical for them to be recorded for television where the parties involved have consented (though consent obviously cannot be obtained from a newborn baby). Likewise, people’s sex lives are very personal, but when couples are shown on a program such as Sex After Marriage willingly discussing problems with the sexual aspects of their relationships, we can appreciate its educative value.
Another important ethical consideration here is how such intimate subjects are presented by the directors and broadcasters. Gerald seemed to die a peaceful death with his family by his side, and this was handled very sensitively in the program. It was illuminating to see a person dying in this way, rather than relying only on what we might imagine dying to be like, as many of us are left to do in our somewhat death-denying culture.
Of course, it would be naïve to think that education was the only motivation for a commercial TV station to screen such a program, particularly given its prime time scheduling. Nevertheless, showing Gerald quietly passing away was a good counterpoint to the sorts of violent deaths commonly seen in the media.
It also served as a reminder of the importance of focusing on the person concerned, and of thinking about whether death can be good to the person who dies – which is the literal meaning of the ancient Greek term ‘euthanasia’.
Melbourne lawyer Alan Rosendorff spoke last week of his frustration at being denied the choice of voluntary euthanasia. He simply wishes to ease the fears that arise from the prospect of a slow and painful death from the cancer now attacking his stomach and lungs. But rather than listening carefully to the pleas of people in such circumstances, those opposed to legalising voluntary euthanasia often invoke generalisations. They talk about society being uncaring and the need for more palliative care, and seem to assume there must be something else going on in such cases – such as treatable depression.
If witnessing Gerald’s death teaches us anything, it should be that such debates must probe deeper than this, as well as the need to acknowledge the particular circumstances surrounding each person’s death. We already recognise that births can differ significantly from each other, in ways that make giving birth something that is difficult to fully prepare for. This is part of what we mean by calling it a “personal” experience. It is time we took the same attitude to death and dying.