Dr Marie Tidball

I will continue, if my hon. Friend does not mind. Clause 2(4) of the Bill before us today says: “For the avoidance of doubt, a person is not to be considered to be terminally ill only because they are a person with a disability or mental disorder (or both).” As a member of the previous Bill Committee, I worked for over 90 hours to ensure that all the changes that I requested were made, and they are now on the face of the Bill brought forward by my hon. Friend the Member for Rochester and Strood (Lauren Edwards). My amendments, including two new clauses, were unanimously supported by that Committee. The first, clause 48, establishes a disability advisory board made up of disabled people and our organisations in order to embed a long-term and iterative structure in law to report on the Bill’s implementation and its impact on disabled people. The second, clause 22, sets out provisions to put in place independent advocates for people with autism and mental health conditions, enabling them to effectively understand their options around end-of-life care. Further, I ensured that clause 8 provides for specific, up-to-date training for registered practitioners on reasonable adjustments and safeguards for autistic people and people with learning disabilities. I also secured an expanded duty in clause 28 to collect additional information about whether, immediately before death, the person seeking assistance has a disability—as defined under section 6 of the Equality Act 2010—other than a disability amounting to terminal illness, as defined in this Bill. Together, these measures create a solid foundation to enable disabled people to have a strong voice when advocating for themselves about their choices on end-of-life care and, importantly, to have a seat at the table so that they can scrutinise and monitor the implementation of this Bill. Spending nearly two years thinking about death in relation to this Bill has been life-changing for me, because the thing about considering choice in death, understanding what dignity in dying involves and what living a good death really means, is that it makes you think deeply about the meaning of living a good life, too: to love ferociously and to live passionately, experiencing every single moment as if suspended like a vignette woven from “Charlotte’s Web”. As E. B. White’s eponymous character points out: “After all, what’s a life, anyway? We’re born, we live a little while, we die.” Each of these stages of human life requires us to treat ourselves and fellow humans with dignity and to value ourselves, to enable us to feel and to perceive our own worth. This Bill not only anchors that dignity at the final stage but, in doing so, compels us to embed dignity in each and every other stage of our lives as well. This Bill lays a counterweight alongside the Government’s plans to improve the quality of and access to palliative care, to drive urgent reform on social care, and to build a new system that gives people the dignity, security and support they deserve. Driving quality in these areas together can and must be done contemporaneously. My friend, the incredible assisted dying campaigner Nathaniel Dye, passed away this year. He squeezed every single drop of joy out of life and taught me so much about why living a good death matters. In setting the bar high for dignity in death, we set the bar even higher for dignity in life.