Lord Blencathra (Con)

My Lords, I had intended to give my strong support to Amendments 3, 45 to 49, 52 and 58—a mere eight amendments out of the 21 in this massive group—but in the interests of time I will dump my notes on all those and speak merely to Amendment 58 in the name of my friend, the noble Baroness, Lady Grey-Thompson, who has made a crucial point with regard to that amendment. Coercion and pressure do not always manifest themselves as direct, intentional acts by individuals. Instead, they can arise from broader and societal structures and conditions that constrain genuine choice. When a person facing terminal illness is subject to circumstances such as chronic poverty, social isolation or a systemic lack of quality healthcare, their options are severely limited. In such scenarios, the choice to pursue end-of-life options may not be a true expression of free will but rather the result of enduring disadvantage and unmet needs. At Second Reading, my noble friend Lord Moylan made the telling point that many people contemplating suicide do not want to die; they just want their life circumstances to change for the better. Therefore, “structural disadvantage” refers to the social, economic and institutional barriers that systematically disadvantage certain groups. When terminally ill individuals lack access to palliative care, social support or financial resources, they may feel compelled to consider end-of-life options not out of genuine preference but because their suffering is exacerbated by these systemic failures. Poverty is a profound social vulnerability. A terminally ill person living in poverty may fear becoming a burden to family or may lack the means to access pain relief, counselling or hospice care. The psychological and practical impact of poverty can create a sense of hopelessness, making the option of hastening death appear more acceptable or even inevitable. When systems persistently fail to address the needs of the most vulnerable, this neglect can be seen as a form of institutional or collective intent. Thus, the responsibility for coercion or pressure extends beyond individual actors to the structures that shape people’s lives and choices. Many years ago, my illustrious predecessor in my constituency, the great Willie Whitelaw, said to me, “David, I was never interested in pensions until I turned 65”. The wonderful thing about this House of ours is that the average age in here is 71, I understand, and our average death age is 81. That, as we have heard from many noble Peers, gives us a unique insight into the sorts of infirmities that we and our close relatives suffer and the close experience of those near to us who have died from them. We have heard from many noble Lords, including my noble friend Lord Polak and the noble Lord, Lord Griffiths, their experience of beating the odds because the prognosis was not right. I quoted in my Second Reading speech that Sir William Osler, the father of modern medicine, said, in about the 1890s: “Medicine is a science of uncertainty and an art of probability”. Because my noble friend Lady Berridge mentioned NICE, I am tempted to cite an example. I have experience of NICE. I am grateful to it in some ways and hate it in others. One of the side-effects of MS is that one’s feet feel nailed to the ground: they are as heavy as lead and do not move. Fifteen years ago, NICE approved an experimental drug call Fampridine. I was one of about 500 patients put on it at the National Hospital. Fampridine is an absolutely miraculous drug. What does it do? You saw it in effect this morning. It helped me stagger from my chair to here. With assistance from my noble friends, I can manage to walk—not very fast—to the Dispatch Box. Every six months, I have to do a walking test. If my walking is not fast enough with the drug, they cut it off and I do not get it any more.