Ali's Blog
About
Entries
Chat
Kool Webpages
Guestbook
Kool Books
Truth Table
Contact
Consent is antecedent to inception; one cannot consent first and then be born. But once born, does one have the liberty to opt-out of life?
I have come to find that the response is an unwavering ‘no’. Bar exceedingly rare circumstances, contemporary society permits no individual the dignity of self-determined death. Our vehemently pro-life culture—still rooted in theological presumptions concerning life and death—ventures even further. Suicide is deemed the paramount offense, with all conceivable methods of undertaking it rigorously suppressed and rendered practically unattainable. Life, conversely, is regarded as intrinsically valuable and an end unto itself, necessitating neither justification nor elucidation.
Dostoevsky’s Raskolnikov summarises this stance in one passage, saying that he would rather
live on some high rock, on such a narrow ledge that he’d only have room to stand, and the ocean, everlasting darkness, everlasting solitude, everlasting tempest around him, if he had to remain standing on a square yard of space all his life, a thousand years, eternity, it were better to live so than to die at once! Only to live, to live and live! Life, whatever it may be!
Hence, when one buys into this line of thinking, the renunciation of this gift only starts to make sense if it is attributed to irrationality.
But what constitutes irrationality? If, upon intense introspection, I conclude that my desire is to stop living, I establish that goal, and subsequently achieve it, have I, in any respect, acted irrationally?
Rationality is fundamentally a normative concept, concerned with answering the question: "What should guide my actions and beliefs?" I have previously argued against the idea that there are universal prescriptive norms that intrinsically guide actions or beliefs—norms that provide "reasons" for acting or believing in something regardless of one's personal goals and desires.
As such, rationality is anchored on an indivudal's goals and desires. It is irreducibly goal-oritented. An irrational act constitutes an intentional action that’s performed by an agent which is inconsistent with the agent’s own higher-order (or all-things-considered) goals.
If you establish a goal, denoted as "X," then it is rational to take an action, φ, if and only if executing φ brings about X. For instance, if my goal is to gain weight, then consuming five cones of ice cream would be a rational action. This contrasts with the common construal of rationality as some kind of truth-tracking faculty, with the further premises that truth corresponds to reality and that reality has an intrinsic nature which gives us external reasons for acting thus rather than so.
Consequently, if an individual's aim is to end their life, and they employ suitable means to achieve this end, their action is rational within the context of their goals. It is therefore nonsensical to hold that such an action is an irrational action, given that the agent attempts a method that is intended to succeed with respect to carrying out their goals. Labeling such an action as "irrational" typically involves smuggling in one's own goals and desires onto the meaning of what is considered rational.
However, one potential avenue for arguing that suicide is irrational involves demonstrating its misalignment with the suicidal individual's higher-order goals. A pro-life advocate might argue that the person contemplating suicide lacks real-time introspective access to these 'higher-order' goals. This could be demonstrated by pointing out that the act is carried out impulsively, during a heightened emotional state, or under the influence of substances that alter cognition—situations that can be identified where the acting agent is not reflective of their own long-term goals. In such cases, invoking my concept of rationality becomes relevant.
The burden of proof falls on the pro-life advocate, who must demonstrate that we should not take the suicidal individual's self-reporting at face value. Specifically, they must show that the person lacks sufficient introspective access of their goals. Nevertheless, considering that not all suicides are qualitatively identical, it follows that the pro-life proponent upholding such a view cannot assert that suicide is categorically irrational. Rather, they can only claim that it is irrational when an agent lacks introspective access to their goals, nd it's up to the pro-life advocate to demonstrate this.
It's worth exploring further the notion of 'higher-order' goals, especially when considering a suicidal person's potential future non-suicidal self. Firstly, it's not immediately clear why a future mental state should take precedence over a current transient one. Noted philosopher Derek Parfit has argued that if an individual feels little connection to their future selves, actions that neglect those future selves may be rational (for example, drug use or smoking). Secondly, it is certainly not clear why we should assume a continuous identity over time. Those arguing for the priority of a 'future self' must also delineate the conditions that make this future self a continuous extension of the present one.
Moreover, it remains uncertain how proponents of this perspective would address the question of how we may go about determining whether an individual possesses adequate introspective access to their own goals. Nor is it certain how propnents would determine how long a 'temporary' mental state must last to be considered non-genuine, merely transient. This is complicated by the fact that the idea of an 'authentic' self is far from static; it constantly undergoes alteration due to various social, psychological, and environmental influences.
It is also entirely plausible that the phenomenology prompting pro-life supporters to intuit life as being an inviolable value is an idiosyncratic attribute of their culture, upbringing, or individual psychology, instead of it being an attribute of some notion of an Intrinsic ‘human nature’ which all humans by necessity share. For instance, individuals raised in societies influenced by Christian or other monotheistic religions are likely predisposed to such a view, as opposed to those raised in Japan.
Lastly, without diving into the contentious debate surrounding 'introspection,' it's worth noting that introspection is considered by many, including behaviorists and cognitive functionalists, to be an unreliable tool for understanding unconscious psychological processes. Navigating these complex questions is essential to begin constructing a case that argues for suicide as irrational simpliciter, as opposed to it being irrational with respect to a hypothetical desire or goal.
A rhetorical move that pro-lifers like to use is to invoke a notion of what is considered “natural”, and then claim that the suicidal pro-choicer is misperceiving it.
One way to interpret what is meant by ‘natrual' in this context is the idea of stance independence, where the value of life is taken to be indepndent of anyone's stances; something along the lines of "in accordance with nature" or "as things are meant to be". However, I won't delve into the flaws of moral realism, a subject I've exhaustively discussed elsewhere. Let us instead consider a stance-dependent interpretation.
In this view, the value of life being invoked refers to a collective, historically-conditioned understanding about life's value, which is intersubjectively shared among humans. In many societies, there exists a broad intersubjective agreement that life is an inviolable value. This particular frame of reference is what pro-lifers are appealing to when they use the term "natural."
Pro-life advocates often fail to recognise the equivocation they commit when claiming that what is 'unnatural' simply means being disconnected from a frame of reference that pro-choice individuals simply do not share. It would be best to make explicit this rhetorical trick: that the suicidal person’s desire to die is simply incongruent with the pro-lifer’s stances on the value of life, and is not in some way incongruent with what is natural.
This ambiguity serves a perfidious rhetorical value for pro-lifers given that invoking the word ‘natural’ presupposes a largely agreed upon intersubjective framework about the inviolable value of life over personal liberty. But intersubjective agreement is not stance-independence, nor is it ‘natural’; so let’s stop calling it that. Presented in this disambiguated manner reveals how silly the assertion is and the assumptions it hides behind. Thus, when the pro-life advocate appeals to "rationality", "nature" or "reality," one possible interpretation is that they are invoking a presumed intersubjective standard (shared by a large number of audiences) that the pro-choice individual does not subscribe to, and rhetorically labeling that standard as the only "natural", "real" or "rational" one.
Another interpretation of the pro-life advocate's invocation of neing 'out of tocuh' with what is "natural" might be a metaphorical one, suggesting that the suicidal pro-choice individual is temporarily out of touch with their own higher-order standards and goals. I suspect this may be the common intention behind the assertion, and I will discuss its paternalistic implications further below. However, in this case, as with rationality, the pro-lifer must demonstrate that the "future self's" goals are contradictory to the currently 'out of touch' self's goals. Setting aside whether the concept of a "future self" is even intelligible or whether individuals can generally have inaccurate introspective access to their own goals and desires, this objection does not undermine the case of a suicidal person who intentionally wishes to die, i.e., a suicidal person acting in a "non-impulsive" state.
Often, to argue that even a lucid, resolute suicidal pro-choice individual is wrong about their desire for suicide, proponents do end up turning to moral realism. They assert that an objective, stance-independent evaluation exists and that this evaluation (that life is inviolably valuable) contradicts the individual's wish to die. According to this line of argument, one of the two—either the individual's desire or the objective evaluation—must be in error, and they assert that the objective evaluation cannot be in error because it is, by definition, objective.
It's also worth considering the circumstances of "impulsive" suicides. Many are carried out because individuals feel compelled to act in the absence of knowledge about less violent or painful alternatives. The question of whether intervention is genuinely the better option—given current practices that can be violent or abusive toward suicidal individuals—is far from settled. Moreover, is it desirable to have a system that scrutinises (or gatekeeps) each person's self-reporting and bodily autonomy to decide who should or should not receive support for opting out of life? This line of questioning can lead to a slippery slope. On the other hand, applying the principle of caveat emptor ("buyer beware") could offer a less paternalistic and more autonomy-respecting approach to this deeply contentious issue.
Pro-choice advocates often find it unnecessary to offer justifications for wanting to end their own lives beyond a pro tanto basis. They would rather argue based on shared intersubjective standards related to liberty and bodily autonomy. In response, they find it puzzling that the whole stock of notions which inform the ethics of liberal and socialist trades—of reification, degradation, exploitation, consent, bodily autonomy, unconstrained (‘free’) will, not using other humans as ends—which stem from the concept of liberty are, in this one issue, easily abjured.
They force the the most ardent advocates of preserving life to concede that, at its core, human existence is characterised by a perpetual cycle of discomforts and struggles. With each passing hour, they point out, we are subjected to hunger, thirst, ennui, and a litany of bodily needs; we confront banal bureaucracies, endure traffic, and experience the perpetual fluctuation of temperature. We grapple with the inevitable cycles of illness, the frustrations of relationships, the pursuit of career aspirations, and the inexorable march of time that leaves us enfeebled. Yet, they are loath to echo Mark Twain's contention when he wrote that
Life was not a valuable gift, but death was. Life was a fever-dream made up of joys embittered by sorrows, pleasure poisoned by pain; a dream that was a nightmare-confusion of spasmodic and fleeting delights, ecstasies, exultations, happinesses, interspersed with long-drawn miseries, griefs, perils, horrors, disappointments, defeats, humiliations, and despairs -- the heaviest curses devisable by divine ingenuity.
The legal landscape further tightens the noose, so to speak, around the options available to those considering suicide. This solemn interpreation on the value of life is not only overwhelmingly marginalised, but to suggest that perhaps opting out of all these discomforts is a completely rational choice is now in the process of being made illegal. Our anti-choice legislators’ credo is ‘if you wish to die, you either do it painfully or be condemned to live’. This credo has most recently been exemplified in the proposed ‘Stop Online Suicide Assistance Act 2022’ which “imposes criminal penalties—a fine, a prison term of up to five years, or both—for an offense results in death”. The methods of painless or semi-painless suicide must be kept secret at all cost, as if hiding the methods also relinquishes one from the desire, rather that killing them more painfully instead. While wanting to die is irrational for most of the world’s population, some of us need it coded into law that this is so.
Our discourse around suicide is overwhelmingly bifurcated, either framing it as a criminal act or pathologizing it as symptomatic of mental illness. In either case, the individual expressing a desire to die is almost immediately marginalised—either deemed mentally unfit, hastily straightjacketed, institutionalised, and medicalised, or criminalised, chained and penalised. Why is it unimaginable for someone to simply not want to live anymore without being labeled as either insane or criminal?
The irony of our legislative systems cannot be overstated. The very states that maintain the right to end an individual's life—through capital punishment, for example—deprive individuals of the agency to make that decision for themselves. It's a disconcerting implication: The ultimate authority over your life and personhood doesn't rest with you, but with a state or a collective societal opinion.
Existence, after all, is not an inherent good to everyone; it's a condition imposed on us without our consent and will inevitably be taken away. It was never a given. Vladimir Nabokov's insight that life is "but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness" and that "although the two are identical twins, man, as a rule, views the prenatal abyss with more calm than the one he is heading for" articulates a reality many would rather not confront: that existence itself is transitory and not inherently more valuable than non-existence. Some of us feel entitled to the course of our own lives and bodies, to make our own graceful, dignified exit instead of leaving our bodies to slowly disintegrate to the whims of old age and disease.
The tragedy deepens for those unfortunate few who want to die but cannot find a way to do so. Far from it being a brief, momentary desire, it's a profound yearning frustrated every moment they continue to exist, often worsened by the judgments and interventions of those who assume they know better.
When one searches for "most painless suicide methods," the results often diverge into patronising assumptions about one's fragile mental state and the perceived need for salvation. The typical Google response prompts helpline numbers and messages suggesting that you don't really want to end your life; that somehow your rational faculties have failed you and a voice on the other end of a phone line will help you see the error of your ways.
‘Help is available. Speak to someone. Call our support line’.
This approach to suicide prevention is predicated on paternalism; it assumes that the individual does not know what they actually want or need, and that 'help' must be imposed on them; that individuals must be saved from their pathological, irrational, criminal current selves, and that their more rational "future selves" would surely one day appreciate such help. It is infantalising and humiliating. In its most sickening forms, this approach manifests in the forcible detention of suicidal persons in psychiatric wards, where the suicidal person is abused, abducted and drugged. The legislators, the suicidal persons’ family and friends, and the overseers of the ward pat themselves in the back for a good day’s work in violently forcing the suicidal person into submission and are convinced that this is all worth it because after all, it is saving a life!
The troubling subtext here is the devaluation of individual autonomy in favor of a condescending ‘we-know-better’ attitude. Throughout this entire process, the desires of the suicidal individual for bodily autonomy are consistently ignored. Under such a paradigm, life is not something one can opt out of; it is mandated, an obligation enforced by society's collective judgment. If a person cannot make an informed decision about their own body and life, it cannot be said that they possess ownership over their body and life. Decisions about one's existence are outsourced to legislators, family, and friends whose opinions apparently hold more weight than the person most intimately concerned. ‘A paternalist government’, says Kant, ‘as ungrown-up children […] is the greatest conceivable despotism’ and ‘destroys all freedom’.
The third escape is that of strength and energy. It consists in destroying life, when one has understood that it is an evil and an absurdity. A few exceptionally strong and consistent people act so. Having understood the stupidity of the joke that has been played on them, and having understood that it is better to be dead than to be alive, and that it is best of all not to exist, they act accordingly and promptly end this stupid joke, since there are means: a rope round one’s neck, water, a knife to stick into one’s heart, or the trains on the railways; and the number of those of our circle who act in this way becomes greater and greater, and for the most part they act so at the best time of their life, when the strength of their mind is in full bloom and few habits degrading to the mind have as yet been acquired.
I saw that this was the worthiest way of escape and I wished to adopt it.
The fourth way out is that of weakness. It consists in seeing the truth of the situation and yet clinging to life, “knowing in advance that nothing can come of it. People of this kind know that death is better than life, but not having the strength to act rationally—to end the deception quickly and kill themselves—they seem to wait for something. This is the escape of weakness, for if I know what is best and it is within my power, why not yield to what is best?
. . . I found myself in that category.
—Leo Tolstoy
Allow me to make some concessions. While online suicide prevention programs may indeed deter some individuals with transient suicidal desires—those experiencing relationship breakups, bereavements, work-related stress, and so on—the calculus changes dramatically for those who have given sustained, rational thought to the decision to end their lives. This burden falls disproportionately on unwavering pessimists who are firmly resolved to die—come what may by way of ‘help’—but lack the requisite courage for it. They bargain with themselves: a noose of a rope, the barrel of a gun, a cocktail of pills, a jump off a tower? In the end, all current conventional methods carry the risk of failure and physical agony: surviving with half a face blown off, the building is not tall enough and end up slowly bleed to death with bones sticking out the body, being rescued mid-attempt by a “concerned citizen” only to end up in a permanent coma due to legally mandated life-saving measures in which medical practitioners are legally obliged to keep us alive, come hell or irreparable brain damage.
In essence, the current system punishes those who have a lucid, enduring desire to end their lives but lack the practical means or knowledge to do so humanely. Such individuals find themselves contemplating methods that are violent, painful, or unreliable, all because society has collectively deemed that a life—any life, regardless of its quality—is always preferable to death. The irony is that the same medical ethics that compel healthcare practitioners to prolong life at all costs—even if it results in a comatose state or severe physical disfigurement—also make them complicit in indirectly encouraging more violent methods of suicide. Surviving with a face half blown off is viewed—from a legal, medical, social, moral, political and every other standpoint—as a better outcome, all considered, than a quick painless suicide. The system implicitly tells individuals that if they wish to take control of their destiny, they must risk unthinkable suffering.
In the end, determined suicidal persons have no option but to recourse to years of planning and preparations for that final inexorable day. They may turn to resources intended for the elderly or terminally ill, such as the "Peaceful Pill Handbook" or "Final Exit," or seek out the fragmented and continually censored information provided by the lone sympathetic voice of former physician Phillip Nitschke. Yet, even these resources are frequently criticised and restricted, as if withholding information could somehow 'solve' the profound existential crises that lead people to consider suicide in the first place. And after carefully mastering the craft of painless suicide in the secrets of their chambers and performing the long awaited act, emerges the high-minded “expert” with his post-mortem opinion on ‘what could have possibly went wrong’ i.e., why couldn’t anyone stop this blasphemous act.
Nabokov, V. V., & Boyd, B. (1999). ‘Speak, memory: An autobiography revisited’. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.
Dostoyevsky, F. (2001). ‘Crime And Punishment’. Signet Classics.
Immanual Kant, (1793) ‘On the common saying: this may be true in theory but it does not apply in practice’.
Mark Twain, (1962) ‘Letters from the Earth: Uncensored Writings.
Leo Tolstoy (1880) ‘A Confession’.