Chamber and committees

To ask the Scottish Government what its response is to reports that shoplifting crimes have increased by 89 per cent since 2020. (S6O-04649)

Earlier this week, I met representatives of the Scottish Retail Consortium, who warned that retail crime is spiralling out of control, costing retailers more than £2.2 billion a year in stolen goods, with many incidents going unreported due to a lack of faith that shoplifters will face any punishment or consequences. They told me—

The Scottish Retail Consortium told me that, last year, retailers across the United Kingdom spent £1.8 billion on crime prevention measures in stores, with the Scottish equivalent being around £145 million.

The minister mentioned an investment of £3 million. With shoplifting up 89 per cent since 2020 and up 18 per cent in the past year, does the minister really believe that the Government is doing enough to stop retail crime?

Earlier this year, the former chief executive officer of Ferguson Marine, John Petticrew, told the Public Audit Committee that there was a risk of further delays to the Glen Rosa, but this is far worse than we could ever have imagined. It is delayed until June 2026, and both vessels are set to cost upwards of £460 million. CalMac Ferries routes have already been pushed to the limit thanks to an ageing fleet, and islanders were counting on the delivery of that lifeline vessel.

When was the Deputy First Minister informed that the Glen Rosa would be delayed further? Did ministerial pressure and perhaps the poor sequencing of work on, or cannibalisation of, the Glen Rosa to complete the Glen Sannox factor in the latest delay? Will the new chief executive officer of Ferguson Marine be yet another scapegoat for the Scottish National Party’s failure to deliver this lifeline ferry on time and on budget?

To ask the Scottish Government for what reason the MV Glen Rosa will now not be delivered until the second quarter of 2026, with costs estimated to increase by up to £35 million.

Bill Calderwood, from the Isle of Arran ferry committee, said:

“The community are at a loss at what more can be said about the continued examples of mismanagement on this project.”

He also said:

“The programme has gone from delay to delay with little, or no, obvious consequences for the management of the company or others involved in these failures.”

After years of repeated delays, enormous cost overruns and a revolving door of senior figures at Ferguson Marine and CalMac, not one SNP minister has been shown the door. That is an insult to islanders and taxpayers.

There cannot be any more delays—islanders are sick to the back teeth of this. What more will the Deputy First Minister do to further ensure that the ferry is delivered on or before April 2026, and will anyone ever be held accountable for this SNP-made crisis?

I thank the member for that intervention, because that is the very issue that I want to come to next.

Some members think that there are safeguards in the bill and that it looks secure now, or that it could be amended to make it even more secure. However, we cannot view the debate solely through the prism of the bill as it is written today or what it will look like in the future, given that laws evolve, precedents are set, judicial decisions reshape intentions and no Parliament can bind the next one. If we pass this law, none of us can guarantee where it will end up. We must consider the practical pressures that accompany legal change.

I have spoken about palliative care in the past, and I care passionately about it: how essential it is, and how it should be the backbone of any compassionate end-of-life system. Marie McNair, an experienced palliative care nurse, eloquently presented that argument to the chamber. Today, much of that care is funded by charity, especially in our hospices. Our NHS does not shoulder that responsibility, so what message do we send when, instead of properly funding care, we legalise assisted dying?

Let us be honest about how subtle pressure and coercion work. They are not always visible, and they do not need to be spoken out loud. A person nearing the end of their life may begin to feel like a burden. They may internalise the idea that choosing to die is more dignified, more convenient and less costly for their family and for society. No doctor and no checklist can truly measure that weight. One of my healthcare professionals wrote to me and said:

“As a consultant physician at the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, I wanted to let you know that this would forever change the doctor-patient relationship. The arguments for and against are well rehearsed, but I do believe that there would be an inevitable move to relaxing criteria, and the consequent unexpressed sense of coercion experienced by vulnerable patients is a genuine concern. I do realise that this is an emotive subject, but as a clinician, I could not support a shift to actively ending patients’ lives.”

We cannot ignore the data from abroad. In Canada, laws that were initially introduced for terminal illness have expanded far beyond their original scope. In the Netherlands, the number of assisted deaths continues to rise, and we have heard about some of the “progress”—in inverted commas—from Oregon.

The idea that legalising assisted dying reduces suffering across the board does not hold. It shifts the suffering elsewhere: into the hearts of families, into ethical dilemmas for doctors, into the legal system and into our understanding of what society owes its most fragile members.

I was asked recently, in a somewhat crude message, if I simply hoped that I would not die in excruciating pain. The answer is not that that is my hope; it is my expectation. I expect a society such as ours to provide the palliative care and end-of-life care that we all deserve. That is our duty, and that is what we are putting at risk.

We must not confuse the compassion of the intention with the consequences of legislation. We must not allow rare and tragic cases to determine policies that affect the entire population. We must not pass a law trying to solve suffering that may ultimately multiply it. I ask fellow members to consider not just today’s public mood but tomorrow’s reality, and to consider not only the short-term comfort of choice but the long-term consequences of this risky bill. Once we start down this path, we cannot guarantee where it ends.

If one life is ended unnecessarily—just one—due to the introduction of the bill, I, for one, could never forgive myself. Let us protect our duty to care. Let us commit to end suffering, not by ending lives but by supporting them with dignity, love and proper medical care. The proposed legislation is inherently risky, and no number of amendments can ever make it safe. Do not risk it today; vote against the bill.

Without echoing all the comments from across the chamber today, I will simply say that this has been quite an afternoon. To see the chamber as full as it is goes some way towards reflecting how connected we can be with what is happening outside Holyrood. I commend Liam McArthur for the way in which everything has happened—from the sensitive manner in which the bill was introduced to how the debate has been conducted across the chamber. I look forward to his closing remarks. These have not been easy discussions, and I respect the convictions of colleagues on both sides.

I thank everyone who has contacted me by email, letter and phone, and in person, and those who continue to contact me—I am still getting emails in my inbox. I have been contacted thousands and thousands of times since I came into Parliament in 2021.

We have heard that public opinion has perhaps shifted since the issue was previously debated in 2015. I recall Mr O’Kane’s point about how the experience of the pandemic has perhaps made people think differently about death, suffering and the control that the state might have over their lives.

Coming into Parliament in 2021, I looked far more favourably on the bill than I do now. I have changed my mind. Thousands of emails and hundreds of discussions have led me to believe that, despite the provisions at the heart of the bill having the very best of intentions behind them, the risks that the bill would introduce are real and serious.

Like many members this afternoon, I say: do not risk it. At first glance, the bill appears focused and narrow. It sets conditions around mental competence and diagnosis of terminal illness, and it has safeguards. However, when we look closer, the scope is far wider than it seems. That is one of my most grave concerns.

Crucially, the definition of “terminal illness” in the bill does not require a specific prognosis and clinical expectation of imminent death. That means that individuals with conditions that might persist for years, even with fluctuating severity, could still qualify. That is not a safeguard. It is a red flag, and it carries serious, lasting risk.

That looseness in the definition opens the door to further expansion. In fact, the Scottish Parliament’s Health, Social Care and Sport Committee warned of that risk, stating that, if the bill becomes law, it could be challenged in the courts to widen eligibility even further. Once the principle is established, pressure becomes difficult to resist.

But we are not elected in the same way, are we?

You spoke about confusion among voters. Would that regional poll process be clear enough for voters? We all know that different election mechanisms can come along and be confusing. If the process is not clear, how could it be improved?