Chamber and committees

This evening’s debate has been deeply emotional. Many members have spoken about the deaths of loved ones and how those experiences have shaped their views on assisted dying. I begin by acknowledging that sincerity. None of us comes to the issue lightly, and I do not question the compassion or integrity of those who will vote differently from me this evening.

When I entered Parliament, I instinctively shared many of the same instincts that lead people to support the principle of assisted dying. Two motivations have come through clearly from members across the chamber. The first is the desire to reduce unnecessary suffering and the second is the desire to respect and protect individual autonomy. Those are humane values, and they are values that we all share. They are not the dividing line in this debate. The real question that is before us tonight is whether those principles can be translated safely into the bill that sits in front of us. Having studied the safeguards that are proposed in the bill and listened closely to the debates throughout its passage, I have come to the conclusion that the bill does not provide that certainty.

My greatest concern is the risk of coercion. Amendments have been made in good faith to strengthen the safeguards, and I recognise the effort that colleagues have put in to that work, but I remain unconvinced that coercion can be reliably detected in every case. Experts have highlighted how subtle and deeply embedded that pressure can be. In situations of domestic abuse, for example, people often come to see the world through the perspective of the person who is exerting control over them. They may not recognise that pressure until they have had the time and space to reflect on their circumstances. The process set out in the bill does not allow for that depth of reflection. In legislation of such gravity, where the consequence is irreversible, even a small risk must weigh heavily on us.

I have been troubled by the reliance on the section 104 order to determine key safeguards and by matters such as conscientious objection, and the training and qualifications required of medical professionals. Those are not technical or minor details; they are fundamental protections. Yet we are being asked to pass legislation knowing that those aspects and safeguards will be developed later through secondary legislation, subject to limited scrutiny and not shaped directly by the Parliament.

We are legislating in one of the most sensitive areas of human life. Any uncertainty about how core safeguards will ultimately be defined is a serious concern. Throughout stages 2 and 3, I proposed amendments that were intended to strengthen the bill. Those debates did not provide reassurance for me—they confirmed that important gaps remain.

I also remain concerned about how an assisted dying service would sit within the NHS. If such a service were ever legalised, it must never become an expectation placed on patients or clinicians, yet the structure of the bill risks embedding it as a normal part of NHS provision.

I received a letter from 370 healthcare professionals across Scotland. There were many familiar names in that document, including those of clinicians that I have worked with for decades, ex-presidents of the royal colleges in Glasgow and Edinburgh, and consultants and medical directors from Aberdeen to Wishaw.

As we reach the end of this long and emotional debate, there are simple questions that we must ask ourselves before we vote. Can coercion always be detected? Are the safeguards fully defined and determined by the Parliament? Will the legislation avoid fundamentally changing expectations in the NHS? Ultimately, the doctor-patient relationship will change for ever. If we cannot answer those questions with a yes, with complete confidence, our responsibility as members of the Scottish Parliament is clear. We must vote no.

20:47

This evening’s debate has been deeply emotional. Many members have spoken about the deaths of loved ones and how those experiences have shaped their views on assisted dying. I begin by acknowledging that sincerity. None of us comes to the issue lightly, and I do not question the compassion or integrity of those who will vote differently from me this evening.

When I entered Parliament, I instinctively shared many of the same instincts that lead people to support the principle of assisted dying. Two motivations have come through clearly from members across the chamber. The first is the desire to reduce unnecessary suffering and the second is the desire to respect and protect individual autonomy. Those are humane values, and they are values that we all share. They are not the dividing line in this debate. The real question that is before us tonight is whether those principles can be translated safely into the bill that sits in front of us. Having studied the safeguards that are proposed in the bill and listened closely to the debates throughout its passage, I have come to the conclusion that the bill does not provide that certainty.

My greatest concern is the risk of coercion. Amendments have been made in good faith to strengthen the safeguards, and I recognise the effort that colleagues have put in to that work, but I remain unconvinced that coercion can be reliably detected in every case. Experts have highlighted how subtle and deeply embedded that pressure can be. In situations of domestic abuse, for example, people often come to see the world through the perspective of the person who is exerting control over them. They may not recognise that pressure until they have had the time and space to reflect on their circumstances. The process set out in the bill does not allow for that depth of reflection. In legislation of such gravity, where the consequence is irreversible, even a small risk must weigh heavily on us.

I have been troubled by the reliance on the section 104 order to determine key safeguards and by matters such as conscientious objection, and the training and qualifications required of medical professionals. Those are not technical or minor details; they are fundamental protections. Yet we are being asked to pass legislation knowing that those aspects and safeguards will be developed later through secondary legislation, subject to limited scrutiny and not shaped directly by the Parliament.

We are legislating in one of the most sensitive areas of human life. Any uncertainty about how core safeguards will ultimately be defined is a serious concern. Throughout stages 2 and 3, I proposed amendments that were intended to strengthen the bill. Those debates did not provide reassurance for me—they confirmed that important gaps remain.

I also remain concerned about how an assisted dying service would sit within the NHS. If such a service were ever legalised, it must never become an expectation placed on patients or clinicians, yet the structure of the bill risks embedding it as a normal part of NHS provision.

I received a letter from 370 healthcare professionals across Scotland. There were many familiar names in that document, including those of clinicians that I have worked with for decades, ex-presidents of the royal colleges in Glasgow and Edinburgh, and consultants and medical directors from Aberdeen to Wishaw.

As we reach the end of this long and emotional debate, there are simple questions that we must ask ourselves before we vote. Can coercion always be detected? Are the safeguards fully defined and determined by the Parliament? Will the legislation avoid fundamentally changing expectations in the NHS? Ultimately, the doctor-patient relationship will change for ever. If we cannot answer those questions with a yes, with complete confidence, our responsibility as members of the Scottish Parliament is clear. We must vote no.

20:47

This evening’s debate has been deeply emotional. Many members have spoken about the deaths of loved ones and how those experiences have shaped their views on assisted dying. I begin by acknowledging that sincerity. None of us comes to the issue lightly, and I do not question the compassion or integrity of those who will vote differently from me this evening.

When I entered Parliament, I instinctively shared many of the same instincts that lead people to support the principle of assisted dying. Two motivations have come through clearly from members across the chamber. The first is the desire to reduce unnecessary suffering and the second is the desire to respect and protect individual autonomy. Those are humane values, and they are values that we all share. They are not the dividing line in this debate. The real question that is before us tonight is whether those principles can be translated safely into the bill that sits in front of us. Having studied the safeguards that are proposed in the bill and listened closely to the debates throughout its passage, I have come to the conclusion that the bill does not provide that certainty.

My greatest concern is the risk of coercion. Amendments have been made in good faith to strengthen the safeguards, and I recognise the effort that colleagues have put in to that work, but I remain unconvinced that coercion can be reliably detected in every case. Experts have highlighted how subtle and deeply embedded that pressure can be. In situations of domestic abuse, for example, people often come to see the world through the perspective of the person who is exerting control over them. They may not recognise that pressure until they have had the time and space to reflect on their circumstances. The process set out in the bill does not allow for that depth of reflection. In legislation of such gravity, where the consequence is irreversible, even a small risk must weigh heavily on us.

I have been troubled by the reliance on the section 104 order to determine key safeguards and by matters such as conscientious objection, and the training and qualifications required of medical professionals. Those are not technical or minor details; they are fundamental protections. Yet we are being asked to pass legislation knowing that those aspects and safeguards will be developed later through secondary legislation, subject to limited scrutiny and not shaped directly by the Parliament.

We are legislating in one of the most sensitive areas of human life. Any uncertainty about how core safeguards will ultimately be defined is a serious concern. Throughout stages 2 and 3, I proposed amendments that were intended to strengthen the bill. Those debates did not provide reassurance for me—they confirmed that important gaps remain.

I also remain concerned about how an assisted dying service would sit within the NHS. If such a service were ever legalised, it must never become an expectation placed on patients or clinicians, yet the structure of the bill risks embedding it as a normal part of NHS provision.

I received a letter from 370 healthcare professionals across Scotland. There were many familiar names in that document, including those of clinicians that I have worked with for decades, ex-presidents of the royal colleges in Glasgow and Edinburgh, and consultants and medical directors from Aberdeen to Wishaw.

As we reach the end of this long and emotional debate, there are simple questions that we must ask ourselves before we vote. Can coercion always be detected? Are the safeguards fully defined and determined by the Parliament? Will the legislation avoid fundamentally changing expectations in the NHS? Ultimately, the doctor-patient relationship will change for ever. If we cannot answer those questions with a yes, with complete confidence, our responsibility as members of the Scottish Parliament is clear. We must vote no.

20:47

This evening’s debate has been deeply emotional. Many members have spoken about the deaths of loved ones and how those experiences have shaped their views on assisted dying. I begin by acknowledging that sincerity. None of us comes to the issue lightly, and I do not question the compassion or integrity of those who will vote differently from me this evening.

When I entered Parliament, I instinctively shared many of the same instincts that lead people to support the principle of assisted dying. Two motivations have come through clearly from members across the chamber. The first is the desire to reduce unnecessary suffering and the second is the desire to respect and protect individual autonomy. Those are humane values, and they are values that we all share. They are not the dividing line in this debate. The real question that is before us tonight is whether those principles can be translated safely into the bill that sits in front of us. Having studied the safeguards that are proposed in the bill and listened closely to the debates throughout its passage, I have come to the conclusion that the bill does not provide that certainty.

My greatest concern is the risk of coercion. Amendments have been made in good faith to strengthen the safeguards, and I recognise the effort that colleagues have put in to that work, but I remain unconvinced that coercion can be reliably detected in every case. Experts have highlighted how subtle and deeply embedded that pressure can be. In situations of domestic abuse, for example, people often come to see the world through the perspective of the person who is exerting control over them. They may not recognise that pressure until they have had the time and space to reflect on their circumstances. The process set out in the bill does not allow for that depth of reflection. In legislation of such gravity, where the consequence is irreversible, even a small risk must weigh heavily on us.

I have been troubled by the reliance on the section 104 order to determine key safeguards and by matters such as conscientious objection, and the training and qualifications required of medical professionals. Those are not technical or minor details; they are fundamental protections. Yet we are being asked to pass legislation knowing that those aspects and safeguards will be developed later through secondary legislation, subject to limited scrutiny and not shaped directly by the Parliament.

We are legislating in one of the most sensitive areas of human life. Any uncertainty about how core safeguards will ultimately be defined is a serious concern. Throughout stages 2 and 3, I proposed amendments that were intended to strengthen the bill. Those debates did not provide reassurance for me—they confirmed that important gaps remain.

I also remain concerned about how an assisted dying service would sit within the NHS. If such a service were ever legalised, it must never become an expectation placed on patients or clinicians, yet the structure of the bill risks embedding it as a normal part of NHS provision.

I received a letter from 370 healthcare professionals across Scotland. There were many familiar names in that document, including those of clinicians that I have worked with for decades, ex-presidents of the royal colleges in Glasgow and Edinburgh, and consultants and medical directors from Aberdeen to Wishaw.

As we reach the end of this long and emotional debate, there are simple questions that we must ask ourselves before we vote. Can coercion always be detected? Are the safeguards fully defined and determined by the Parliament? Will the legislation avoid fundamentally changing expectations in the NHS? Ultimately, the doctor-patient relationship will change for ever. If we cannot answer those questions with a yes, with complete confidence, our responsibility as members of the Scottish Parliament is clear. We must vote no.

20:47

This evening’s debate has been deeply emotional. Many members have spoken about the deaths of loved ones and how those experiences have shaped their views on assisted dying. I begin by acknowledging that sincerity. None of us comes to the issue lightly, and I do not question the compassion or integrity of those who will vote differently from me this evening.

When I entered Parliament, I instinctively shared many of the same instincts that lead people to support the principle of assisted dying. Two motivations have come through clearly from members across the chamber. The first is the desire to reduce unnecessary suffering and the second is the desire to respect and protect individual autonomy. Those are humane values, and they are values that we all share. They are not the dividing line in this debate. The real question that is before us tonight is whether those principles can be translated safely into the bill that sits in front of us. Having studied the safeguards that are proposed in the bill and listened closely to the debates throughout its passage, I have come to the conclusion that the bill does not provide that certainty.

My greatest concern is the risk of coercion. Amendments have been made in good faith to strengthen the safeguards, and I recognise the effort that colleagues have put in to that work, but I remain unconvinced that coercion can be reliably detected in every case. Experts have highlighted how subtle and deeply embedded that pressure can be. In situations of domestic abuse, for example, people often come to see the world through the perspective of the person who is exerting control over them. They may not recognise that pressure until they have had the time and space to reflect on their circumstances. The process set out in the bill does not allow for that depth of reflection. In legislation of such gravity, where the consequence is irreversible, even a small risk must weigh heavily on us.

I have been troubled by the reliance on the section 104 order to determine key safeguards and by matters such as conscientious objection, and the training and qualifications required of medical professionals. Those are not technical or minor details; they are fundamental protections. Yet we are being asked to pass legislation knowing that those aspects and safeguards will be developed later through secondary legislation, subject to limited scrutiny and not shaped directly by the Parliament.

We are legislating in one of the most sensitive areas of human life. Any uncertainty about how core safeguards will ultimately be defined is a serious concern. Throughout stages 2 and 3, I proposed amendments that were intended to strengthen the bill. Those debates did not provide reassurance for me—they confirmed that important gaps remain.

I also remain concerned about how an assisted dying service would sit within the NHS. If such a service were ever legalised, it must never become an expectation placed on patients or clinicians, yet the structure of the bill risks embedding it as a normal part of NHS provision.

I received a letter from 370 healthcare professionals across Scotland. There were many familiar names in that document, including those of clinicians that I have worked with for decades, ex-presidents of the royal colleges in Glasgow and Edinburgh, and consultants and medical directors from Aberdeen to Wishaw.

As we reach the end of this long and emotional debate, there are simple questions that we must ask ourselves before we vote. Can coercion always be detected? Are the safeguards fully defined and determined by the Parliament? Will the legislation avoid fundamentally changing expectations in the NHS? Ultimately, the doctor-patient relationship will change for ever. If we cannot answer those questions with a yes, with complete confidence, our responsibility as members of the Scottish Parliament is clear. We must vote no.

20:47

This evening’s debate has been deeply emotional. Many members have spoken about the deaths of loved ones and how those experiences have shaped their views on assisted dying. I begin by acknowledging that sincerity. None of us comes to the issue lightly, and I do not question the compassion or integrity of those who will vote differently from me this evening.

When I entered Parliament, I instinctively shared many of the same instincts that lead people to support the principle of assisted dying. Two motivations have come through clearly from members across the chamber. The first is the desire to reduce unnecessary suffering and the second is the desire to respect and protect individual autonomy. Those are humane values, and they are values that we all share. They are not the dividing line in this debate. The real question that is before us tonight is whether those principles can be translated safely into the bill that sits in front of us. Having studied the safeguards that are proposed in the bill and listened closely to the debates throughout its passage, I have come to the conclusion that the bill does not provide that certainty.

My greatest concern is the risk of coercion. Amendments have been made in good faith to strengthen the safeguards, and I recognise the effort that colleagues have put in to that work, but I remain unconvinced that coercion can be reliably detected in every case. Experts have highlighted how subtle and deeply embedded that pressure can be. In situations of domestic abuse, for example, people often come to see the world through the perspective of the person who is exerting control over them. They may not recognise that pressure until they have had the time and space to reflect on their circumstances. The process set out in the bill does not allow for that depth of reflection. In legislation of such gravity, where the consequence is irreversible, even a small risk must weigh heavily on us.

I have been troubled by the reliance on the section 104 order to determine key safeguards and by matters such as conscientious objection, and the training and qualifications required of medical professionals. Those are not technical or minor details; they are fundamental protections. Yet we are being asked to pass legislation knowing that those aspects and safeguards will be developed later through secondary legislation, subject to limited scrutiny and not shaped directly by the Parliament.

We are legislating in one of the most sensitive areas of human life. Any uncertainty about how core safeguards will ultimately be defined is a serious concern. Throughout stages 2 and 3, I proposed amendments that were intended to strengthen the bill. Those debates did not provide reassurance for me—they confirmed that important gaps remain.

I also remain concerned about how an assisted dying service would sit within the NHS. If such a service were ever legalised, it must never become an expectation placed on patients or clinicians, yet the structure of the bill risks embedding it as a normal part of NHS provision.

I received a letter from 370 healthcare professionals across Scotland. There were many familiar names in that document, including those of clinicians that I have worked with for decades, ex-presidents of the royal colleges in Glasgow and Edinburgh, and consultants and medical directors from Aberdeen to Wishaw.

As we reach the end of this long and emotional debate, there are simple questions that we must ask ourselves before we vote. Can coercion always be detected? Are the safeguards fully defined and determined by the Parliament? Will the legislation avoid fundamentally changing expectations in the NHS? Ultimately, the doctor-patient relationship will change for ever. If we cannot answer those questions with a yes, with complete confidence, our responsibility as members of the Scottish Parliament is clear. We must vote no.

20:47

This evening’s debate has been deeply emotional. Many members have spoken about the deaths of loved ones and how those experiences have shaped their views on assisted dying. I begin by acknowledging that sincerity. None of us comes to the issue lightly, and I do not question the compassion or integrity of those who will vote differently from me this evening.

When I entered Parliament, I instinctively shared many of the same instincts that lead people to support the principle of assisted dying. Two motivations have come through clearly from members across the chamber. The first is the desire to reduce unnecessary suffering and the second is the desire to respect and protect individual autonomy. Those are humane values, and they are values that we all share. They are not the dividing line in this debate. The real question that is before us tonight is whether those principles can be translated safely into the bill that sits in front of us. Having studied the safeguards that are proposed in the bill and listened closely to the debates throughout its passage, I have come to the conclusion that the bill does not provide that certainty.

My greatest concern is the risk of coercion. Amendments have been made in good faith to strengthen the safeguards, and I recognise the effort that colleagues have put in to that work, but I remain unconvinced that coercion can be reliably detected in every case. Experts have highlighted how subtle and deeply embedded that pressure can be. In situations of domestic abuse, for example, people often come to see the world through the perspective of the person who is exerting control over them. They may not recognise that pressure until they have had the time and space to reflect on their circumstances. The process set out in the bill does not allow for that depth of reflection. In legislation of such gravity, where the consequence is irreversible, even a small risk must weigh heavily on us.

I have been troubled by the reliance on the section 104 order to determine key safeguards and by matters such as conscientious objection, and the training and qualifications required of medical professionals. Those are not technical or minor details; they are fundamental protections. Yet we are being asked to pass legislation knowing that those aspects and safeguards will be developed later through secondary legislation, subject to limited scrutiny and not shaped directly by the Parliament.

We are legislating in one of the most sensitive areas of human life. Any uncertainty about how core safeguards will ultimately be defined is a serious concern. Throughout stages 2 and 3, I proposed amendments that were intended to strengthen the bill. Those debates did not provide reassurance for me—they confirmed that important gaps remain.

I also remain concerned about how an assisted dying service would sit within the NHS. If such a service were ever legalised, it must never become an expectation placed on patients or clinicians, yet the structure of the bill risks embedding it as a normal part of NHS provision.

I received a letter from 370 healthcare professionals across Scotland. There were many familiar names in that document, including those of clinicians that I have worked with for decades, ex-presidents of the royal colleges in Glasgow and Edinburgh, and consultants and medical directors from Aberdeen to Wishaw.

As we reach the end of this long and emotional debate, there are simple questions that we must ask ourselves before we vote. Can coercion always be detected? Are the safeguards fully defined and determined by the Parliament? Will the legislation avoid fundamentally changing expectations in the NHS? Ultimately, the doctor-patient relationship will change for ever. If we cannot answer those questions with a yes, with complete confidence, our responsibility as members of the Scottish Parliament is clear. We must vote no.

20:47

This evening’s debate has been deeply emotional. Many members have spoken about the deaths of loved ones and how those experiences have shaped their views on assisted dying. I begin by acknowledging that sincerity. None of us comes to the issue lightly, and I do not question the compassion or integrity of those who will vote differently from me this evening.

When I entered Parliament, I instinctively shared many of the same instincts that lead people to support the principle of assisted dying. Two motivations have come through clearly from members across the chamber. The first is the desire to reduce unnecessary suffering and the second is the desire to respect and protect individual autonomy. Those are humane values, and they are values that we all share. They are not the dividing line in this debate. The real question that is before us tonight is whether those principles can be translated safely into the bill that sits in front of us. Having studied the safeguards that are proposed in the bill and listened closely to the debates throughout its passage, I have come to the conclusion that the bill does not provide that certainty.

My greatest concern is the risk of coercion. Amendments have been made in good faith to strengthen the safeguards, and I recognise the effort that colleagues have put in to that work, but I remain unconvinced that coercion can be reliably detected in every case. Experts have highlighted how subtle and deeply embedded that pressure can be. In situations of domestic abuse, for example, people often come to see the world through the perspective of the person who is exerting control over them. They may not recognise that pressure until they have had the time and space to reflect on their circumstances. The process set out in the bill does not allow for that depth of reflection. In legislation of such gravity, where the consequence is irreversible, even a small risk must weigh heavily on us.

I have been troubled by the reliance on the section 104 order to determine key safeguards and by matters such as conscientious objection, and the training and qualifications required of medical professionals. Those are not technical or minor details; they are fundamental protections. Yet we are being asked to pass legislation knowing that those aspects and safeguards will be developed later through secondary legislation, subject to limited scrutiny and not shaped directly by the Parliament.

We are legislating in one of the most sensitive areas of human life. Any uncertainty about how core safeguards will ultimately be defined is a serious concern. Throughout stages 2 and 3, I proposed amendments that were intended to strengthen the bill. Those debates did not provide reassurance for me—they confirmed that important gaps remain.

I also remain concerned about how an assisted dying service would sit within the NHS. If such a service were ever legalised, it must never become an expectation placed on patients or clinicians, yet the structure of the bill risks embedding it as a normal part of NHS provision.

I received a letter from 370 healthcare professionals across Scotland. There were many familiar names in that document, including those of clinicians that I have worked with for decades, ex-presidents of the royal colleges in Glasgow and Edinburgh, and consultants and medical directors from Aberdeen to Wishaw.

As we reach the end of this long and emotional debate, there are simple questions that we must ask ourselves before we vote. Can coercion always be detected? Are the safeguards fully defined and determined by the Parliament? Will the legislation avoid fundamentally changing expectations in the NHS? Ultimately, the doctor-patient relationship will change for ever. If we cannot answer those questions with a yes, with complete confidence, our responsibility as members of the Scottish Parliament is clear. We must vote no.

20:47

Before I speak to my amendments, I draw members’ attention to the fact that, in the past few minutes, we have received an email from the Royal Pharmaceutical Society in Scotland, which has stated its opposition to the bill following the removal of vital protections to protect pharmacists who conscientiously oppose assisted dying.

That goes to the heart of what some of the amendments in this group are about. We should make decisions that are driven by data. My amendments 115 and 116 seek to strengthen reporting and accountability in relation to the use of approved substances under section 15(1). They would require any complications, side-effects or adverse reactions, which were experienced by persons who were provided with an approved substance, to be documented in detail. Those details should include the type and frequency of the side effects, the substance that was used and any clinical or professional recommendations that were made to address those issues.

All drugs have side effects. Last week, we heard from a palliative care doctor about how specialised the service that they offer is, how every patient is different and that drugs act differently in every patient’s circumstance. I made those points when I spoke to my amendments at stage 2, but they were cast aside by those who claim to be nurses.

We know that the cocktail of drugs that is used in assisted dying is a toxic combination that includes paralytics. We are not sure what a person who undergoes an assisted death goes through, because the paralytics act first and quickly. It is a not a Disney death, and serious side effects happen. For some people, the drugs do not work, and other people take hours to die. We heard about those people earlier this week from Ruth Maguire and Audrey Nicoll.

The term did not relate to what your mother experienced. [Interruption.]