Don’t rush into assisted suicide legislation or we’ll find yourself like trigger-happy Canada

Esther Rantzen wants it, Keir Starmer wants it, and his eager-beaver new MPs demand it.

So I suppose we shall get a Commons debate on assisted dying in the near future, possibly before Christmas.

And, after that, legislation via a private member’s Bill given parliamentary time by the government. It could be law before you can say Dignitas.

Hang on a minute! Why the panic? Is this controversial issue so high on the agenda that MPs must rush to judgment?

Those of us nearer the exit lounge than the new intake of twentysomething Labour MPs find their enthusiasm for assisted suicide – let’s not mince words, that’s what it is – rather alarming.

I hear what the proponents of self-administered euthanasia say about the strict conditions: only six months to live, of sound mind, permission from two doctors and so on.

But that might not be the case forever. Once the law is changed there is no going back, and the experience of countries where it has been introduced shows clearly that there is indeed a slippery slope.

And at the bottom is death.

In Canada, more than 15,000 chose this one-way route to eternity last year, with the numbers rising by a third every year. The test for eligibility has weakened over time too, to include those with a chronic illness or disability.

Does the aneurism in my aorta count as a reason to top myself? Not on your life.

Look also at the ­Netherlands. In 2022, the number of people helped to kill ­themselves rose by 14%, to 8,720 – more than 5% of all deaths.

Majority public opinion is currently on the side of the enthusiasts for voluntary euthanasia. I belong to the minority, and it will take more than a vote by young, healthy, ideologically-driven MPs to change my mind.

Tell Keir, you don’t get owt for nowt

“A lobbying scandal in the first year of the Labour government” was a prediction I read last month.

Hard to believe, until the mini-scandal of the Prime Minister’s suits and spectacles, and his wife’s frocks, broke within weeks.

Old folk ask why a £167,000-a-year Prime Minister gets freebies from a rich donor while they’re robbed of the winter fuel allowance. He should’ve gone to M&S and Specsavers, like me, and Lady S should’ve gone to a charity shop, like Mrs R.

As a rueful casualty of the big Tory expenses scandal put it to me, “Even pro-Labour chaps don’t hand over that amount of dosh without wanting something in return, mainly access.”