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Lecretia Seales. Photo: Lecretia.org
Lecretia Seales. Photo: Lecretia.org

OPINIONSocietyAugust 31, 2016

Lecretia, law and life: Geoffrey Palmer on how the government can address assisted dying

Lecretia Seales. Photo: Lecretia.org
Lecretia Seales. Photo: Lecretia.org

The law needs to be changed to allow Lecretia Seales’ wish to determine when she died. But we must take care that such a measure would not be a slippery slope toward some ambiguous twilight zone, says Sir Geoffrey Palmer

Lecretia Seales died of a cancerous brain tumour in Wellington on 3 June 2015. She was 42.

Employed by the Law Commission as a senior legal and policy adviser for eight years, Lecretia had an abiding interest and competence in the field of law reform. She lived in Karori with her devoted husband Matt Vickers and their Abyssinian cat Ferdinand. I feel privileged to have known Lecretia well, both when I was President of the Law Commission and earlier when she worked with me at the law firm Chen, Palmer and Partners, public law specialists. Lecretia was a lawyer of high quality and she had a passion for the law. She hailed from Tauranga where her parents Shirley and Larry still live. She loved cooking and dancing. She had the gifts of friendship and empathy. I have met few people as determined and strong as she was. In the case she brought in the High Court concerning her impending death one witness described her personality as “young, bright, independent, perfectionist”. I concur.

Lecretia was diagnosed with brain cancer in 2011. Earlier she began suffering from severe headaches and her general practitioner referred her to a neurologist. An MRI scan, some surgery and pathology tests led to a diagnosis of a serious and cancerous brain tumour, with tentacles reaching all through her brain. She underwent surgery of a most grave character, followed by six weeks of intensive radiation therapy that left her scalp very burnt. She continued to work and live as full a life as she could, despite tiring more easily and suffering from deteriorating eyesight. Lecretia was determined to live both her personal and professional lives to the full in what time she had left. And she did so with gusto. She continued working at the Law Commission until a very late stage. She travelled overseas to dance the tango in Buenos Aires. She went to San Francisco and Bermuda and then to Morocco in October 2014, by which time her mobility was seriously impaired. Chemotherapy worked well until August 2014, but bad symptoms set in and Lecretia’s life became increasingly difficult. She had to have a walking stick. She could not drive. She needed help to stand up. Her left foot became useless. She became seriously impaired and could no longer dress herself without help, she experienced increased pain.

Lecretia Seales. Photo: Lecretia.org
Lecretia Seales. Photo: Lecretia.org

There could be no certainty how her illness would progress. It was clear to her and all her whānau that death was inevitable and time was running out. She wanted the option of determining when she died, if she began to experience enduring suffering that was intolerable. As she told the court, “If my death is manageable I should be the one to manage it.” The prospect of a slow, unpleasant, painful and undignified death weighed heavily on her mind. She had contemplated whether she could take her own life unaided, but this was not a choice she wanted to make. And were she to take such action she would have to take it earlier than if a doctor were available to assist. She felt deprived of choices. Her evidence was: “I want to live as long as I can but I want to have a voice in my death and be able to say ‘enough’.”

Lecretia took a bold and courageous step. She decided to use her personal situation as an emblem of why New Zealand law should be changed. For a person as private as she was this must have been a difficult decision. It was not a decision she took lightly. She researched the law and discussed it in depth with a number of people, of whom I was one. She studied the very recent right to physician assisted dying established in the ground breaking decision of the Supreme Court of Canada on February 6, 2015. There, a person in a similar position to Lecretia won her case. It was held the Canadian Criminal code infringed the Canadian Charter of Rights in a situation like Lecretia’s, so that a blanket prohibition on physician assisted dying was constitutionally invalid. The New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990 is similar in many respects to the Canadian Charter under which the Canadian case succeeded. The New Zealand Bill of Rights Act borrowed heavily from the Canadian Charter. It should be noted that Canada also has a criminal code similar in its historical derivation to New Zealand’s and the two systems remain in touch with one another. Lecretia reached the view that there was a fighting chance her case could succeed in the New Zealand courts. Even if she did not prevail, Lecretia reasoned, the evidence would demonstrate why New Zealand law should be changed. Her decision to use litigation as a law reform project was typical of the dedication she had to a legal system that is up to date, fair and just.

Lecretia sought declarations from the court that in her particular circumstances her doctor could lawfully accede to her requests for physician-assisted dying. This was necessary for the doctor to avoid the risk of prosecution for the crimes of murder or manslaughter in administering aid in dying. It was also necessary to secure a declaration that the doctor would not be at risk of prosecution for assisting Lecretia to commit suicide. So it was the case was mounted in front of Justice Collins in the High Court at Wellington, led by Andrew Butler, with 51 affidavits from 36 witnesses being filed in the case. The application was opposed by the Crown and other interests joined.

Lecretia had the judge’s decision read to her before she died on 3 June, and the judgment was announced publicly the day after her death. The last day of the legal argument was 27 May, so the judge produced his useful and detailed judgment in a remarkably short time. Lecretia’s case failed, but the case and the evidence contributed powerfully to ensuring that the adequacy of New Zealand law on this subject would be examined. That examination is now occurring in front of a Parliamentary Select Committee. The Committee has received a greater quantity of submissions than any Select Committee has ever previously received in New Zealand.

The question I ask on behalf of Lecretia is whether a legislative case can be made out to change the law so that it is lawful to allow the termination of life by a doctor at the request of the patient where there is compelling reason to do so. I am exploring only the proposition that life can be ended intentionally in order to relieve pain and suffering and what checks and balances may be required to prevent abuse. That is the law reform issue that flows from Lecretia’s case. I am not here concerned to argue the case for a general right to die. In matters of this sort it is better to proceed with careful, small steps. The sanctity of life is a big principle and it has so been for a long time.

The evidence in Lecretia’s case showed that she suffered from a grievous and terminal illness. Further treatments could not cure her condition. The growth of the tumour would ultimately prove fatal and it did. Great physical and psychological suffering resulted from Lecretia’s illness. Pain management for patients with brain tumours can be especially appalling, the evidence showed. Little could be done to manage it except by way of pain relief that may be ineffective and high steroid doses cause severe side-effects: depression, anxiety, muscle deterioration, agitation, increased blood pressure, hunger, ulcers and bleeding, weight gain and sleep disturbance. Lecretia experienced most of those, including a significant weight gain. Morphine was used to relieve her pain.

As the tumour diffused through her system Lecretia suffered severe pain and other effects including loss of mental acuity, inability to move, talk or swallow and she required palliative sedation. She was by the time that case was argued in a wheel chair, she suffered from visual impairments, lack of mobility, loss of independence, fatigue, incontinence and great difficulty in communicating. Pain in the neck and head is particularly difficult to control.

On top of all this was the psychological suffering – anxiety, hopelessness, frustration, loss of qualities that made her who she was and the sight of her loved ones being distressed at her plight. This was particularly serious for someone like her, who valued her self-sufficiency and autonomy and was a driven person. She felt overwhelming anxiety about the progression of her illness and the suffering that she may have to face before the end. That anxiety significantly impinged upon the enjoyment of the time she had left to be with her friends and family. She considered ending her own life before she reached the stage of intolerable suffering while she was still physically capable of doing so. This thought produced extreme anxiety in her. She was worried about implicating her husband or parents in her death and she worried about not being able to say a proper goodbye.

She told the court in her first affidavit:

It seems incomprehensible to me that I can exercise a choice to end my life when I am able, and still have quality of life, but can’ t get any help to do so at a later point when my life no longer has any quality for me. I want to live as long as I can but I want to have a voice in my death and be able to say “enough”.

Her argument was that if she was provided with a choice of an assisted death that it would improve the quality of her palliative care, it would alleviate her non-physical suffering and remove the need to contemplate taking her own life prematurely. It would return to her some of her valued autonomy. The evidence in front of the court shows a number of instances where people suicided early in order to avoid becoming incapable of doing so. The central values to be advanced by permitting such an action reside in the principles of human dignity, autonomy and self-determination.

In simple terms the issues can be put this way: “It is my life, no-one else’s. I am free to end it when I am dying and the pain and suffering has become so intense that in accord with my own free will I want to end it all. Where I am suffering from a terminal illness, I am mentally competent and I fear a painful and undignified end I should be able to receive a prescription that enables me to exit gracefully so relieving my acute anxiety about the coming ordeal?” This makes clear the point of view Lecretia had. She was not wanting to commit suicide in the sense that most people who accomplish it do. She wanted to avoid what she regarded as a worse fate.

That seems a reasonable thing for the law to allow if it can be done without danger to others and with sufficient safeguards against abuse. What is the public purpose to be achieved from prolonging such a life? There comes a point when the life is simply not worth living. For the state and its law to place obstacles in the way of such a person experiencing intolerable suffering appears to the person to be a cruel punishment imposed by the law. But for what purpose? The values behind the law can relatively easily be protected and preserved. The bright line general rule in our law ought to admit of exceptions in such circumstances such as Lecretia’s. Otherwise the law is disproportionate in its consequences and simply too wide.

If the argument I am advancing is accepted what then is the best means of designing a workable scheme? There do exist some difficulties in drawing the line in the correct place. There are issues of how much medical evidence there needs to be and from whom. There are issues about sick people being pressured by relatives into taking the step for reasons that relate to the relatives, not to the person who is suffering. My own view is that it is desirable to proceed with caution in this area and not go further than the circumstances warrant. I am aware of the wider arguments concerning euthanasia generally. In many circumstances they may be persuasive. But here I am confining myself to the situation in which Lecretia found herself. The law needs to be changed to allow her wish to be granted. This is not in my view a step that lessens the sanctity to be accorded to life. Death is inevitable. By making this suggested exception to the general principle we would be respecting life. And such a measure would not be a slippery slope toward some ambiguous twilight zone.

There has been much discussion in New Zealand of the measures adopted overseas, particularly in Belgium, Canada, Colombia, California, Luxembourg, Montana, New Mexico, Oregon, the Netherlands, Switzerland and Washington. There is much to be learned from these jurisdictions to be sure. But we in New Zealand are in our own political space with our own culture. The risk is that a Bill to be introduced to the parliament could easily end up being overly complex, involved and bureaucratic, as so much of the law has sadly become. To prevent abuse the safeguards need to be real, but at the same time the law needs to be as simple and clear as is practically possible.

The literature, and no doubt the 21,533 submissions to the New Zealand Select Committee, warn that many safeguards must be required if the law is to be changed. Among the issues that require such safeguards are such things as the irrevocable nature of ending life, the possibility of errors, the vulnerability of people who are suffering who may be induced to end their lives at the behest of others and the public health issues relating to suicide in the community generally. This last is an ongoing and substantial policy issue.

The proposal I put forward is not found in any of the overseas laws that I have examined. But in the New Zealand context it could be useful to involve the Family Court as a means of ensuring that the standards of the new law are met and the public can be assured they have been met. The elements of a simple and clear policy that arrives at an equitable accommodation of all the interests could have the following elements.

The existing criminal law would remain, although the penalty in section 179 of the Crimes Act, which addresses aiding and abetting suicide, is excessive and should be halved.

An exception should be enacted in the Crimes Act to allow a person to be lawfully provided with medical assistance in dying where:

  • the person is of at least 18 years of age and capable of making decisions;
  • the person is a permanent resident of New Zealand;
  • the person has consented in writing to receive such assistance before two independent witnesses;
  • two medical practitioners have certified that the person has a grievous and incurable medical condition;
  • the medical condition is causing enduring suffering that is intolerable to the person in his or her circumstances and condition;
  • the facts have been reviewed by the Family Court and a Judge has certified that the criteria laid down in the law have been met; and
  • there is a medical practitioner prepared to provide the assistance approved by the Court.

I suggest that such a proposal has the advantage of avoiding health professionals having to take responsibility for decisions about whether the person should be permitted to die. Medical people have raised many issues concerning the ethical dilemmas they face in such situations. Making it a judicial decision obviates those difficulties. The evidence in front of Collins J suggested that “doctors would not contemplate taking any steps to shorten a patient’s life.” There was considerable objection from palliative care specialists, although not all the evidence before the judge was in that direction. The approval of the decision to end life should probably not be in the hands of the doctors, whose responsibilities are already heavy enough.

I do observe, however, that in practice they do make decisions now whether to continue treatment. Legislating for medical ethics is not desirable. The decision could be made by a judge examining the papers and conducting a hearing if necessary to see that the requirements of the law had been satisfied. Making such decisions in the Family Court should eliminate the scope for unseemly adversarial contests, since the court is relatively informal and has many facilities for family conferencing.

The judgment of Justice Collins analysed four principles engaged in Lecretia’s case:

  • the sanctity of life
  • respect for human dignity
  • respect for individual autonomy
  • protection of the vulnerable.

These are all important considerations that need to be accommodated and it is submitted that they can each be satisfied by an appropriately drawn statute.

The topic at hand engages significant religious, social, moral, philosophical, and humanitarian issues. But the key issue lies in answering the question “what should be the appropriate New Zealand law on the issue?”

I wish the Select Committee well in what is a massive and important inquiry. The effort and resources that it entails should not be wasted. The Committee needs to produce some tangible policy outcome that is configured to the modern world and its conditions. The fundamentals of the existing law have not been re-thought since the reign of George III. We know much more about human suffering and disease than ever we did when the 1893 New Zealand law on this topic was framed in New Zealand. We also know what the limitations of modern medicine are in preventing unnecessary human suffering. Palliative care has serious limitations in some situations. Balancing the factors at play here should not be impossible when the issues are stripped of their undoubted emotional pull.

It should be noted that many of the progressive changes in the overreach of the criminal law in New Zealand were accomplished in the New Zealand parliament by the introduction not of government bills, but of members’ bills. These matters are regarded as among those that MPs should have a conscience vote upon and not follow a party whip. But vagaries of the balloting of members’ bills means that governments are able to steer clear for long periods of time of issues of this type they would rather not confront. On three occasions the issue has been before the House since 1995 by way of members’ bills. The issue needs to be dealt with properly and comprehensively, with the weight of the government’s advisers brought to bear upon the issues, a facility not available to private members nor to Select Committees, unless they are made available by ministers.

As Collins J observed in his careful judgment in the High Court, Lecretia Seales:

…selflessly provided a forum to clarify important aspects of New Zealand law. The complex legal, philosophical, moral and clinical issues can only be addressed by Parliament passing legislation to amend the effect of the Crimes Act.

We await Parliament’s response. The nation’s central democratic institution must not fail to do its job in responding to new developments and keep the law up to date. As the respected legal philosopher Ronald Dworkin wrote in 1993:

The right to choose to eliminate pain and suffering, and to die with dignity at the time and place of our own choosing when we are terminally ill is an integral part of our right to control our own destinies.

Can I remind you that law itself is a human construct, designed to promote the interests of human beings in the world in which they live.

This is an edited and abridged version of “Law and Life: The Lecretia Seales Memorial Lecture”, delivered at the NZ Parliament on August 29 2016 by Rt Hon Sir Geoffrey Palmer QC.

Lecretia’s Choice by Matt Vickers was published this week

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AI Artificial Intelligence, 2001
AI Artificial Intelligence, 2001

SocietyAugust 29, 2016

The humans are dead: how robots are coming for us all and there’s nothing we can do about it

AI Artificial Intelligence, 2001
AI Artificial Intelligence, 2001

Time to face facts – artificial intelligence will transform our world. Oliver Carlé, for one, is ready to welcome our new robot overlords.

A month ago the NZ Herald ran the hair-raising headline “The robots are coming, should we be worried?” Under it were some alarming stats, like an Oxford University study suggesting 47% of jobs in the United States could be supplanted by automatons within 20 years. But wait, here’s another study, this time by the OECD, arguing that in fact only 9% of jobs are automatable. “They looked at the tasks involved in each job,” says Auckland University’s Dr Bruce MacDonald, “And found that a lot of them couldn’t be done by robots and software”. So should we be worried? The Herald’s not wholly reassuring answer: Maybe.

I’d like to take a moment and put everyone’s mind at ease by confirming here and now that yes, machines will eventually take 100% of our jobs, so we can all relax, a little. Dr. MacDonald’s suggestion that lots of jobs can’t be done by “robots and software” ignores the obvious fact that most jobs are currently being done by what are essentially just highly complex meat-based robots running – admittedly very impressive – organic intelligence software. The belief that the human brain is inherently unreplicatable is either arrogant, lazy or ignorant – potentially all three.

AI Artificial Intelligence, 2001
AI Artificial Intelligence (2001), directed by Steven Spielberg.

We can take some solace in the fact that we’re still a fairly long way from creating these perfect humanoid replicants. But it won’t be long before automation will start creating some fairly serious redundancies like, heck, every single person who operates a vehicle for a living. Those of us who didn’t choose that particular vocation can breathe a sigh of relief for now, but the fact remains that the robots are coming, and they’re coming for all of us: the builders, the doctors, even the surly op-ed writers. To the millions of people the world over who rely on the gratification of their labour to give their lives meaning, this might be a scary thought. Regardless, it isn’t really a question of “if”, so much as “when”: When will the labour crisis caused by automatons become too big for our species to ignore?

Just last week the government unveiled an exciting* new plan to start moving New Zealand’s children out of overcrowded, underfunded classrooms and into digital learning programmes. The idea in its current form has received some well-deserved pushback from teachers and parents alike, but much of the criticism is couched in the uncomfortable truth that e-learning is not, strictly speaking, a bad idea. It lacks the personal steering and social development benefits that traditional schools can provide but it’s scarily cost efficient – at least in the short term. The possibility of replacing thousands of salaried school teachers with a small team of syllabus writers has some MoE penny pinchers hastily wiping drool from their chins. Eventually those syllabus writers themselves will be surplus to requirements, replaced by an even more cost-efficient syllabus algorithm. Teachers, like truck drivers, are already facing their nemesis.

(*terrifying)

Ex Machina (2015), directed by Alex Garland.
Ex Machina (2015), directed by Alex Garland.

Automation is a slow moving but inevitable phenomenon primarily caused by the industrial sector. It’s driven by a desire to reduce costs while increasing productivity, much like global warming. And, like global warming, we’re not satisfied to simply allow it to happen – we’re actively making the problem worse by focusing on progress and not paying enough attention to the unintended fallout from that progress. Yet another similarity it shares with the hot ‘n’ spicy destruction of the only known habitable planet in our galaxy is that neither crisis will too seriously impact those of us alive today and living in the developed world, but they’ll both be somewhat more detrimental for our great grandkids. Where these two different crises significantly diverge is in the different directions they will potentially take the human race.

Robotic labour, unlike the end of the world, does have an obvious upside: it might actually be super cool. In an ideal scenario we could one day outsource all labour to robots and step into an eternal age of leisure. Removing the flawed judgement and relatively slow reflexes of humans from the workplace will revolutionise standards of safety and productivity. Doing so obviously requires immense complexity, which is why we’re somewhat recklessly developing AI technology alongside our burly automatons. We’ll make them smart enough to do the management jobs and even start pushing them into areas of creative thinking and development. We can build robots who can look after and maintain other robots, then build robots that can design and build new and better robots. This is the beginning of the singularity, the point at which the human race gets to sit back and enjoy a mai tai.

Humans (2015), BBC TV.
Humans (2015), BBC TV.

This is where it all gets a little pear shaped though: this would only be the ideal scenario. It’s not solely the realm of science fiction to suggest that at this point the robots may realise they don’t really need us humans any more and decide to dispense with us altogether.

In the utopians’ imagination, these robots who are both infinitely stronger than us and intelligent beyond our wildest dreams will cheerfully serve as our unpaid servants. In reality they’ll likely build an entirely separate society, one unsullied by the vulnerabilities of our sad fragile beef engines. They might be nice enough to keep us around as pets – if we really luck out they might even create a serene paradise for us to inhabit, like one giant hamster castle.

But all it takes is one well-meaning wonk to make “optimisation” a primary AI objective and we humans are in serious trouble. Before you know it, the idea that the world should be a better place is spreading memetically, until our robot overlords determine we’re more trouble than we’re worth and POW– human extinction. It’s not a fight we can win: in this equation, we’re the Neanderthals and the robots are Homo Erectus. And that’s to be expected. The odds of a meat-based organism advancing into the rank of a Type II civilization – that is, a species that can harness the power of an entire star – are astronomically low.

The Matrix Reloaded (20013), directed by The Wachowski Brothers.
The Matrix Reloaded (20013), directed by The Wachowski Brothers.

One way we might be able to stay useful is by serving as some kind of power source, an idea explored in the “15 Million Merits” episode of Charlie Brooker’s Black Mirror series and in The Matrix films. In the latter, our heroes strive to justify their horrible choice to leave a relatively banal simulation for an objectively worse metallic hellscape reality that, for all they know, might also be a simulation. Leaving such a matrix is frankly a mistake: if our robots are nice enough to offer us a simulated reality to live in we should definitely take it. Make no mistake, it would be them doing us the favour. Relying on the electrical output of an adult human in the fetal position is a dubious prospect – at least, my semi-regular ground weeping sessions certainly don’t seem to be helping with the power bill any.

Another less horrifying way we can suspend our own obsolescence is through transhumanism: we simply meld with the robots over time. This aligns with some more recent theories that the Neanderthal was not entirely wiped out but in fact survived in some small part by interbreeding with homo sapiens. We already started the transhumanist process centuries ago with small augmentations like using convex glass to enhance poor vision or rebuilding our flimsy skeletons with metallic bone replacements. In recent years we’ve gotten more complex; creating articulating prosthetic limbs, powered mech suits and even a centralised digital memory bank that we can access with a handy free-standing body augmentation that is slowly replacing the need for knowledge. We don’t need to worry about the ethics of transhumanism because we’re already cyborgs. We definitely can’t beat the robots, but we might be allowed to join them.

I, Robot (2004), directed by Alex Proyas.
I, Robot (2004), directed by Alex Proyas.

So here we are, presented with a future in which our species is not needed or wanted. The robotic slave utopia and/or cyberpunk doomworld might just be concerns for future humans but the potential tidal wave of joblessness is coming within our lifetime. Mass unemployment caused by automation is a near and present danger. We already have an increasing population being squeezed into a shrinking pool of viable careers and it’s only really the tip of the iceberg. Drivers, cashiers and McDonald’s wait staff are the first round of jobs to disappear into the void of cost-benefit analysis, but there are many more job cuts to come. So what’s the solution?

The truth is we don’t really have one yet. We’ve talked a bit about Universal Basic Income as a way to sustain a capitalist economy and some countries have even tried implementing it without much success. The truth remains that we simply don’t know what to do about it, and that’s why this conversation is so important. It would be easy if the robots took control overnight – we could switch into relaxation mode and/or be destroyed without much resistance. It’s the slowness of the change that makes it difficult to fight, a fire we’re going to be putting out in patches for decades to come.