The Philosophy of Euthanasia: Between Life, Death, and Dignity

- Ayushman Bose

Why is death not as beautiful as life itself? In its entirety, death culminates everything
that we are and have been - —our triumphs and battles, and the meaning we've
created. Although life may have no inherent meaning in an indifferent universe, our
search for meaning dictates both the way we live and the way we choose to die.

Ancient philosophy provides deep insights into what's death is.? Death was accepted by
the Ssamurai as a component of honour, and they would rather die honourably than live
dishonourably. This philosophy transcends cultures and centuries, from Buddhist
acceptance of impermanence to Stoic contemplation of mortality. These attitudes are
contrary to our contemporary hesitation to discuss death, and it seems that sometimes
opting for death could be an act of saving and not losing human dignity.

We come with nothing and leave with nothing. But in between, we create meaning,
establish connections, and construct legacies. The deep challenge of euthanasia is not
so much the choice to die, but how tothe dilemma of knowing when clinging on delays
the very dignity that's been established along the journey of life. Knowing your purpose
matters, but there is a greater meaning in life than the purpose itself.

The wisdom of letting go is critical in end-of-life affairs. When meaning is overwhelmed

The toughest awakenings are when we realize realise we've constructed our whole lives
on things we cannot't maintain. It is's especially the case in the euthanasia discussion
surrounding euthanasia, where the one’s right to die conflicts with our one’s
understanding of what's worth living for, which, again, is constructed by one’s
understanding of values and purpose..
Why is life worth it? Maybe Perhaps it is not how we live our lifeves but how we choose
to end itthem. As human beings, we may not choose when we are born, but we can
bask in the glory of dying on our own. As Emerson suggested, making other people's
lives breathe a little easier might be success in itself; —maybe even the courage to
exercise their right to die with dignity.

As Hemingway so eloquently put it, the best among us have "a feeling for beauty, the
courage to take risks, and the discipline to tell the truth." When it comes to
Eeuthanasia thus, that means facing the truth of death with courage, facing suffering
with integrity, and realizing realising that occasionally the most beautiful thing to do is to
let go.

When does a human know it’s time to let go? Consider those with locked locked-in
syndrome or progressive neurological deficits. Imagine being trapped in your own body.
Not gradually with an inability to prepare but suddenly and abruptly - - one moment
you're living, breathing, speaking, and you're as human as human can be, and the next
moment you're locked inside your own self. Your mind screams, but your lips don't
move. You're banging on the wall, and what seems to be in your reach is too far away.
Your heart aches to reach out, but your hands lie still. Are you still you? -Y you are're
thinking, feeling and loving, but you're watching life now through a glass wall which you
can't break through. We end up questioning purpose in life with a newfound urgency :
does human dignity only exist in mere survival, or in the ability to express one’s
essential essence?

The disconnect between mind and body raises fundamental questions about human
essence. Now, consider a brilliant writer who suffers a massive brainstem stroke,
leaving her with locked-in syndrome. She is —fully conscious yet unable to move
anything except her eyes. Family comes to visit her. She sees the anguish in her eyes.
She sees them struggle to understand her, the gestures, the blinks, and slight
movements. There she has a plethora of emotions and a universe fulls of thought inside
her that she wants to express, - memories she wants to share, jokes she wants to tell,
maybe even an “I love you” but they don'tnothing comes out. Is this truly living? Is that
still her?Can this still be called her life?

This profound division of mind from body compels us to face ultimate questions
regarding man's nature. While her consciousness persists, her capacity to engage in the
human condition is lost. In instances where there may be no crossing of consciousness
and body life, —when one is fully aware but nearly loses the ability to engage with the
world, —does the act of sustained prolonged existence fulfill the purpose of life or
extend only its mere semblance?

It is a harder question when we cannot predict forsee our own decline. As well asEven if
we might express our wishes in advance directives while we are still able, what ofabout
those moments when loved ones are left to trace our dignity through their love and
bereavement? The beautiful death we might arrange for ourselves can be a challenging
moral maze for those we leave behind, but does that mean it justifies holding on to
someone when the essence of what makes them human ceases to exist.?
Is it conceivable that the very concept of human dignity is not so much our capacity for
thought or action, but our capacity to acknowledge our own existence? When disease or
trauma removes this consciousness from us and —when the relationship between body
and mind starts to disintegrate, —we are confronted with the ultimate question: Is there
a moment at which prolonging life preserves not dignity, but merely the vessel it has
abandoned?

The complexity of advance directives stands in striking contrast to such cases. How can
one anticipate the unimaginable? A writer can imagine in their living will: "No
extraordinary measures if I cannot communicate.," but howwhat if technology allows
them to communicate through eye movement? How What if that communication, though
possible, constricts the full flow of their thinking into a trickle of yes-no answers? The
advance directive that was certain in health becomes uncertain in sickness. Relatives,
already under the burden of bereavement, must interpret whether their loved
one's previous wishes really anticipated their current condition.

Most challenging of all are the temporal dynamics of such decisions. An individual can
assert that he or shethey would not want to live if all avenues of communication
expression were stripped away, but when faced with the scenario, he or shethey can
discover new meaning in simply being existing for their loved ones, in having thoughts
though he or shethey cannot speak them. He or she They might, conversely, discover
the distinction between inner richness and outer expression more unbearable than he or
shethey could ever have imagined. The advance directive, calibrated in health, cannot
anticipate the subtlety of decisions faced in sickness.

Maybe the most significant implication is the way advance directives compel us to think
about our own mortality and to define our vital humanity when we are healthy. When we
execute these documents, we aren't simplyaim to decide more than deciding about
medicine while —we are stating what makes life worth living to usone, what dignity
ismeans to one, and where we one sets the line between living and beingsimply being.
But medical technology moves so rapidly, with such a continuous stream of new options
reshaping the terrain of what we are able to do and compelling us to reassess what we
had previously considered to be clear boundaries.

References
1. Hemingway, E. (1964). A movable feast. Scribner.
2. Kant, I. (2002). Groundwork for the metaphysics of morals (A. W. Wood, Trans. &
Ed.). Yale University Press. (Original work published 1785)