When I rule the world, we will all have a sane, legal, choice of death's time and place. Not everyone will make their own choice, but for those who wish to, it will be available.
Why must people be faced with detestable choices when they find themselves, for whatever reason, at the end of their rope? Blow your brains out and leave them all over the wall for loved ones to clean up. Die in a dirty stinking ally from a purposeful O.D. of drugs and/or alcohol. Drive your car off a cliff and leave others to identify the charred remains. Get in the bathtub and slit your wrists; only perhaps you don't do it just right, or perhaps some well-meaning friend comes along and finds you too soon, so you're left to struggle on with your disastrous life or try it again.
Why must those who chose the time of their passing, and those who love them, be forced into such indignity?
What do so many old people worry about?
Outliving their money. Outliving the effectiveness of their minds or bodies or both.
So why not remove those worries? If we outlive anything, and chose to go, we can. With dignity and serenity.
When I rule the world, there will be The Utopia Center available to you. It will be very much along the lines of Hospice, but with certain key differences. You check in to a pleasant, quiet room, and nothing can happen for 24 hours. It seems to me that a certain time to reconsider should be mandatory. At the appointed time, if you have had no change of heart, the end process is put in motion. If you wish to have loved ones with you, they can be there. If you prefer to be alone, it's OK. They have a choice of CDs with music for you to play if you wish, or perhaps you choose to bring a favorite of your own. You lie peacefully on the bed and are gently administered some drug cocktail which will carry you painlessly away. I know Switzerland has something similar, but you have to have two doctors determine that you are terminal with some awful disease, or something like that. Why? Why can't I simply say, I've had enough. For whatever reason. I'm ready to go. I shouldn't have to explain or apologize. It's my life; now I'm ready for my death.
What worries a place, a process, like that would relieve us of, would it not? Oh I know I am portraying a very simplified version. There would of course need to be controls re: coercion, undue influence, minors and third parties, to name but a few. But we could do it. But we never will. Religion, alas stands firmly between us and my sincerely held vision of Utopia, or at least one aspect of it. I fear it always will.
October 2014
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