Snippet
Care
Change
Community
Easter
2 min read

A day without water tapped into the best of us

In a crisis, community seeps through our walls.

Imogen is a writer, mum, and priest on a new housing development in the South-West of England. 

On a doorstep a man hands a bottle of water to another man.

Recently on our housing development we experienced a surprising addition to our lives. Due to a pretty major error, a main water pipe was hit by a digger… this resulted in 24 hours of no running water for our entire estate and the local school while the pipe was repaired. 

24 hours is a long time. In our house, water consumption over that time looks something like this: 

  • 1 dishwasher cycle 
  • 1-2 clothes wash cycles 
  • 2 loads of dish washing up 
  • 2 boys in a bath 
  • 2 showers 
  • 10-15 toilet trips 
  • various hand washing, plant watering, child play etc. 
  • 4-6 bowls of boiled pasta/rice 
  • 8-10 cold water drinks 
  • 20+ cups of tea 

Let me tell you, 24 unexpected hours without water was a challenge. But it also got me thinking. 

It got me thinking about privilege. In the UK, access to clean water is not a daily conscious consideration, it is assumed. We assume that we will have water when we turn on the kitchen tap, when we flush the toilet, and when we run a bath. We assume that the water out of the taps will be clean and safe. This is not the case for everyone. Around the world, one in four people do not have access to safe drinking water. Access to water is a universal human right, but in reality access to water shows our privilege. 

It also got me thinking about simplicity. Lent is a time for reflection and often in the Christian tradition it is a time for fasting. In previous years, I have fasted from multiple things: coffee, chocolate, Instagram, and this year Vinted and meat. But I have never fasted from clean, running water. There were many household chores and to-do list items that I simply couldn’t do because we didn’t have water. As with other fasting attempts, I hope that this unexpected space led me to prayer. There was a temporary, reflective simplicity to the absence of water. 

And it got me thinking about community. Crises bring out the worst and best in humanity. Though I could tell you a couple of horror stories, instead let me tell you about the heroes. Tessa, Tom, Marjay, Sarah, Vineeth, Megan, Danny. These heroes went out of their way to buy and distribute water across the development, to monitor and communicate updates from the water company, to offer support with boilers. Several houses had bottled water piled outside their homes for anyone who had run out. We had multiple unexpected water deliveries and neighbours checking in. Our community thrived as we struggled without water. In a crisis, community seeps through our insulated walls and isolated lives. In a crisis, community swells and surges showing that there is indeed good in this world. 

I’m glad we’ve got our water back. But I’m also glad for all the thinking. 

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Article
Assisted dying
Care
Comment
Politics
5 min read

Suicide prevention groups are abdicating their responsibility on assisted dying

Not speaking out is a dereliction of duty to vulnerable people

Jamie Gillies is a commentator on politics and culture.

Three posters with suicide prevention messages.
Samaritans adverts.

On Friday, Kim Leadbeater’s assisted suicide bill will return to the Commons for a second day of report stage proceedings – when MPs consider amendments. Third reading, when the House votes on the bill itself, is expected to take place the following Friday. Opponents of this controversial bill will be hoping that enough MPs feel uneasy about it to say ‘this far and no further’. They will need around 30 MPs to have changed their minds since a vote last year in order for a defeat of the legislation to be assured. 

As politicians have weighed this issue, there’s been a conspicuous silence from one constituency you’d expect to have been outspoken: suicide prevention organisations. People might be surprised to know that Samaritans, perhaps the best-known suicide prevention charity in the UK, a cornerstone of prevention efforts since the 1950s, did not submit evidence on the bill before Westminster or a separate bill at Holyrood. Other groups like Suicide Prevention UK (SPUK) and Papyrus have also been silent. One has to wonder why, given the bearing a law change would have on their work. 

Suicide prevention charities and their volunteer counsellors do incredible work. Over the years, millions of people in desperate circumstances have received life-changing support. Today, every person contacting a suicide prevention helpline is told that their life has value, and that there is hope in the bleakest of circumstances. Every caller without exception is also told not to harm themselves. But this couldn’t continue under an assisted dying law. A two-track approach would have to be devised, depending on a caller’s circumstances. A scenario helps to illustrate this point: 

Caller: “I am thinking about ending my life”. 

Adviser: “Please know that there is hope. I’m here to listen and I can offer support, so you don’t have to make that choice.” 

Caller: “Well, I have terminal cancer you see…” 

Adviser: “Oh, sorry, I need to put you through to a colleague. Your situation is a bit more, err, complex. You need to know your legal rights”. 

Some proponents of assisted dying are quick to dismiss concerns about suicide prevention, arguing that assisted dying and suicide are wholly separate categories. However, this argument doesn’t hold water. Whilst campaigners use euphemistic terminology and employ Orwellian rhetoric about ‘exercising choice at the end of life’, and people ‘shortening their deaths’, it is clear that the bills they promote would permit suicide with the enablement of the state. 

An assisted dying law would see doctors prescribing lethal drugs to certain patients which they can take to end their own lives. The dictionary definition of suicide — “the act of killing yourself intentionally” — has not changed. Neither has legislation giving expression to this idea. Logically and legally then, assisted dying involves suicide. 

Samaritans is clear on this. A ‘policy brief’ on assisted dying published in November — the most recent statement on the issue by the organisation — begins by saying that it usually applies to terminally ill people and involves “assisting the person who is terminally ill to hasten their own death”, adding: “The act that kills them is performed by the person themselves”. Their death is a suicide, in other words. 

You might assume an organisation that says, “every suicide is one too many”, whose stated aim is to see “fewer people die by suicide”, would be opposed to assisted dying - or at the very least concerned about it. However, Samaritans goes on to say that it does not “take a position on whether assisted dying is right or wrong, or on what the law should be on this matter”. Why? Because it “would involve making a range of judgements” that could compromise people’s “perception of our ability to provide non-judgemental emotional support”. 

Samaritans and other suicide prevention organisations should be intensely interested in what the law says. The introduction of assisted dying in any part of the UK would mean suicides being condoned and enabled in healthcare settings for the first time — a radical departure from the existing approach. Professionals always counsel against suicide, no matter a person’s motivation for wanting to end their life. Every citizen is precious, and every life worth saving. 

Prevention organisations must also realise that a change of this gravity will have a wider impact on culture. Research shows a rise in non-assisted suicides in countries that have introduced the practice. Sending a message that some suicides are permissible might make their prevention work harder. Organisations saying nothing in the face of all this is astonishing. 

As noted above, assisted dying poses practical questions as well as philosophical ones. If the law changes, organisations will no longer be able to adopt a universal approach to suicide prevention. A call to a suicide prevention helpline from a terminally ill person will have to be handled differently to a call from a person who is not terminally ill. For some, suicide would be a healthcare ‘right’. How will organisations navigate this? Doesn’t it concern them? 

There has been some advocacy from individuals engaged in suicide prevention, if not from organisations. In February 2024 psychiatrists wrote to The Times to warn that the Westminster assisted dying Bill would “undermine daily efforts to prevent suicide”, particularly among the elderly. Louis Appleby, the UK Government’s suicide prevention adviser has also spoken against a change in the law, arguing that it would harm efforts to drive down suicides. 

Appleby explained, “once the principle behind suicide prevention has been set aside, once any part of the ground has been ceded — not only to allow suicide but to assist it — we have lost something we may not get back. There are countless causes of irremediable hardship, many reasons people may want to make despairing choices. Could they become exceptions to suicide prevention too?” This principled position is exactly what you’d expect from someone whose job is protecting hurting people, no matter their personal situations. 

I’m loath to criticise suicide prevention groups as I deeply appreciate their work. However, by not contributing to the debate on assisted dying, they are abdicating their responsibility to shape a policy that would impact their mission, and the people they serve. A policy that would lead to state-sanctioned suicides and impact culture in profound ways. It’s terribly sad to see groups that fight to end suicides failing to stand against a policy that would harm their work. Failure to speak today may be viewed as a dereliction of duty in years to come. 

With a final vote on Kim Leadbeater’s Bill days away, and the decisive vote on Scottish plans not due for months, there is still time for suicide prevention groups to enter the fray. I pray that they will.

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Since Spring 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,000 articles. All for free. 
This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?

Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

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