Euthanasia and abortion are moral decisions, not just medical procedures
TIMES OF MALTA Sat 14-6-2025
Source https://timesofmalta.com/article/when-compassion-masks-convenience.1111310

Medicine has advanced significantly, and palliative care now provides ways to ease physical pain, improve emotional well-being, and support patients and families throughout the dying process. Photo: Shutterstock.com
On May 7 this year, the Maltese government introduced a consultation process on specific euthanasia, or mercy killing, mostly of the terminally ill. It is doing this a little more than two years after it tried to legalise abortion, the deliberate killing of unborn children in their mothers’ wombs, again mostly for specific purposes.
In modern ethical debates, euthanasia and abortion are often promoted as acts of compassion – one to relieve unbearable suffering, the other to protect a woman’s autonomy and future. But beneath this surface of sympathy lies a deeper, more troubling reality. In both cases, life is ended deliberately, and often not because it is necessary but because it is convenient.
A closer examination reveals a shared moral crisis, rooted in irrationality, deceit, and convenience.
Irrationality can show the fragility of the suffering. Supporters of euthanasia claim that people have a right to end their lives if they are suffering from a terminal illness. But the critical question is: Can a person in such agony truly make a rational decision? Pain, depression, fear, and hopelessness cloud the mind. A person nearing death may not be thinking clearly – their desire to die could be a symptom of despair, not a reasoned conclusion.
Even worse, society risks validating temporary desperation with a permanent solution. Medicine has advanced significantly – palliative care now provides ways to ease physical pain, improve emotional well-being, and support patients and families through the dying process.
I saw all this when my daughter, in her mid-20s, a fresh graduate from the University of Malta, was dying from terminal cancer. We, her family, and she, knew she was going to die a year before she died.
During that year all the staff of the oncology department of the Ministry of Health and the staff of the Hospice Movement gave her very good, professional care with passion and devotion, and we, all the members of family, were with her, comforting her, day and night, till the last moment of her life. She died quietly, serenely and peacefully, comforted by her father’s, her mother’s and her brother’s embrace. She never said, or quietly hinted, that she wanted to die before her time.
Another relative of mine just came out of a coma after three months. Subtle suggestions to end her life were not uncommon during her temporary illness.
By offering death as an “option”, we subtly tell the vulnerable that their lives are no longer worth living.
There can also be deceit, the quiet pressure of others. In both euthanasia and abortion, outside influence is often hidden under a veil of choice. A terminally ill patient may be nudged toward euthanasia by others who stand to benefit, whether emotionally, socially, or financially. A subtle suggestion here, a legal form there and soon, a decision that seems voluntary is tainted by the intentions of others.
By offering death as an ‘option’ we subtly tell the vulnerable that their lives are no longer worth living– Tony Mifsud
The same holds true for abortion. Women facing unplanned pregnancies are often told, explicitly or implicitly, that abortion is the responsible or even expected course of action. A young woman with academic dreams might hear: “You’ll ruin your future.” She may be led to believe that her success requires the elimination of the life inside her, one that is helpless, voiceless, and wholly dependent on her protection.
When life-and-death decisions are made under pressure, can we still consider them free choices? Or are they acts shaped by deceit, not of malice but of a culture that prioritises convenience over conscience? This culture is very prevalent in Malta at present.
Much of the drive behind both euthanasia and abortion comes down to avoiding difficulty. Caring for a dying loved one is painful, costly and emotionally draining. Carrying a pregnancy to term, especially in challenging circumstances, can feel overwhelming. But these are the moments that test the depth of our compassion, the strength of our convictions and the value we place on human life.
When we choose death over difficulty, we send a chilling message: life is worth protecting only when it is easy to do so.
The language of ‘rights’ and ‘dignity’ used to justify both euthanasia and abortion often masks a darker truth – that society is increasingly willing to discard those who are inconvenient: the terminally ill, the unborn, the elderly, the disabled – the very people who need our compassion the most. We are also seeing this in Malta with the exploitation of migrant workers.
At this moment, Maltese society has a challenge to choose courage over convenience. If we claim to be a compassionate society, we must rise to meet this challenge by caring for those who are suffering, not by killing them. We must ensure that the dying are supported and comforted, not encouraged to surrender to despair. We must support pregnant women with real alternatives, not lead them to believe that their only path to freedom lies in ending another’s life.
Euthanasia and abortion are not just medical procedures or personal choices. They are moral decisions that reflect how the Maltese see human life itself, not just when it’s strong and healthy, but when it’s fragile, inconvenient, or dependent. And the measure of a just Maltese society is not how it treats the powerful but how it protects those who cannot protect themselves.
Tony Mifsud studied politics and social affairs at Oxford.