Peter Rhodes on one bill, two messiahs and the horrors of a flood-soaked Christmas
Cast your mind back. Remember when the phrase “politicians with convictions” meant a good thing?
Pity those poor souls who were flooded out by Storm Bert and whose homes will still be soggy, muddy and uninhabitable over yuletide. There are few things in life more unforgiving than contour lines on a map. As the Dickensian character Mr Micawber might have put it: “Live on the right side of the contour, result happiness; live on the wrong side, result misery.” I'd like to think the lucky, dry, warm folk of Tenbury Wells and suchlike flood spots will invite their sodden neighbours in for Xmas lunch and a warm-up. But who knows? The Xmas spirit does not always flow freely.
My old colleague and countryman, the late, great Phil Drabble, annoyed readers with a column declaring that he would be locking his doors and gates over Christmas and any unexpected callers could sling their hook. A lot of readers called him un-Christian but a few wrote to say they agreed entirely.
The Assisted Dying Bill heads merrily off into the committee stages. Historians may well wonder how it ever got this far. It did not appear in Keir Starmer's 2024 election manifesto and was only introduced to the Commons by the bizarre Westminster route of the MPs' lottery. This is law-making not by the will of the people but by tombola.
Can anyone explain how so-called “self-coercion” can be prevented? If terminally-ill people know that staying alive is costing their families £2,000 a week in care home fees, and assisted dying is on offer, the mental pressure to take the potion would be enormous.
And where will they find doctors willing to perform the task? I can't see a great rush of volunteers among GPs and hospital doctors. And those who seem most keen to become qualified death assisters probably need watching. I can see, within a few years, assisted dying being carried out not only by the NHS but by specialist practitioners working for charities or even private firms.
Maybe they didn't consult each other fully, but two of our local churches are hosting the same Handel masterpiece over the festive period. Two Messiahs, no queuing.
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