As MPs prepare to vote on whether to legalise “Assisted Dying”, I have today written to all Members of Parliament to set out my concerns. This is what I said: As a Rabbi, I have often been entrusted with the task of offering some measure of comfort to patients and their loved ones in the final moments of their lives. Yet, invariably, I find that I am the one who leaves feeling deeply inspired. In those moving moments, when every act and every word is so precious, I have encountered some of the most extraordinary examples of grace and dignity. The pursuit of that dignity is of course a familiar theme in the campaign for “Assisted Dying,” which, as you know, now finds its expression in the Terminally Ill Adults Private Member’s Bill, which receives its second reading this Friday. Though I do not believe that the latter should be considered a suitable route to the former, I would like to acknowledge at the outset that the quest to bring peace to those who are suffering unimaginable pain is a noble one, undoubtedly rooted in compassion and empathy. Though I fundamentally differ with the proponents of this Bill, I have nothing but respect for the deep humanity which has clearly motivated them. In our daily prayers, Jews declare our belief that the soul given to us by God is pure, that He instils it within us, and that eventually He will take it from us at the right time. We believe that life is a sacred gift bestowed upon us by God, and that it should always be treasured as such. Yet, I readily acknowledge Lord Falconer’s recent assertion that a minority religious perspective should not be imposed on others. In my view, this is an issue which transcends the concerns of faith communities. It presents a fundamental moral challenge to our society which I believe should trouble people of all faiths and none. Whilst of course, I would not presume to dictate to a person suffering unbearable pain at the end of their life, ahead of the Parliamentary debate about a Bill which could be among the most consequential of our time, I feel a moral obligation to express deep concerns about its implications. The granting of a right to end one’s own life, would simultaneously impose a new and immeasurable pressure upon terminal patients, who are already extremely vulnerable. Placing before a person the ultimate choice between life and death calls for a decision which simply cannot be protected against all manner of external influences, regardless of the proposed safeguards. Data from the state of Oregon in the United States, which is often vaunted as a paragon of how assisted dying can work well, consistently shows that nearly half of terminally ill patients who have opted to end their life, cite the encumbrance upon their friends and family as one of their reasons. The emotional or practical strain that we place on those around us would never be considered a factor in determining the value of our lives in any other context and we must not allow it to be so in the case of a terminal patient. In Belgium and the Netherlands, where assisted dying has been legal for some time, it did not take long for “mental anguish” to become considered a legal and legitimate cause for assisted dying. Soon after that, it became legal to end the lives of children who are too young to fully comprehend what is happening to them. It is hard to hear that and not to conclude that the line between dying and killing is becoming blurred. I know how much has been invested in attempts to build protections into the Bill against this ‘slippery slope’. But developments in other countries show that once the law itself concedes that actively taking a person’s life is justifiable, we cross a moral Rubicon, beyond which new red lines can be easily erased and redrawn multiple times. The “medicalisation” of death, in which assisted dying becomes just another treatment option available to a patient, represents a major paradigm shift in the values that underpin our society. The purpose of Medicine is, and has always been, to heal and ease pain – never to end life. The effect of this Bill would be to alter the ethical landscape in which doctors work forever, even for those who might choose to opt out. It is surely not inconceivable that, in the course of time, financial and capacity constraints within the health system could become relevant considerations, thus turning life into a commodity like any other. The burden that this Bill would place on our most vulnerable patients, on their families and on medical staff, as well as the profound effect on the conscience of those left behind, is surely too high a price to pay. The devastating evidence from other countries is clear: when we numb, or remove altogether, our reverence for the precious gift of life itself, we withdraw from a moral standard to which we will never return. Dame Cicely Saunders wisely said, “You don’t have to kill the patient in order to kill the pain”. Indeed, I am told that in most instances, it would be possible to remove end-of-life suffering with high-quality palliative care but currently, according to a recent report, around 100,000 people in the UK die each year without receiving the end-of-life care that they need. Surely, a campaign for universal access to the best possible palliative care should be the way forward. Over the years, I have heard countless heart-rending stories of those desperate to take control of the end of their lives and to end their suffering by ending their lives. No decent person could fail to be moved by their experiences. Yet, my appeal to you is on behalf of those whose stories will never be heard – those who would never let it be known, that if not for the emotional or financial burden they felt they had become, they might just choose life.