Grieving mother dies in Swiss assisted suicide clinic

There are two ways to respond to Duffy’s suicide. The first is to recognize that a tragedy has been added to a tragedy; a death to a death. Duffy did not need to die. She desperately needed help to cope with her grief and loss. The second is the reaction of the staff at the Swiss suicide clinic, which affirmed her suicidal ideation as a “sane suicide” and stated that her death was business as usual. Duffy paid the clinic £10,000 for her death.

“I can confirm that Wendy Duffy, at her own request, was assisted to die on 24 April and that the procedure was completed without incident and in full compliance with her wishes,” Pegasos founder Ruedi Habegger told the Daily Mail. “I can also confirm that neither we nor any of the professional staff assessing her mental capacity had any doubt as to her intention, understanding and independence of both thought and action. In historical terms, at English law, hers was a case of ‘sane suicide.’”

“Sane suicide” is a medieval legal term — not a statutory definition — that referred to someone committing suicide in full, deliberate knowledge of what they were doing.

According to the Daily Mail, Duffy had previously informed her family of her plans, including her two brothers and four sisters. “I will call them when I get to Switzerland,” she said. “It will be a hard call where I’ll say goodbye and thank them. But they will get it. They know. My life, my choice. I wish this was available in the UK, then I wouldn’t have to go to Switzerland at all.”

It is that last remark — that she wished suicide had been easily available in the UK — that media outlets promptly fixated on. As the Guardian noted on the day of her death:

The case comes as assisted dying legislation in England and Wales, branded “hopelessly flawed” by opponents, ran out of time to be passed by parliament, though the circumstances of Duffy’s death would not have been within the scope of any proposed legislation in the UK. Pegasos Swiss Association, a nonprofit organisation, was founded by Habegger, a right-to-die activist, in 2019.

Note that even though the proposed assisted suicide bills in England and Wales and Scotland would not have permitted Duffy to commit suicide-by-doctor in her hometown, her death in a Swiss suicide clinic is immediately framed as a lack of access at home. Duffy wanted to commit suicide but was forced to travel for it. The implication is clear, if not explicit. Duffy’s case “comes” as the UK rejects assisted suicide; her dying wish was that it was “available in the UK.”

In fact, in the first iteration of the Guardian’s report, they did not even note that she would not have been able to commit suicide at home if the law had passed, prompting an amendment on April 27 “to add additional context stating that the circumstances in the case of Wendy Duffy would not have been within the scope of any proposed UK legislation on assisted dying.”

The Guardian did end its report, however, by offering up a suggestive case study that highlights the possibilities of a new and expanded suicide regime in the UK in the future:

In 2024, a 29-year-old Dutch woman was granted her request for assisted dying on the grounds of unbearable mental suffering. Zoraya ter Beek received the final approval for assisted dying after a 3 1/2-year process under a law passed in the Netherlands in 2002.

Euthanasia groups have been notably silent about Duffy’s death, perhaps recognizing that her suicide represents precisely the sort of “slippery slope” case that turned voters against the proposed legislation at Westminster and Stormont this year. But there is no doubt that they would have supported her, if they thought the public would let them get away with it.

Euthanasia activists were eager to pass a law — any law — because once euthanasia and assisted suicide were legalized in principle, they could set to work expanding the regime in practice. Those who voted against assisted suicide saw Canada as a cautionary tale. Euthanasia activists see it as the model to follow.