Belgium is mooting an unprecedented law that would allow the voluntary euthanasia of children.

Voluntary euthanasia is intentionally ending a life, with a patient’s consent. Different forms of this are legal for adults in Belgium, the Netherlands and Luxembourg, although there are differences in the grounds on which it is allowed, for example if someone is terminally ill.

In Belgium, doctors can actively take part in someone’s death. But misconceptions about voluntary euthanasia make extending this to children a bad proposal. Here are four of them:

Euthanasia’s the only way to end suffering

This is untrue. Given modern palliative care (which is likely to be available in any European jurisdiction in which active euthanasia is proposed), there is simply no need for euthanasia. Pain and much-feared symptoms such as choking can all be controlled effectively.

Pro-euthanasists love stories about people going screaming to their deaths. The stories are out of date, and it is disingenuous or ignorant, as well as alarmist and unkind, to let people believe it’s inevitable.

In the vanishingly rare cases of suffering that cannot be palliated using orthodox techniques, it is always possible to sedate the patient to unconsciousness and withdraw food and fluids (sometimes referred to as “passive euthanasia”). This leads to a painless death in a few days.

You could say that it is intellectually dishonest to cause death in this way and deny a quick death by lethal injection, but many feel that there is a distinction of great moral weight between causing death by an act (for example an injection) and causing death by omission. That distinction has proved its worth in the law of murder.

Children can make informed decisions

Let’s suppose, for the sake of argument, that there are no good reasons why the law shouldn’t permit the euthanasia of a fully capacitous adult. (In fact there are some very good reasons: I touch on some of them below). And if that is so, why children shouldn’t be the beneficiaries of a similar compassionate law.

Death, so far as we know, is terribly final. And if you’re opting for death, you need to be sure that you’ve got it right. This demands an understanding of many complex facts (such as prognosis – how your disease or condition is going to pan out – and your therapeutic and palliative options), and an evaluation of their significance. It’s hard for anyone; it’s likely to be impossible for children.

There’s lots of evidence to show that when we find ourselves in the situations we have most feared (for instance severe disability), we find that those situations are nothing like as unbearable as we anticipated. When we are stripped of much, we value all the more what is left. Try explaining that to a child.

If children can’t make an informed decision, perhaps also because they’re simply too young or too ill, they can’t be autonomous. Of course the decision-makers will usually be well-meaning, and will do their best to be well-informed and objective, but it is hard to be honest about one’s own motives.

Children won’t be pressurised into death

The argument that someone might be pressurised to choose to die is commonly used when talking about older people or those with dementia (also being considered in Belgium) who might be seen as a “burden”. For children, you might argue that they are less likely to be seen in this way. But children could easily think, or be actively or unconsciously persuaded, that they should opt for death because their illness causes trouble for their parents.

A child is the only relevant decision-maker

The autonomy argument for adults goes: “It’s my life and no-one has the right to tell me what to do with it.” This philosophy permeates and corrodes law and ethics because it doesn’t accurately reflect the way the world is. We’re relational entities. Everything I do affects someone. And in the context of the euthanasia of children, the following problems arise:

First, the death of a child (obviously) affects families, friends, carers and clinicians in many complex ways. The effects on others of my death ought to be factored into my decision to end my own life. Children won’t be able to do that when deciding whether or not to end their own lives. This again falls into the idea of informed consent.

Second, someone’s got to do the killing. That probably means doctors. If the law allows professional carers to become professional executioners, the medical profession will also be dangerously and irrevocably changed.

Charles Foster was counsel for the Society for the Protection of Unborn Children in R (Purdy) v DPP, and is counsel for Care Not Killing in the cases of Nicklinson and Martin, shortly to be heard by the Supreme Court. He is a patron of Living and Dying Well. This article was originally published at The Conversation. Read the original article.

Charles Foster is a barrister practising at 4-5 Gray's Inn Square, and a Fellow of Green Templeton College, University of Oxford, where he teaches Medical Law and Ethics. He is a Visiting Professor...