In 2021, the number of Canadians who ended their lives by assisted suicide increased by over 32 percent from the previous year. CityNews reported on Amir Farsoud, an Ontario man suffering from chronic back pain and therefore eligible for MAID (medical assistance in dying). Farsoud told the reporter that his pain wasn’t the reason he applied. “I don’t want to die,” he said, but explained that, facing the prospect of homelessness, he felt he had no other option.

After his story went viral, Farsoud received an outpouring of public support, including a GoFundMe that raised over $60,000 (CAD). He later told CityNews, “The first time we spoke, I had nothing but darkness, misery, stress and hopelessness. Now I have all the opposite of those things.” Most people can agree that Farsoud’s death would have been tragic. He didn’t really want to die. But it wasn’t the act of willful death itself that was framed as the tragedy; it was his lack of freedom to choose something else. Among those who support MAID, the thinking goes that, if he’d been enthusiastic about dying, it could have been celebrated. For instance, Canadian fashion retailer Simons released a video, “All Is Beauty,” romanticizing the doctor-assisted death of a 37-year-old disabled woman, Jennyfer Hatch.

The slippery-slope argument is that there is no way to accommodate the wishes of someone like Hatch without also leaving someone like Farsoud vulnerable to external pressure. This is true. It is worth considering why it is true.