What Religions Say About Euthanasia and Assisted Dying

Desmond Tutu spent his life fighting for human dignity. He was the Anglican Archbishop of Cape Town and won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1984 for his work against apartheid. His church, like most churches, opposed assisted dying.

In July 2014, Tutu wrote an article in The Observer that surprised many people. He wrote about his friend Nelson Mandela, who was shown on television near the end of his life, frail and silent. Tutu called it "an affront to Madiba's dignity." Then he wrote one short line that became famous:

"I revere the sanctity of life – but not at any cost." — Desmond Tutu, 2014 (The Observer)

He made clear that these were "my personal opinions and not of my church." He also wrote about something many people avoid: planning. He had talked with his youngest daughter, Mpho, about his funeral: the hymns, the prayers, who should preach. He wanted his ashes kept at St George's Cathedral in Cape Town. He wanted a plain wooden coffin "with the rope handles," because he was worried that families go into debt over funerals. Money, he wrote, "should be spent on the living."

Two years later, on his 85th birthday, he went further. In The Washington Post he wrote that he did "not wish to be kept alive at all costs." He hoped to "pass on to the next phase of life's journey in the manner of my choice" (BBC News). He asked a question aimed at people of faith: "Regardless of what you might choose for yourself, why should you deny others the right to make this choice?" (DW).

Tutu's story shows the tension at the heart of this page. A person can hold deep faith and still disagree with their church. Another person of equal faith can look at the same suffering and say: we must care, but we must never kill. This guide explains what each major tradition teaches, where they agree, where they split, and what research shows about faith at the end of life. It does not tell you what to believe.

The world's faiths differ on God, the soul and the afterlife. On dying, they share more than most people expect. Four ideas come up again and again.

1. Life is a gift, not a possession. In Judaism, Christianity and Islam, life belongs to God. Buddhism, Hinduism, Sikhism and Jainism teach respect for all life and warn that killing harms the one who kills (through karma, the moral effect of actions). So most traditions reject deliberately ending a life, even for kind reasons.

2. There is a difference between causing death and allowing it. Almost every tradition accepts that a dying person may refuse treatment that is "burdensome" or "disproportionate." This means treatment whose harm is greater than its benefit. Stopping a breathing machine when recovery is impossible is not seen as killing. The illness causes the death.

3. Pain relief is good, even if it might shorten life. Many traditions use the "doctrine of double effect." This is the idea that an action with a good aim (easing pain) can be right even if it has a bad side effect that is foreseen but not intended. The Catholic Catechism says painkillers may be used "even at the risk of shortening their days," if death is "not willed" (Catechism 2279).

4. Care for the dying is a duty. Faith communities built many of the world's first hospitals and hospices.

In October 2019, these shared ideas were written down. The idea came from an Israeli rabbi and doctor, Avraham Steinberg, who took it to Pope Francis (Vatican News). Jewish, Muslim and Christian leaders then signed a joint paper at the Vatican. It called euthanasia and assisted suicide "inherently and consequentially morally and religiously wrong." In the same paper, they said it is "justified" to withhold treatment that "would only prolong a precarious life of suffering," and they supported palliative care "everywhere and for everyone" (Position Paper, 2019).

An analogy. Think of a river flowing toward the sea. Most religions say you may stop building dams to hold the river back. You may make the journey gentle. But you may not dig a new channel to make the river reach the sea sooner.

Not everyone accepts this line. In 1975 the philosopher James Rachels argued in the New England Journal of Medicine that letting a patient die can be just as deliberate as killing. If the goal and the result are the same, he asked, why is one allowed and the other forbidden (Rachels, 1975)? Religious ethicists reply that intention matters. Accepting death is different from aiming at it. Our ethics and philosophy section looks at this debate in depth.

The Catholic Church has the most detailed written teaching of any faith on this question.

The core rule. The Catechism says direct euthanasia "is morally unacceptable," "whatever its motives and means." It calls "an act or omission" that causes death "in order to eliminate suffering" a "murder gravely contrary to the dignity of the human person" (Catechism 2277). Note the word "omission." For the Church, the key test is intention, not whether you act or hold back. Stopping food or care in order to cause death is still forbidden.

What is allowed. The very next paragraph allows stopping treatment that is "burdensome, dangerous, extraordinary, or disproportionate." This is "the refusal of 'over-zealous' treatment." The Catechism explains: "one does not will to cause death; one's inability to impede it is merely accepted" (Catechism 2278). The patient makes this decision if able.

The 2020 letter Samaritanus bonus. The Vatican's doctrine office restated the teaching in a long letter named after the Good Samaritan. It calls euthanasia "an intrinsically evil act, in every situation or circumstance." It also says the Church must care for people "until the very end," using the phrase "to cure if possible, always to care." It adds a pastoral rule: a person who has formally decided on euthanasia cannot receive absolution (forgiveness in confession) or the anointing of the sick unless they show they are changing that decision. But it says this "does not imply a judgment" on the person's guilt, which may be "diminished or non-existent" (Samaritanus bonus).

Pope Leo XIV in 2026. On 27 September 2026, the first American pope spoke at Lourdes in France, a shrine many sick pilgrims visit. France had just passed a law allowing assisted dying. The law was published on 19 August 2026, but it is not yet in use. One of its authors expects it to start in early 2027 at the earliest (BFMTV). The pope called legal assisted death "false compassion" and said: "What is legal is not necessarily moral" (AP via PBS). He also spoke to sick people directly: "you are not a burden" (Aleteia). He had earlier criticised the law that took effect in his home state of Illinois on 12 September 2026.

Catholic countries are changing anyway. In October 2025, Uruguay became the first country in Latin America to legalise assisted dying by an act of parliament. The BBC reported that "most opposition came from the Catholic Church." Cardinal Daniel Sturla, the Archbishop of Montevideo, warned that the law "contributes to thinking that some lives are disposable" (BBC News). Colombia and Ecuador, also mainly Catholic, had already allowed the practice through court rulings rather than new laws. The Uruguayan bishops said they supported "palliative care that cares for and accompanies the patient with dignity." Uruguay is one of the least religious countries in the region: 47% of people say they have no faith (OSV News).

What Catholics think. Church teaching and lay opinion are not the same. In a 2025 Pew survey, 59% of US Catholics said assisted death was morally acceptable or not a moral issue. About 40% called it morally wrong (Pew, 2026).

Mostly yes, with important exceptions. Protestant churches have no single leader, so each denomination decides for itself.

Churches that oppose. Pew summarised church positions in 2013. Many large churches oppose assisted suicide and euthanasia. They include the Southern Baptist Convention, the Assemblies of God, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, the United Methodist Church, the Seventh-day Adventists and the Latter-day Saints. The Episcopal Church passed a resolution in 1991 calling it "morally wrong and unacceptable to take a human life in order to relieve the suffering caused by incurable illness." Yet each of these churches also says that treatment which only prolongs dying is not required. As a Lutheran ethicist put it: "Allowing something to happen is different than actively hastening death" (Pew, 2013).

Churches that support choice. Some liberal churches take the opposite view:

• The Unitarian Universalist Association passed "The Right to Die with Dignity" in 1988. It says human dignity "may be compromised when life is extended beyond the will or ability of a person to sustain that dignity" (UUA).
• The United Church of Christ supports the right of terminally ill people to decide, including whether to hasten death (Pew, 2013).
• The United Church of Canada said in 2017 that it is "not opposed in principle" to assisted dying for terminally ill people. But in 2020 it argued that the law should keep a rule that death be "reasonably foreseeable," to protect disabled people. It also urged caution on mental illness (United Church of Canada, 2020).

Orthodox Christianity opposes euthanasia. It teaches that suffering can have spiritual meaning, and that life and death belong to God. Representatives of the Patriarchates of Constantinople and Moscow took part in the 2019 Vatican joint declaration (Pontifical Academy for Life).

The UK vote in 2026. On 11 September 2026, MPs rejected the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill for England and Wales by 286 votes to 270. An earlier version had passed the Commons in 2025, then ran out of time in the House of Lords. Evangelicals, the Church of England, Catholics and disability groups had campaigned together against it. More than 1,000 Church of England clergy signed one letter against the bill. Sarah Mullally, now Archbishop of Canterbury and once England's chief nurse, wrote that "it is hope, not fear, that should guide us" (Christianity Today). But Christians did not all agree. George Carey, a former Archbishop of Canterbury, changed his mind in 2014. He had followed the case of Tony Nicklinson, a man with locked-in syndrome (fully paralysed but conscious). Even inside the Evangelical Alliance, some church members spoke in favour of the bill.

Hospice began as a Christian answer. Dame Cicely Saunders, who converted to Christianity as a young woman, opened St Christopher's Hospice in London in 1967. It was the world's first purpose-built modern hospice (Wikipedia). She opposed legal euthanasia and worried that a "right" to die could feel like a "duty" to die. Her answer to dying people was this:

"You matter because you are you. And you matter to the last moment of your life." — Dame Cicely Saunders (Acton Institute)

Key scripture often cited: "You shall not kill" (Exodus 20:13); humans made in God's image (Genesis 1:27); God as the giver and taker of life (Deuteronomy 32:39). Christians who support choice often point instead to Jesus's command to love your neighbour, and to his compassion for the sick. Opponents answer with the Good Samaritan, who stopped to care for a wounded stranger; the Vatican named its 2020 letter after him.

Mainstream Islam forbids euthanasia and assisted suicide. Life is a trust (amanah) from God, not something a person owns.

The Qur'an. Scholars often cite "do not kill ˹each other or˺ yourselves" (4:29) and "kill not anyone whom God has forbidden, except for a just cause" (6:151). They also cite 5:32: whoever saves one life, "it will be as if they saved mankind entirely" (Ghaly, 2022).

The 1981 Islamic Code of Medical Ethics. This early code was clear: a "doctor shall not take a positive measure to terminate the patient's life." But it also said that if life cannot be restored, it is "futile" to keep a patient going by artificial means: "the aim is to preserve life not to prolong the dying process" (Ghaly, 2022).

Withholding futile treatment. Most scholars and councils allow this. Professor Mohammed Ghaly of Hamad Bin Khalifa University lists rulings that permit it. They come from the Saudi Council of Senior Religious Scholars (1989), the European Council for Fatwa and Research (2001), the Islamic Organization for Medical Sciences (2004) and the Islamic Fiqh Academy (2015). The usual conditions are strict. The illness must be incurable and terminal. The treatment must do more harm than good, or no good at all. Three trustworthy doctors should confirm this. Keeping a dying patient on machines can "conflict with the core Islamic values of mercy and compassion," he writes. A minority of scholars disagree. They say only God knows what is truly incurable.

Brain death. In 1986, the International Islamic Fiqh Academy of the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation, meeting in Amman, accepted brain death as death in Islamic law, by majority vote. A Saudi fatwa in 1989 (No. 12086) set out when resuscitation is not needed (Chamsi-Pasha & Albar, 2017).

What Muslims living in the West think. A 2018 study by researchers at KU Leuven interviewed 30 Moroccan Muslim women in Antwerp, Belgium, one of the countries where euthanasia is legal. Both first- and second-generation women showed "an absolute rejection of every act that deliberately terminates life," based on belief in the afterlife and God's power over life and death (Ahaddour et al., 2018). This was a small, qualitative study, so it shows views in depth, not how common they are. Evidence: early.

In practice. Islam encourages relief of suffering and allows pain medicine even if it may shorten life. Families are urged to be present, and prayers are recited. None of the countries that currently allow euthanasia or assisted suicide has a Muslim majority.

Jewish law (halakhah) places enormous value on every moment of life. Saving a life (pikuach nefesh) overrides almost every other commandment, even the Sabbath. But Judaism also has a rich tradition about not prolonging dying. The movements now give different answers.

Orthodox Judaism forbids active euthanasia and assisted suicide as forms of killing. A dying person (goses) must not be hastened toward death. Yet the Talmud also tells a story often read the other way. As Rabbi Judah the Prince lay dying in great pain, his students' prayers seemed to hold him in life. His maid, seeing his suffering, threw a jar from the roof. The startled students stopped praying, and he died. The tradition honours her for acting out of love. Supporters of assisted dying cite this story. But earlier rulings answered that Jewish tradition "declares consistently and unequivocally against euthanasia" (CCAR 5783.1). Orthodox rabbis still hold that view.

Israel's clever compromise. In 2005, Israel passed the Dying Patient Act after six years of work by a committee led by Professor Avraham Steinberg. It forbids active euthanasia. It allows patients to refuse treatment. But Jewish law treats stopping a running treatment differently from not starting a new one. So the law allows a ventilator to be connected to a timer. When the timer stops, the next cycle is simply not restarted (Steinberg, IMAJ; Ravitsky, BMJ 2005). Bioethicist Vardit Ravitsky called timers a way of "bridging the gap" between respect for a patient's own choices and the community's cultural values.

Conservative Judaism changed in 2020. In 1997, the movement's Committee on Jewish Law and Standards voted 21 to 2 (with one abstention) to forbid assisted suicide. On 16 November 2020, the same committee approved a new ruling by Rabbi Elliot Dorff, by 9 votes to 5, with 2 abstentions. It says providing aid in dying is permitted (muttar) in limited cases where it is legal, but never required. It also says doctors who object should refer patients to others (Dorff, 2020). In the Conservative movement, more than one approved ruling can stand, so some rabbis still follow the 1997 view.

Reform Judaism has also moved. The Central Conference of American Rabbis issued Responsum 5783.1 (Hebrew year 5783, 2022-23). It begins by admitting that "all halachic precedents prior to the modern era have rejected" medical assistance in dying. It then concludes, "with sadness," that for "some few individuals" this must "remain an option." It says a Jewish doctor's decision to help can be "justifiable" (CCAR 5783.1). The ruling relies on Cicely Saunders's idea of "total pain": suffering that is physical, emotional, social and spiritual at once.

What Jews think. In the 2025 Pew survey, 76% of US Jews said assisted death was morally acceptable or not a moral issue (Pew, 2026).

These traditions see life as one part of a long cycle of rebirth. So how a person dies, and their state of mind, matters a great deal.

Buddhism. The First Precept is a promise to "abstain from taking life." Damien Keown, a leading scholar of Buddhist ethics, wrote in The Lancet in 2005 that "euthanasia is rejected by most Buddhists as contrary to the First Precept, which prohibits intentional killing. This applies even when motivated by a compassionate desire to relieve suffering." But Buddhism follows "the middle way." He adds that there is no "moral obligation to preserve life at all costs," so futile treatment can be refused (Keown, Lancet 2005).

Buddhism has no central authority, so views differ. The philosopher Roy Perrett argued in 1996 that the agreement between Buddhist and Christian views is not as solid as it looks (Perrett, J Med Ethics 1996). In 1996 the news agency AFP reported the Dalai Lama as saying it is "better to avoid it." But he also said that mercy killing might be acceptable in "certain exceptional circumstances." His example was a person in a coma with no hope of recovery (as quoted by the Myanmar Medical Association).

Buddhists value a clear mind at death, because they believe it can lead to a better rebirth. Keown notes that some Buddhist patients may refuse strong painkillers or sedatives for this reason. This is worth knowing if you care for a Buddhist relative. What about killing out of kindness? Keown's answer is careful: "while compassion is always a morally good motive, it does not by itself justify whatever is done in its name."

Hinduism. There is no single Hindu authority. Many Hindus believe that ending life early disturbs karma: suffering may be the result of past actions, and escaping it now may only delay it. Others stress ahimsa (non-violence) and duty (dharma), which depend on a person's stage of life.

The scholar Shirley Firth wrote in The Lancet in 2005 that suicide is frowned on. Yet "there are religious grounds for voluntary euthanasia, especially for spiritually advanced individuals." She notes that in Hindu tradition, enlightened people of the past were allowed to choose the time of their death. She also recalls that Mahatma Gandhi, a champion of non-violence, said he could not bear to let a rabid dog die a slow and painful death (Firth, Lancet 2005). Firth also describes an old tradition of a chosen death at the end of life for spiritual reasons, which Hindus see as different from suicide.

India's courts. India, a mostly Hindu country, allowed "passive euthanasia" (withdrawing or withholding life support) in 2018, but active euthanasia remains illegal. The path began with Aruna Shanbaug, a Mumbai nurse whose case reached the Supreme Court in 2011. On 11 March 2026, the Supreme Court approved withdrawal of treatment for the first time, for Harish Rana, a man in a vegetative state since a fall in 2013. His father said: "This is a difficult decision for our family but we are doing what's best for Harish" (BBC News).

Sikhism. Sikhs believe life is a gift from God (Waheguru). BBC Bitesize, which teaches Sikh beliefs in UK schools, explains that "only Waheguru decides when life should end," so taking life interferes with God's hukam (will or order). Many Sikhs also believe suffering can have spiritual meaning linked to karma (BBC Bitesize). Some Sikhs accept stopping futile treatment, and compassion is a core Sikh value.

Jainism. Jains hold the strictest form of non-violence of any major faith. Yet Jainism also has santhara (also called sallekhana), a vow of fasting at the end of life by people who feel their life's purpose is complete. Jains see it as a calm, spiritual decision, not suicide. In August 2015, the Rajasthan High Court ruled it illegal, after a petition argued that some elderly people were pressured into it. Tens of thousands of Jains protested (VOA). India's Supreme Court then stayed (paused) that ruling (Oxford Human Rights Hub). The case shows the same worry found in every debate: is a choice truly free?

Confucian ethics. Confucian thought, strong in China, Korea and Japan, stresses filial piety: the duty of children to honour and care for their parents. In practice, this can push families toward more treatment, not less. A review in Critical Care noted that filial piety can make it hard for adult children to stop life-prolonging treatment for a parent (Li, 2013). In China, doctors often discuss treatment with a family member instead of the patient, and that relative may choose "rather aggressive options" (Yang et al., 2022). The family often decides together, not the patient alone.

Indigenous traditions. Views vary greatly between Indigenous cultures, and no single statement can speak for them. Each tradition should be understood on its own terms. The best guide is to ask the person and their family.

Most do, but not all. Secular views are not one single position.

The case for choice. Humanists UK campaigns for a law that covers both people who are terminally ill and people who are incurably suffering. It calls the issue "a fundamental matter of individual choice and dignity" (Humanists UK). Secular thinkers often argue that laws in a diverse society should not rest on religious beliefs that many citizens do not share. Religious people stay free to refuse assisted dying for themselves.

The numbers. In the 2025 Pew survey, 95% of atheists and 93% of agnostics said assisted death was morally acceptable or not a moral issue (Pew, 2026).

Secular objections. Some of the strongest critics are not religious. Disability-rights groups such as Not Dead Yet argue that legal assisted dying sends a message that some lives are worth less. The group says it fights "the dangerous idea that some lives are not worth living" (Not Dead Yet). In January 2021, three UN human rights experts (Gerard Quinn, Olivier De Schutter and Claudia Mahler) raised the alarm. They said a law allowing death for people who are not at the end of life rests on "ableist" assumptions. This means judgments about the value of a disabled person's life (UN experts, 2021). In Canada, people whose only condition is mental illness are still excluded from assisted dying. On 7 October 2026, the government said it will bring in a law this autumn to keep this exclusion in place indefinitely. Parliament must pass it before 17 March 2027, when the exclusion would otherwise end. The justice minister cited "serious concerns" about whether such requests can be assessed safely. The same bill is expected to allow some advance requests, which Catholic and pro-life groups criticised (CBC News; Catholic Register).

On the other side, Ezekiel Emanuel and colleagues published a major review in JAMA in 2016. In no jurisdiction did they find evidence that vulnerable groups were receiving euthanasia or assisted suicide at higher rates than the general population. Typical patients were older, white, well-educated and had cancer (Emanuel et al., JAMA 2016). Critics reply that the data come mostly from official reports and may miss subtle pressure. Evidence: mixed — the data are real but limited, and both sides read them differently.

Yes, and research measures it. Here is what the best studies show, with their limits.

Faith shapes opinion. In Pew's 2025 survey of 8,937 US adults, 59% of those who said religion was "very important" in their lives called assisted death morally wrong. Among people who said religion was "not at all important," just 8% did. White evangelical Protestants (60%) and Black Protestants (52%) were most likely to call it wrong (Pew, 2026). Evidence: strong for the link between religiosity and opinion, which shows up in survey after survey.

Faith shapes doctors. A national survey of 1,144 US physicians found that 69% objected to physician-assisted suicide. Among highly religious doctors, 84% objected, against 55% of those with low religiosity. Doctors with more experience caring for dying patients were also more likely to object (Curlin et al., 2008). Evidence: strong, though this survey is from the 2000s.

Faith shapes the last week of life. A study in JAMA followed 345 patients with advanced cancer until death. Those who leaned heavily on their faith to cope were far more likely to receive intensive life-prolonging care, such as a breathing machine, in their last week: 13.6% against 4.2%. After adjustment, the odds were about three times higher. They were also much less likely to have a living will: 29.4% against 68.1% (Phelps et al., JAMA 2009). The study was in the US, and it shows a link, not a cause. Evidence: mixed to strong.

Spiritual care from the medical team changes the picture. Follow-up work by Dr Tracy Balboni's team at Dana-Farber found something hopeful. When patients felt the medical team supported their spiritual needs, their odds of using hospice were about 3.5 times higher. Among the most religious patients, this support was linked to more hospice and less aggressive care at the end (Balboni et al., J Clin Oncol 2010). A 2013 study of 343 patients found that those strongly supported by their religious community received more aggressive care and more often died in intensive care. But when the medical team also gave spiritual support, those patients used more hospice and had less aggressive care (Balboni et al., JAMA Intern Med 2013). Evidence: early to mixed — observational studies from one research group in the US.

What this means in plain words. Faith does not only shape views on euthanasia. It shapes whether people talk about dying at all. Hope for a miracle can lead to more machines and less comfort at the end. A chaplain, or a doctor willing to talk about faith, can help people find peace with their choices, whatever those choices are. Our palliative care section explains how this kind of whole-person care works.

In most places where assisted dying is legal, doctors can refuse to provide it. This is called conscientious objection. The harder question is whether they must refer the patient to someone else.

What faiths say. The 2019 Abrahamic declaration says "no health care provider should be coerced or pressured to either directly or indirectly assist" in a patient's death (Position Paper, 2019). Samaritanus bonus also defends conscientious objection by Catholic health workers and institutions. On the other side, Rabbi Dorff's 2020 ruling says doctors who oppose aid in dying should still refer patients, because "reasonable, moral people disagree" (Dorff, 2020).

What one court said. In Ontario, Canada, Christian doctors challenged a rule requiring an "effective referral." This means a good-faith referral to a doctor or agency that does not object. In May 2019, the Ontario Court of Appeal upheld the rule. It found that the rule did limit religious freedom, but that this was a reasonable limit. The rule did not force doctors to take part themselves. The court called it "a compromise" that strikes "a reasonable balance between patients' interests and physicians' Charter-protected religious freedom" (2019 ONCA 393).

What France decided in 2026. Catholic hospitals and care homes asked France for a conscience clause that covers a whole institution, not just one doctor. In August 2026, France's Constitutional Council accepted this, with a condition. A facility's management may refuse to take part, but only if patients have another option nearby. The Council also said the individual right to refuse covers pharmacists, not only doctors and nurses (BFMTV). Both France and Ontario tried the same balance: protect conscience, but do not leave the patient with nowhere to go.

Ask yourself: If you were a patient, would you want to know your doctor's beliefs before you needed them? If you were a doctor, where would you draw your own line?

Many families include a devout grandparent, a secular adult child and a teenager still deciding. Conversations about dying can feel like a test of faith or of love. These steps can help.

1. Ask before you assume. Do not guess what someone's religion requires. A Catholic may accept stopping treatment. A Muslim may accept strong pain relief. Ask: "What does your faith mean to you right now?"
2. Separate the two questions. "Should the law allow assisted dying?" is different from "What would I want for myself?" Many people answer them differently. Tutu himself separated his personal wishes from his church's position.
3. Bring in a chaplain or faith leader early. Hospital chaplains are trained to support people of every faith and none. Research above suggests spiritual support from the care team is linked to more comfort-focused care.
4. Write your wishes down. An advance directive (a document stating what treatment you do or do not want) protects your beliefs if you cannot speak. Most faiths allow refusing burdensome treatment, so a directive rarely conflicts with religious teaching. Check your own tradition's guidance.
5. Name the fear of being a burden. This fear appears in Saunders's writing, in Pope Leo's words at Lourdes and in disability-rights warnings. Saying it out loud lets a family answer it.

Questions to reflect on:

• When you imagine a good death, who is in the room? What is said?
• Is there a treatment you would refuse because of your beliefs? Is there one you would insist on?
• If someone you love believes differently, can you respect their choice and still grieve it?

If you are reading this because you feel you are a burden, or you are struggling to go on, please talk to someone today. Feeling this way is common in serious illness and in grief, and it can be eased. You can find free, confidential support on our help page.

Desmond Tutu lived for seven more years after his 2014 article. He died in Cape Town on 26 December 2021, at the age of 90 (NPR). South Africa's president called him "a patriot without equal."

In the days that followed, thousands of people filed through St George's Cathedral in Cape Town. They came to see the coffin he had described years before: "small, simple," with rope handles, chosen "to avoid any ostentation or lavish expenditures." After a requiem mass on New Year's Day, his remains were to be placed in the cathedral itself (NPR). It was the place he had named in 2014. At a service in Cape Town on his 85th birthday, he had told the congregation: "I would like to rest here, permanently, with you" (DW). The man who had asked hard questions about dying had also done the quieter work. He had talked with his family. He had written down his wishes. People honoured them.

Tutu never claimed to speak for his church. He spoke as one believer, wrestling in public with an old question. Pope Leo, Rabbi Dorff, Professor Ghaly, Dame Cicely Saunders and the humanists are wrestling with it too. They do not agree. But almost all of them agree on this: no one should die alone, in pain, or feeling they do not matter.

Whatever you believe, that is a place to start. For how the law treats these choices around the world, see our legal landscape section.