In early June 1963, a crowd gathered in the South Vietnamese city of Ho Chi Minh, as Thích Quang Duc was quietly set on fire. This act of suicide, and the horrific images that followed, was also an act of protest against religious oppression. Thích’s last words were not the letter he left behind, but this moment of self-immolation. Indeed, his act of protest is rarely, if ever, referred to as suicide, yet events such as these draw into question the extent to which liberty allows us to do with our lives as we please. Thinkers such as John Stuart Mill would have likely viewed suicide as a violation of social responsibility, personal liberty, and principles of do no harm. However, such black and white conclusions are not supported by the realities of personal suffering, politics, and social norms. This essay contends that while suicide is an act of personal autonomy, liberty does not, and should not preclude intervention when appropriate.
According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (2023), nearly fifty-thousand Americans took their own lives in 2022. Of these, the majority were overwhelmingly white, male, and 25 – 64 years old, with over half of those under the age of 45. In other words, men in the prime of life with plenty to live and work for. The devastation suicide brings to families and loved ones dominates the national conversation, and with good reason. However, our relationship to the act of suicide is entirely dependent on the circumstances and prevailing social norms. Consider, for example, the difference in sentiment between suicide as an outcome of PTSD versus relieving a terminal illness. In 2013, PEW Research found that 57% of adults would choose to end treatment if their illness were terminal. The same research found that 47% of adults approved of physician-assisted suicide, while 49% disapproved. It’s difficult to imagine such a plurality of opinion on PTSD-related suicides, yet such a conversation exists in other circumstances where a person chooses to die. Cultural and political perspectives play a critical role in our acceptance of suicide as well. Japanese fighter pilots, for example, were revered for flying their planes into Allied warships, and Muslim suicide bombers are believed to ascend to heaven for their deeds. In fact, such a complicated relationship is evident throughout history. Historian Philip Freeman (2011) writes in his book, Alexander the Great, that when the philosopher Calamus fell ill, rather than continue suffering, he chose to be burned alive in ritual suicide. Even at that time, writes Freeman, observers were divided on whether his act was one of bravery or pompous self-conceit (p. 306). Clearly, our reactions to any of these events is more dependent on the circumstances and political perspective from which they are viewed, than they are on the decision itself.
It is important not to conflate the emotional impact of an immediate death with the more acceptable decision to die slowly. However, while Mill might have condemned suicide, he would have done so for different reasons. As an avid libertarian with strong utilitarian sentiments, Mill recognized there were limits to the notion of self-determination. He writes,
Whenever, in short, there is a definite damage, or a definite risk of damage, either to an individual or to the public, the case is taken out of the province of liberty, and placed in that of morality or law (Collini, 2007, p. 82).
On the one hand, suicide would seem to satisfy both of Mill’s requirements. Tremendous harm can be done to the families and communities associated with the subject. On the other, Mill muddies the water when he says, “[No one] is warranted in saying to another human creature of ripe years, that he shall not do with his life for his own benefit what he chooses to do with it” (p. 76). Indeed, it is quite difficult to declare what is in another person’s benefit. As the example of Calamus showed, a person who is suffering will have a very different view of their best interests than people in their periphery. Furthermore, by Mill’s own logic, society ought to exercise a great deal of caution in matters that override personal agency.
Mill attempts to work through this dilemma by first acknowledging the inherent difficulty of predicting consequences (Collini, 2007 p. 80-81), and later by invoking the notion of liberty as an unalienable right. “The principle of freedom cannot require that [a person] should be free not to be free. It is not freedom, to be allowed to alienate [one’s] freedom” (p. 103). In other words, liberty cannot be used to sabotage liberty, even if it is our own. Indeed, this is a powerful argument for the immorality of suicide, but it is limited. Mill cites the example of slavery and the contradiction in voluntarily becoming a slave (p. 103). Yet in the case of suicide, there is no other person to whom the subject cedes their agency, even if the act of suicide is assisted by someone else. This philosophical logjam represents a critical gap in Mill’s definition of harm. At no point does he suggest that personal harm is anything other than physical, whether to the person’s body or their property. Yet we know that real harm occurs when an act of suicide is committed. Had Mill recognized emotional harm as legitimate, his arguments would more clearly support intervention and treatment.
Nonetheless, Mill’s arguments allow for broader definitions of harm and interventionalist mindsets. While he remains vague on the definition of personal harm, he invokes the individual’s Platonian obligation to society, writing, “[E]very one who receives the protection of society owes a return for the benefit…[by] each person’s bearing his share of the labour and sacrifices incurred for defending [society]” (Collini, 2007, p. 75). In this respect, someone who commits an irrational act of suicide could be said to have failed in their obligation to society itself. This is particularly true, as CDC data pointed out, in the case of young men who own the majority share of suicides. Mill goes further to suggest that individuals who are incapable of “self-government” should be protected from themselves (p. 80), and that individuals are obligated to dissuade each other from harmful decisions (p. 99). Certainly, a person suffering from severe depression could be said to be incapable of self-government. Intervention, in such a case, would be justified by preventing an irrational act of harm. In short, projecting Mill’s opinions on suicide could be read either way, however there is a clear case to be made that dissuasion and obligation to society lay the groundwork for intervention and treatment.
In summary, John Mill’s views of harm and obligation to society support the cause of dissuasion and even intervention when suicide is deemed likely. On the other hand, his views on liberty support the premise that human beings possess the agency to determine what’s in their best interests, and act accordingly, even if such action results in their own death. His views, therefore, while far from conclusive, allow for a variety of humane approaches to suicide, both interventionalist and in service to the relief of great suffering.
References
Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. (2023, August 10). Suicide data and Statistics.
CDC.gov. https://www.cdc.gov/suicide/suicide-data-statistics.html
Collini, S. (Ed.). (2007). J.S. Mill: On liberty and other writings. Cambridge University Press
Freeman, P. (2011). Alexander the great. Simon & Schuster
Pew Research Center. (2013, November 21). Views on end-of-life medical treatments. Pewresearch.org.
https://www.pewresearch.org/religion/2013/11/21/views-on-end-of-life-medical-treatments/