Booker Prize-winning novel Amsterdam by Ian Mcewan is not really about euthanasia per se; it is about the twisted relationships between the two main characters, Clive Linley, composer, and Vernon Halliday, newspaper editor. Deeply affected by the death of their mutual friend and lover Molly Lane, Clive and Vernon agree that if they should ever exhibit the symptoms of some deadly illness, that they agree to assist the other in euthanasia. Thus, the two friends initially start out by presenting a view of euthanasia that is strongly ethical; euthanasia is a meaningful and sometimes even necessary means to alleviate unnecessary suffering. After all, life is already filled with enough suffering. Extension of life by a matter of days, weeks, or even years does not necessarily equate with promoting the values inherent to a good quality of life. As the events of the novel progress, however, Vernon and Clive demonstrate that their ethical reasoning is not as cogent as it appeared at the onset. Vernon and Clive reveal their ethical egoism, particularly in Vernon's wish to destroy Julian Garmony's career and in Clive's having a bystander effect problem. After a heated argument in which each one presumes moral superiority over his friend, Clive and Vernon turn their euthanasia compact into a means of murder. Doing so totally twists and distorts the meaning of euthanasia, and its less-likely-to-be-abused cousin, physician-assisted suicide. Mcewan therefore presents multiple points-of-view regarding euthanasia without offering a truly deep ethical analysis of how the practice can realistically go awry. The situation between Vernon and Clive is hyperbolic and for dramatic effect.

Therefore, Amsterdam shows more about its caddish, conniving characters than it does about the ethics of euthanasia. It is not the law itself but how it is used that is the issue, which is precisely why regulations are in place for when patients invoke their right to die with dignity. Sure, Vernon and Clive abuse their privileges, but in reality, the outcome of the story could scarce have happened in real life. Real euthanasia laws tend to avoid the kinds of problems that allow Vernon and Clive to carry out their nefarious schemes. Still, Mcewan builds tension delightfully, and showcases the egoism, harsh utilitarianism, and

Mcewan does not actually make a case one way or another for or against euthanasia. He shows how, using the example of Molly, physician-assisted suicide could have minimized her suffering and that this is precisely why physician-assisted death should be legal as it is in the Netherlands. At the same time, Mcewan shows how physician-assisted death can be abused -- if it is used in a coercive way, to replace patient autonomy, or in any way to violate ethical precepts. Ultimately, the reader comes away with a great sense of personal responsibility. If people are to be entrusted with the right to choose their manner of death, then when and how can the system delimit that right? The broader question is how to prevent abuses of power, not to take away the right of a person like Molly to die with dignity.
The euthanasia pact is a darkly humorous interjection into the debate. It has no legal bearing. Their plot could never reasonably be carried out the way it occurs in the novel; euthanasia is not designed to be a method of homicide. What Vernon and Clive do is simply order a hit on each other; that is hardly euthanasia and reading too much into the euthanasia theme would be doing a great disservice to the public health and bioethics committees that have worked so hard to have physician-assisted death made legal in countries like the Netherlands and Canada.

The faulty, self-righteous, egoistic ethics of…