KENNETH ROY
on the politics of Megrahi’s life
expectancy
When I heard Dr Richard Simpson, the Labour MSP, question whether the justice secretary, Kenny MacAskill, had taken fully appropriate medical advice before his decision to release Megrahi, my mind went back 14 years, to the summer of 1995, and two deaths in custody.
Dr Simpson and I, independently, had a close professional interest in the cases of Kelly Holland and Arlene Elliot, who hanged themselves within a few days of each other while on remand in Cornton Vale prison, Stirling. Both girls were 17 years old, both were minor offenders, both had frequently self-harmed. The judge at the fatal accident inquiry described Kelly as ‘a disturbed girl’, while Arlene suffered from a psychotic illness. The last place either should have been was prison. Having trawled through the verbatim records of the inquiry, I wrote extensively about the cases.
Dr Simpson was then a partner in a local GP practice which acted as medical officer to the prison. Two days after Kelly’s death on 22 June 1995, he and his colleagues decided that Arlene was ‘coping well’ with the trauma of her friend’s suicide and that she should no longer be routinely observed as a suicide risk herself. On 26 June, Arlene was out sunbathing, laughing and joking. Later that evening, she hanged herself.
At the inquiry, Dr Simpson gave the following evidence:
‘I was staggered by her death, as I was by the death of Miss Holland. I mean, it’s really beyond comprehension why these things happen on occasions. One, you know, one feels really totally helpless when it does occur…Clearly, you know, one could put everybody at risk on to an SSS (Strict Suicide Supervision) system, or lock them up in cells which were totally ligatureproof and they would be free from self-harm, but the quality of their existence would be minimal. One just feels that this is a terrible tragedy, a waste of a life.’
He was asked whether, in hindsight, he was wrong to take Arlene off observation.
He replied: ‘I mean, I do regret this girl’s death, and if being on observation would have altered that, I would do anything to go back and put her on that. But if you are asking me would I have altered my decision, I wouldn’t have.’
No one thought Arlene Elliot would commit suicide. Nothing in her actions or demeanour in the days and hours before she died gave cause for concern. Dr Simpson, then, took a professional judgement which, on the evidence before him, was not only justified but humane. But then the unexpected happened. Arlene hanged herself. Did the voices she had been hearing – the voices which had been telling her to kill herself – did they return? We shall never know.
As most of us have observed for ourselves, people who are seriously ill – mentally or physically, it makes little difference – behave in the most extraordinary ways. They are constantly confounding the medical profession, if not by arbitrary and violent death as in the case of a schizophrenic girl in Cornton Vale prison, then by exceeding the boundaries of any sensible prognosis in the case of a terminal cancer. That is why this week’s debate on the life expectancy of Megrahi – a debate in which Dr Simpson has played a notable role – is so regrettable, even a little ridiculous.
The newspapers are claiming, as the Daily Telegraph put it yesterday, that ‘inmates are freed only if they have less than three months to live’. This is not quite true. Section 3 of the Prisoners and Criminal Proceedings (Scotland) Act 1993 gives Scottish ministers the power to release on compassionate grounds ‘those suffering from a terminal illness whose death is likely to occur soon’. A life expectancy of less than three months ‘may be considered an appropriate period’, but – and it’s an important qualification – the legislation is careful to avoid prescribing any fixed time limit. Nor could it reasonably do so. Fortunately, we are not yet in a position to arrange death by Scottish parliamentary motion or Daily Mail editorial injunction. Going on living, or choosing to hang ourselves, is a liberty enjoyed even by prisoners. Indeed, in the case of prisoners, it is the only liberty.
The suggestion in this week’s discussion of Megrahi’s prospects is that he may not be as far gone as we have been led to believe. There is, however, no mystery about the facts of his case; they are in the public domain for anyone who cares to look. In September 2008, he was diagnosed with advanced metastatic cancer of the prostate and the tumour was given a score of 9 on a scale of 1 to 10. He was told at the time of the original diagnosis that the cancer had already extended beyond the prostate gland into the lymph nodes and skeleton, and that the tumour was highly aggressive. A second opinion was sought from a consultant clinical oncologist, who confirmed the poor prognosis but added that prostate cancer was unpredictable in its nature.
Megrahi believed that medical professionals were ‘unwilling to be blunt about my longevity’, but by June this year noted that a consultant urologist ‘is pessimistic regarding my life expectancy, and expects my demise before the end of the year’. By that stage, he was failing to respond to treatment.
If we accept that Megrahi is desperately ill and likely to die soon, and if we also accept that the conditions governing the compassionate release of prisoners are not as hard and fast as opponents of Megrahi’s release have claimed, what is this week’s discussion about Megrahi’s life expectancy really about? Dr Simpson neatly put his finger on it during questions to the justice minister on Monday: ‘If he lives for much longer than three months, it will add to the insult to American families and others’. In other words, his longevity could become a source of greater distress and embarrassment.
But what does Dr Simpson mean by ‘much longer’? Would three months and three days be acceptable to the American families and the un-named others? How about five months and six days? When does Megrahi’s continued existence on this planet become intolerable? I do not ask these questions in any spirit of flippancy. They are likely to become the bread and butter of renewed press outrage if Megrahi is still alive on Thursday 12 November, 12 weeks after his release from Greenock prison. The possibility of this low morality being visited on us is truly dreadful.
27 August
31.08.09
Issue no 133
THE BBC AND
KENNY MacASKILL
Kenneth Roy
Can the public service
broadcaster be trusted?
[click here]
THE LOCKERBIE FILE
Recently in SR
In the interests of justice
28 August
[click here]
Die or else
27 August
[click here]
The changing mood
26 August
[click here]
Speed reacting
25 August
[click here]
The weekend of unreason
24 August
[click here]
Marina and her sister
21 August
[click here]
Why Megrahi will be missed
20 August
[click here]
Obstruction of justice?
13 August
[click here]
GALLERY
Contemporary Scottish art
Michael Murray:
The Hidden Lane
[click here]
In view of the continuing political crisis in Scotland, SR continues to publish daily for the time being
