I’ve been quite overwhelmed by the response to my new blog. Many thanks to all of you who have so generously commented. Writing can be a lonely occupation and it’s reassuring to know there are real people out there who read and who care. I even had one email this week from someone in Canada who shares the same unusual surname – a rare affliction!

Thanks

But special thanks go to Lindsay in Glasgow who challenged me in an unexpected way. The exchange went something like this:
L: ‘Would you say you’ve got strong views on ethical issues?’
H: ‘Well, I’ve got strong views on the importance of debate about ethical issues, but the longer I work in this area the more shades of grey I see.’
L: ‘That’s what I thought from everything you write. So why does your blog say you have strong views on the actual issues?’
H: ‘I didn’t think it did.’
L: ‘I think it does. At the end of that interview about “Who’s your favourite author?”’

Of course, I went hot foot to my blog and that link to the said interview (stories-of-my-life). After all, my reputation’s on the line here. Even-handed, that’s me. Leave-the-reader-to-form-their-own-conclusions: that’s my style. Had I really been careless enough to shoot myself in the foot here?

Whoops! There it was.

Q. Do you have strong opinions on the ethical questions facing your characters?
A. Having worked in the field of ethics for decades, the more I know about these complex issues the more I’m conscious of the grey areas. When I get inside the skin of my characters facing difficult choices I see different perspectives which may require different solutions, because our value systems, beliefs and experiences influence what we see as right or wrong. In Right To Die, Adam is an analytical journalist weighing up the value of his disintegrating life. His mother is rigidly religious, with hang-ups about suicide. His GP is influenced by a strong professional moral code. Who’s right? Who’s to say? So the answer is, yes (my italics).

My reaction evolved slowly.
Stage 1. Chagrin. Mortification. Annoyance (with myself I hasten to add).
Stage 2. Pause for reflection. I try to think myself back. Why did I say that?
Stage 3. Apology to Lindsay with promise to do better in future.
Stage 4. Good night’s sleep. Subconscious works on issue.
Stage 5. Revisit original interview.
For once I’m glad I haven’t had time to tidy up the files on my computer. Because there it is!

The answer

The set of questions I’d been asked during that interview had inexplicably changed when they reached the printed page. The original question was:
Q. As a medical ethicist, are there any issues you are still uncertain about?
A: As above.
And of course the answer to that question is emphatically yes!

So a big thank you to Lindsay for giving me the opportunity to right a great wrong. And for a timely reminder of that paragraph in the 17th Century Nun’s prayer:

‘I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessing cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.’

Tags: ethical opinions, Glasgow, journalism, mistakes, Nun's prayer, Right to Die, Sunday Herald