Gutless politicians don’t speak for me on ethics

I am 19 years old and last Monday night there was a party at my friend’s house.

Last week's Q&A was not worth missing a party for.

Not just any party, but a holiday-launching, noise-polluting, parent-make-grumbling kind of party. There were girls too, lots of them. I didn’t go.

Instead I was stuck to the edge of my couch with my eyes glued to the television. They were going to talk about euthanasia on Q&A.

Two ministers would be obliged to disclose - wait for it - their feelings. No cue cards, no sound bites, just naked personal philosophy. Morals would be challenged and characters defended.

I was excited. How would they bumble across the ethical minefield of mortality? There are no easy slogans to fall back on in this game.

For: “If grandpa wants out, give doc a shout.”

Against: “If grandma’s well sad, well that’s just too bad.”

None in good taste anyway.

I was ready to love again after voting in my first election, bitterly underwhelmed by the whole process. But by the end of the show all I was left with was an all-too-familiar churn in my stomach when I realised that I had missed a night out with friends for a cheap show of bipartisan wussery.

Neither Liberal’s Christopher Pyne nor Labor’s Chris Bowen acknowledged the only ethicist on the panel’s plea for the empowerment of personal autonomy. Dr Leslie Cannold warned us that the practice is harder to regulate when criminalised and while applauded by the audience, she was ignored by the two lawmakers.

The conversation ended without Mr Pyne having to back up his vehement opposition to voluntary euthanasia with silly things like “evidence”. Oh don’t worry; he assured us that his “committed Catholicism” doesn’t encroach on his ability to govern for a supposedly secular state. That’s a relief.

We need to respect the values of others no matter what. After all, there are no right or wrong answers in morality.

Right? Wrong.It doesn’t take a 19-year-old professional cynic to work out that the term “conscience vote” is used by some parliamentarians as an excuse to not have to consider viewpoints other than their own.

Politicians routinely consult economists, spin doctors and even stylists to guide them through their day by day. So why are some so adamant that they know best about a concept too dense to be quantified?

Morality and mortality have their experts just like any other field.

Dual Australian of the Year nominee Dr Phillip Nitschke has met many palliative care patients who have been forced to inconveniently circumvent the law in order to escape a fate that they see as worse than death. Ignored.

Praised philosopher Peter Singer convincingly argues that human lives are worth no more than those of animals. By that token one could say that we are more humane to our whiskered friends by putting them to sleep instead of keeping them alive only to endure immeasurable pain and discomfort. Also conveniently ignored.

I’m the teenager. I’m the one who is supposed to be recklessly disregarding authority. Not those running the country. Think about this lack of respect for expertise among some of those who determine what we can and can’t do with our bodies.

Frightened? I sure am. I can’t stop playing hypotheticals in my head. My grandma is nearing the end and she may want to go her own way. Will the government force her to keep on breathing until her tired heart finally gives up?

Forgive me if I sound paranoid about that looming shadow of Big Brother creeping up behind me.

I turn 20 in February. Plenty old enough to vote, pay taxes and serve a life sentence. How can I properly immerse myself into adulthood knowing that the government is making my infinitely complex, self-discovering ethical decisions for me?

Furthermore, how can the government expect my generation to be actively engaged in the political process when the selective moralities of politicians go unchallenged? What a waste of time. I should have gone to that party.