Persons with dementia often prefer to participate in decisions about their health care, but may be prevented from doing so because healthcare decision-making law facilitates use of advance directives or surrogate decision makers for persons with decisional impairments such as dementia. Federal and state disability law provide alternative decision-making models that do not prevent persons with mild to moderate dementia from making their own healthcare decisions at the time the decision needs to be made. In order to better promote autonomy (...) and wellbeing, persons with dementia should be accommodated and supported so they can make their own healthcare decisions. (shrink)

Hastings Center Report, Volume 52, Issue 5, Page 24-31, September–October 2022.

Dear Norm,Thank you for sharing such a personal and heartfelt essay. I have been asked by the editors to comment. Reading it inspires me to do so in a similarly heartfelt way. Although I don't know you well, I thought I'd write to you as if you were my patient.I share your sense that Alzheimer disease is a terrible scourge. I've seen much of this disease over a lifetime of practice, and I deeply understand its ravages and the debility and (...) suffering it causes. But what you propose is not a good solution for the problems that Alzheimer disease poses for patients, families, and society. It will ultimately do far more harm than good. Please let me try to explain. (shrink)

Aid‐in‐dying laws in the United States have two important restrictions. First, only patients who are terminally ill, defined as having a prognosis of six months or less to live, qualify. Second, at the time the patients take the lethal medication, they must be competent to make medical decisions. This means that an advance directive requesting aid in dying for a later time when the patient lacks decision‐making capacity would be invalid. However, many people are more concerned about avoiding living into (...) severe dementia for years—a time when they will lack decision‐making capacity—than they are about preventing suffering or the loss of dignity or autonomy for a few months at the end of life.Gillian Bennett is an example of someone determined not to live into severe dementia. She opted for preemptive suicide in 2014, explaining why in a letter she posted online: “Every day I lose bits of myself, and it’s obvious that I am heading toward the state that all dementia patients eventually get to: not knowing who I am and requiring full‐time care.”A major problem with Bennett’s solution, however, is that the individual is likely thereby to be giving up some “good time.” A legal alternative to preemptive suicide is to create an advance directive stating the circumstances under which one wants not to receive any lifesaving or life‐sustaining treatment, even the most basic and noninvasive. This option is our focus in this paper: how to create effective advance directives to avoid living into severe dementia. To be relevant to progressive dementia, the directive would need to state what kinds of care should be withheld and when. At the same time, advance directives for severe dementia face serious challenges. Before addressing these, we review the normative force of directives themselves. (shrink)

Advance directives are critically important for capable individuals who wish to avoid the burdens of life-prolonging interventions in the advanced stages of dementia. However, this paper will argue that advance directives should have less application to questions about feeding patients during the clinical course of dementia than often has been presumed. The argument will be framed within the debate between Ronald Dworkin and Rebecca Dresser regarding the moral authority of precedent autonomy to determine an individual’s future end-of-life care plan. We (...) will use a brief analysis of the positions taken in two important papers that come out of the Dworkin/Dresser debate and a hypothetical patient, John, who will be followed from diagnosis of dementia to death, to show how advance directives should apply to key points in the progression of his disease, particularly in relation to food and nutrition. (shrink)

Agency is talked about by many as something that people living with dementia lose, once they've lost much else—autonomy, identity, and privacy, among other things. While the language of loss may capture some of what transpires in dementia, it can obscure how people living with dementia and their loved ones share agency through sharing capacities for memory, language, and decision‐making. We suggest that one consequence of adopting a framework of loss is that it makes the default response to changes in (...) agency the substitution of a family member's agency for the purported lost agency of someone living with dementia. We argue for an alternative framework in which sharing agency is recognized as a central feature of living with dementia. Building on the work of relational theorists, we argue for the value of thinking about agency in dementia as fundamentally shared, and explore potential implications for treatment, caregiver support, and building dementia‐friendly environments. (shrink)

Recent work calls for excluding clinical ethics consultants’ religious ethical commitments from formulating recommendations about particular cases and communicating those recommendations. I demonstrate that three arguments that call for excluding religious ethical commitments from this work logically imply that consultants may not use their secular ethical commitments in their work. The call to sever clinical ethics consultation from the ethical commitments of clinical ethics consultants has implications for the scope of work consultants may do and for the competencies required for (...) such work. (shrink)

BackgroundThe terminal illness of late-stage Alzheimer’s and related dementias is progressively cruel, burdensome, and can last years if caregivers assist oral feeding and hydrating. Options to avoid prolonged dying are limited since advanced dementia patients cannot qualify for Medical Aid in Dying. Physicians and judges can insist on clear and convincing evidence that the patient wants to die—which many advance directives cannot provide. Proxies/agents’ substituted judgment may not be concordant with patients’ requests. While advance directives can be patients’ last resort (...) to attain a peaceful and timely dying consistent with their lifelong values, success depends on their being effective and acceptable. A single flaw can provide opponents justification to refuse the directive’s requests to cease assisted feeding.AimThis article considers 24 common advance directive flaws in four categories. Process flaws focus on how patients express their end-of-life wishes. Content flaws reflect drafters’ selection of conditions and interventions, and how they are described. Inherent flaws can make advance directives unacceptable to authorities concerned about premature dying. Strategies are needed to compel physicians to write needed orders and to prevent third parties from sabotaging these orders after they are implemented. The article includes excerpts from “dementia-specific” directives or supplements that exemplify each flaw—mostly from the US and Europe. No directive critiqued here included an effective strategy to resolve this long-debated bioethical conflict: the past directive requests “Cease assisted feeding” but the incapacitated patient apparently expresses the desire to “Continue assisted feeding.” Some opponents to the controversial request, cease assisted feeding, use this conflict as a conceptual wedge to practice hard paternalism. This article proposes a protocol to prevent this conflict from emerging. These strategies may prevent authorities from requiring patients to fulfill authorities’ additional clinical criteria as a prerequisite to honor the requests in patients directives.ConclusionThis critique of flaws may serve as a guide to drafting and to selecting effective and acceptable advance directives for dementia. It also poses several bioethical and clinical questions to those in authority: Does your paternalistic refusal to honor patients’ wishes respect their self-determination? Protect vulnerable patients from harm? Force patients to endure prolonged suffering? Violate the principles of bioethics? Violate the very foundation of patient-centered care? (shrink)

Many people are worried about developing dementia, fearing the losses and burdens that accompany the condition. Dementia‐specific advance directives are intended to address dementia's progressive effects, allowing individuals to express their treatment preferences for different stages of the condition. But enthusiasm for dementia‐specific advance directives should be tempered by recognition of the legal, ethical, and practical issues they raise. Dementia‐specific advance directives are a simplistic response to a complicated situation. Although they enable people to register their future care preferences, in (...) many cases, those preferences will not, and should not, determine their later care. (shrink)

In the article “On Avoiding Deep Dementia,” Norman Cantor defends a position that I suspect many readers share. In my years writing and speaking on advance directives and dementia, I've found that most people support one of two positions. They are convinced either that advance choices should control the treatment dementia patients receive or that the welfare of a person with dementia should sometimes take priority over earlier choices. As Cantor points out, I support the second position.I agree with several (...) of Cantor's arguments. Where Cantor and I part ways is over the degree of control that advance directives should exert over the care of persons with moderate dementia. Although I don't welcome the prospect of living with dementia, I believe that people with the condition should be represented in the debate over treatment standards. It's not surprising that many, perhaps most, people unaffected by dementia think that their preferences should control the care they would receive as dementia patients. But people taking this position are neglecting the concerns and interests they may have as dementia patients. (shrink)

In “On Avoiding Deep Dementia,” Norman Cantor astutely notes that, for some individuals, the concept of “protracted maintenance during progressive cognitive dysfunction and helplessness is an intolerably degrading prospect.” This cannot be argued with. Cantor's solution, however—that in the wake of a dementia diagnosis, patients should have the option to direct, in advance, instructions for voluntary stopping of eating and drinking should they develop a state of deep dementia—is more ethically challenging than it may first appear.Respect for autonomy is one (...) of the most fundamental principles of bioethics, and it requires that we allow patients with capacity to refuse life‐sustaining treatment, even when that treatment is something as seemingly innocuous as nutrition and hydration. If a capacitated person uses an advance directive to prospectively refuse artificial nutrition or hydration, then that treatment must be withheld if the person develops dementia and loses the ability or willingness to eat. Cantor is incorrect, however, in suggesting that an advance directive can require that nutrition and hydration be withheld from a patient with dementia who actively requests to eat or drink. Regardless of the language in an advance directive, caregivers cannot be compelled to abandon their duty to attend to the person's human dignity, nor can physicians be compelled to sedate a person with moderate or severe dementia because that person continues to be receptive to eating and drinking. (shrink)

Advance directives for withholding life-saving treatment are controversial for dementia patients whose previously expressed wishes conflict with their currently expressed desires. To illustrate this ethical dilemma, McMahan conceives a hypothetical case in which an intellectually proud creative woman signs an advance directive stipulating her refusal to receive life-saving treatment if she contracts a fatal condition with dementia. However, when she develops dementia and forgets this advance directive, she contracts pneumonia and now expresses a desire to live. In response to such (...) dilemmas, scholars like Norman Cantor have defended the moral authority of advance directives by giving credence to one’s prior competent wishes over one’s current incompetent preferences. I argue that their arguments, which are rooted in the principle of respect for autonomy, operate under ableist assumptions about incompetent persons and exclude other important features of respect. I propose an ethics of care model as an alternative moral approach that reconceptualises respect as a matter of caring about people’s contemporaneous interests, even if they are not competently conceived. It fosters the virtues of care by encouraging healthcare providers to recognise dementia patients as legitimate narrative agents capable of authoring their own evolving life story. I argue that the ethics of care model not only provides an ethical defence of the creative woman’s current incompetent desire to live despite her advance directive, but also vindicates our moral intuitions about what it means to demonstrate respect to dementia patients. (shrink)

This paper revisits Ronald Dworkin’s influential position that a person’s advance directive for future health care and medical treatment retains its moral authority beyond the onset of dementia, even when respecting this authority involves foreshortening the life of someone who is happy and content and who no longer remembers or identifies with instructions included within the advance directive. The analysis distils a eudaimonist perspective from Dworkin’s argument and traces variations of this perspective in further arguments for the moral authority of (...) advance directives by other authors. It then critiques a feature of the eudaimonist perspectives within these arguments—namely, the position that dementia has a retroactive negative impact on what a person has previously valued—and challenges the commonly held assumption underlying them that a person’s life and well-being have relatively low value beyond the onset of dementia. Although advance directives have moral authority as a means of guiding one’s future health care, accounts that dismiss the value of the lives and well-being of people living with dementia should be questioned to the extent that such accounts are used to support the moral authority of advance directives stipulating measures to foreshorten individuals’ lives. (shrink)