The Jurisprudence of Dignity: Navigating the Legal and Ethical Landscape of Euthanasia in India

The Jurisprudence of Dignity: Navigating the Legal and Ethical Landscape of Euthanasia in India

End-of-life care has always tested the boundaries of law, morality, and medicine. In India, these debates are no longer confined to academic seminars or courtroom theory; they increasingly emerge from real families trapped in years of pain, uncertainty, and financial exhaustion. A defining moment arrived on 15 January 2026, when the Supreme Court of India reserved its judgment in the widely discussed case of Harish Rana, a young man who has lived in a Permanent Vegetative State (PVS) for more than thirteen years. Unlike many purely procedural hearings, the case carried a rare emotional weight because the Court engaged directly with the human realities behind the file: the relentless caregiving, the prolonged medical dependence, and the draining cost of continuous support such as clinically assisted nutrition. The Bench led by Justice J.B. Pardiwala and Justice K.V. Viswanathan reportedly met the family to understand the ordeal beyond legal arguments. That approach reflects a deeper judicial recognition that euthanasia cases are not only about medical charts or constitutional clauses; they are also about dignity, compassion, and the limits of compelled survival.

Understanding Euthanasia: A Concept With Multiple Legal Meanings

The word “euthanasia” originates from the Greek roots eu (good) and thanatos (death), suggesting the idea of a peaceful or gentle end. Yet in modern legal systems, the term is far from simple. It covers a range of practices that differ sharply in intent, method, and legal consequences. The complexity arises because the law must distinguish between allowing death to occur naturally and actively causing death through intervention. This distinction becomes especially significant when the patient cannot communicate, recover, or exercise personal choice due to irreversible neurological damage. In such cases, the central question is not whether death is inevitable,medicine often confirms that—but whether the state can require life to be prolonged through technology when consciousness and recovery are absent. Therefore, euthanasia is best understood not as one act, but as a spectrum of end-of-life decisions that can shift from medically acceptable to criminally punishable depending on the nature of the action involved.

Active Euthanasia, Passive Euthanasia, and Assisted Suicide: India’s Clear Legal Line

India’s legal framework treats different forms of “mercy death” in fundamentally different ways. Active euthanasia, where a person deliberately administers a lethal substance to end life, remains prohibited. Indian criminal law views such an act as direct killing, regardless of compassionate motive, because it involves a positive action causing death. In contrast, passive euthanasia refers to withholding or withdrawing medical interventions that artificially prolong life, such as ventilator support, intensive resuscitation, or other forms of continued life support. India permits passive euthanasia under strict safeguards because the death results from the underlying illness rather than an external lethal act. A third category assisted suicide involves providing the means for an individual to end their own life, such as prescribing lethal medication for self-administration. Indian law continues to treat assisted suicide as an offence, maintaining the principle that the legal system should not enable self-destruction even if personal suffering is severe. This legal separation is the foundation of India’s “middle path” approach: the country allows nature to take its course in hopeless cases, yet it refuses to legalize deliberate killing as a solution to suffering.

Constitutional Foundations: The Rise of “Right to Die with Dignity” Under Article 21

The deepest legal argument supporting passive euthanasia in India flows from Article 21 of the Constitution, which guarantees the Right to Life and Personal Liberty. Historically, this right was interpreted largely as a protection against arbitrary deprivation of life, encouraging the state to preserve life wherever possible. Over time, however, Indian constitutional jurisprudence expanded the meaning of “life” beyond mere biological functioning. Courts began to treat dignity, autonomy, and humane existence as essential components of the right. This shift eventually created a constitutional opening for the idea that the law can protect not only the right to live, but also the right to avoid an undignified extension of dying. The landmark ruling in Common Cause v. Union of India (2018) crystallized this evolution by recognizing that the Right to Die with Dignity is not a contradiction of Article 21 but an extension of it. The judgment acknowledged that when medical science confirms futility and a patient’s condition is irreversible, forcing continued mechanical life support may reduce a human being to a biological process rather than a dignified personhood. This constitutional approach does not treat death as a right to be demanded on whim; instead, it treats dignity as a constant value that must guide decisions at the edge of life.

Judicial Evolution: From Aruna Shanbaug to Living Wills and the 2023 Simplification

India’s euthanasia regime developed primarily through court rulings rather than legislation. A major turning point came with the Aruna Shanbaug case (2011), where the Supreme Court first acknowledged the possibility of passive euthanasia for patients in a permanent vegetative state. The Court adopted a cautious stance, allowing withdrawal of life support only through judicial oversight and strict conditions. Later, in 2018, the Constitution Bench in Common Cause not only reaffirmed passive euthanasia but also recognized the legitimacy of Advance Medical Directives, commonly known as Living Wills. This instrument allows individuals to specify in advance that they do not wish to be kept alive through artificial means if they enter an irreversible medical state. However, early procedures were so complex that the right risked becoming symbolic rather than practical. Recognizing this gap, the Supreme Court issued further directions in 2023 to simplify the living will process, reduce procedural barriers, and shift the decision-making emphasis toward competent medical boards. The goal was to ensure that the constitutional promise of dignity did not collapse under paperwork and delays, especially when the patient’s condition demanded timely resolution.

Safeguards Against Misuse: The Two-Tier Medical Board System

End-of-life decisions operate in a zone where compassion can be vulnerable to exploitation. Courts therefore treat safeguards as essential, not optional. One of the strongest protections in India’s system is the two-tier medical board mechanism, designed to ensure that the decision is medically justified, independent, and free from personal interest. In practice, a Primary Medical Board first evaluates whether the patient’s condition is irreversible, whether recovery is realistically impossible, and whether continued treatment serves any therapeutic purpose. If the board concludes that treatment is futile, a Secondary Medical Board reviews the same case independently. This second review adds a crucial layer of caution and credibility, reducing the risk of errors, bias, or pressure. These boards are expected to weigh clinical evidence, neurological assessment, and ethical standards before authorizing withdrawal of life-sustaining measures. The system reflects a central idea: passive euthanasia is not meant to become a shortcut for convenience, but a carefully supervised response to exceptional and medically hopeless situations.

Ethical and Economic Dimensions: Futility, Caregiver Trauma, and the Price of Prolonged Survival

The Harish Rana case throws light on a reality that many families quietly endure: long-term vegetative care can become a lifelong sentence not only for the patient but also for caregivers. Ethically, the debate often begins with the concept of “futile treatment.” If medical science establishes that the brain has lost functional consciousness permanently, interventions such as feeding tubes or continuous clinical support may preserve only biological activity, not meaningful living. The ethical dilemma deepens when the burden of that medical maintenance falls on families who must finance care for years without state support. In India, where healthcare spending is frequently dominated by out-of-pocket expenditure, prolonged dependency can consume savings, force debt, and alter the future of entire households. Families may face a painful moral conflict: they do not wish to abandon a loved one, yet they cannot bear the endless emotional and financial weight of medically indefinite survival. In such contexts, the legal notion of dignity begins to include not only the patient’s condition but also the human costs borne by those providing care. This does not mean economic hardship alone should decide life and death, but it does mean that the law cannot ignore the reality that forced prolongation may sometimes create suffering rather than relieve it.

The Core Dilemma: Autonomy Versus Sanctity of Life, and the Question of Feeding Support

Euthanasia debates ultimately revolve around two powerful moral principles. The first is autonomy, which emphasizes that human beings should have control over deeply personal decisions, including what happens to their body when life becomes irreversible suffering. Supporters of passive euthanasia argue that when recovery is impossible, continuing artificial support may violate dignity and reduce a person to a medical object. The second is the sanctity of life, which holds that life has inherent value regardless of condition, and that allowing withdrawal of support could weaken society’s duty to protect the vulnerable. Critics fear a “slippery slope,” where legal permission could gradually expand, leading to indirect pressure on the elderly, disabled, or economically dependent to “choose” death. The Harish Rana matter also raises a particularly sensitive question: whether clinically assisted nutrition and hydration, feeding through tubes, should be classified as life-sustaining treatment that can be withdrawn, or as basic care that must always be continued. The answer to this question matters because it shapes how the Court defines the boundary between natural death and abandonment. If feeding support is treated as medical treatment, withdrawal becomes legally possible in futile cases; if treated as basic care, withdrawal may be seen as ethically unacceptable. The Court’s ruling will likely determine how India addresses this fine distinction in future end-of-life disputes.

Conclusion: India’s Middle Path and the Future of End-of-Life Jurisprudence

India’s approach to euthanasia is neither fully permissive nor absolutely prohibitive. The legal framework rejects active euthanasia and assisted suicide, but allows passive euthanasia through constitutional reasoning and strong safeguards. This middle path seeks to respect the dignity of the dying while preventing misuse and protecting vulnerable citizens. The Harish Rana case stands at the intersection of law, ethics, and lived reality. It forces courts to confront questions that cannot be answered by medical science alone: when does treatment become cruelty, when does survival become suffering, and how should the Constitution’s promise of dignity apply to bodies kept alive by machines ? The forthcoming judgment is expected to influence not only one family’s fate but also the national understanding of what it means to die with dignity in modern India. In doing so, it may reshape the country’s end-of-life jurisprudence into a more humane, clearer, and practically accessible system, one that recognizes that constitutional rights must be meaningful not only in life, but also at life’s final threshold.