Robin Williams’ death is no less tragic than it was before his Parkinson’s disease diagnosis

When somebody in the public eye kills themselves, there is immediate speculation and commentary about their reason for doing it. In Robin Williams’ case, a history of addiction and mental health problems gave a media-friendly, easy-to-package way of explaining his apparent suicide.

Whenever somebody dies unexpectedly, we like having a short but effective narrative to explain it. Having lost three friends to suicide I quickly realised that, when people asked why they had done it, they really wanted a neat, tidy and preferably brief explanation. This is not how life works.

The world has been mourning Williams’ death and, for the first few days, it was seen as a total tragedy.

Then, something changed. As his wife released the information that Williams had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease there was a palpable shift in mood. The internet commentariat breathed a mass sigh of relief, exclaiming, “Oh, so that’s why he did it!”.

No longer was his choice to die seen as something that should have been prevented. Instead, suddenly, it was an understandable and, ultimately, wise decision. People stop wishing someone had found and stopped him. Instead, they nod sagely and conclude that he probably took the best course of action after all.

This is what non-disabled people think about disability and impairment. I am not the only disabled person I know to have had complete strangers approach me and tell me they would kill themselves if they ever became disabled, and this is exemplified in the reaction to this latest news on Williams.

People expressing these opinions perhaps need to examine their attitude to disability and illness. To want to offer support and help to prevent the death of a non-disabled person who was suicidal, while advocating the provision of a lethal drug cocktail if the suicidal person is disabled, is dehumanising, oppressive, and more than a little bit frightening.

The loss of Robin Williams is as much a tragedy now as it was when we didn’t know. We should be no less sad about any person’s death if they died when facing illness and disability than if they were perfectly healthy and well.

Disabled people who are suicidal are often faced with assumptions that they are depressed because of their impairments but our lives are as complex, bewildering and multi-faceted as any other. The presence of a wheelchair, a degenerative disease or a perceived loss of independence should never prevent a person’s suicidal feelings from being treated. Nor should they be used to pass laws allowing doctors to enable someone to die where, if they were not disabled or ill, they might be enabled to live.

We don’t know why Robin Williams died and, as with most deaths by suicide, we are unlikely to ever uncover the complete, intricate circumstances that led to that decision. In this case, the narrative may have shifted from “bipolar, drug user and money troubles” to “fear of impending disability”, but it is impossible to simplify Williams’ decision in this way. Moreover, for those who found they felt a little bit reassured when they heard about his recent diagnosis, it could be time to address the messages that underlie that sense of relief.

If the sadness at losing somebody, famous or otherwise, is eased by the thought that they avoided physical disability, this demonstrates a double standard that puts disabled people at a distinct disadvantage. These times of austerity are difficult enough, without encouraging people’s despair and legitimising their desperation.

Philippa Willitts is a freelance writer and proofreader who lives in the north of England. She mostly writes about health and disability, SEO and social media, and women’s issues.

(Image credit: Robin Williams Canada)