Hochul Defies Faith, Signs Controversial ‘Aid in Dying’ Law, Sparking Outrage

Paul Riverbank, 12/18/2025New York legalizes medical aid in dying, sparking fierce debate over mercy, autonomy, and safeguards.

Hochul, whose Catholic upbringing has always colored her decision-making, described her choice as excruciating—“Who am I to deny you or your loved one what they’re begging for at the end of their life?” she asked, leaving little doubt this decision weighed heavily on her conscience. Her words struck a chord with families who’ve watched loved ones endure the refining fire of terminal illness—pain that refuses to yield, dignity sometimes reduced to a distant memory.

Passing this law took years and weathered every conceivable objection. Religious leaders, including Cardinal Timothy Dolan, didn’t mince words in their disappointment, fearing society was inching toward endorsing despair rather than hope for its most vulnerable. Disability advocates, like Elizabeth McCormick from the New York Association on Independent Living, worried about genuine choice disappearing as care options get pinched by cost and staffing pressures—wondering aloud what 'choice' really means when support for living well is eroded.

Still, after all the rallies and committee hearings, supporters kept returning to a simple principle: mercy. The final version of the law is wrapped in procedural checks, perhaps an answer to critics wary of hasty actions or outside pressure. Before any medication can be prescribed, two physicians must agree the patient is in their last six months. Wishes must be made official—first in writing with two witnesses, then in a recorded conversation. Mental competence is a must; a psychiatrist or psychologist signs off. And there’s a five-day pause, providing space for second thoughts. You have to be a New York resident, too; there’s no option for medical tourism here.

Governor Hochul emphasized these limits weren’t just red tape but essential safeguards. “With these protections, we aren’t shortening lives, just making deaths less cruel,” she explained. One could almost imagine the sunlight she invoked—filtering through a bedroom in a quiet neighborhood somewhere upstate—as the antidote to the cold fluorescence of a hospital ward.

Despite the scaffolding of regulation, the law makes some New Yorkers uneasy. The State Catholic Conference quickly denounced it, worried the law “encourages” suicide for people who, in their eyes, need protection, not a path out. Ethicists and activists for the disabled, meanwhile, take issue with the timing—signing off on aid in dying when so many can’t get the basic resources they need to live.

Supporters, however, insist it’s about autonomy at the most vulnerable moment life offers—a moment where being able to say goodbye, to share love, to exercise choice, can provide comfort that no medicine alone can.

Twelve other states and Washington, D.C., have crossed this threshold. Delaware just did. Illinois, too. Americans join citizens in places like Belgium, Switzerland, and Australia—countries long acquainted with such laws. Each jurisdiction sets its own boundaries, even down to details like New Jersey’s ruling that only state residents can participate. New York’s statute mirrors this limit.

Will this new law silence the debate? Hardly. Decisions about life and death, suffering and autonomy, don’t untangle easily—if they ever do. What’s clear is New York has decided which side of the fence it will plant its flag, with other states, and other countries, still looking on.

For those facing the end, and for those making the rules, the personal stakes remain achingly high—proof, perhaps, that for all the legislation in the world, some questions resist closure.

Until recently, New York stood apart from the growing number of states stepping into the debate over whether terminally ill adults should be allowed to decide how—and when—they say goodbye. That’s about to change. Governor Kathy Hochul has thrown her support behind the Medical Aid in Dying Act, a move that closes a long chapter of controversy and opens an entirely new one in the Empire State.Hochul, whose Catholic upbringing has always colored her decision-making, described her choice as excruciating—“Who am I to deny you or your loved one what they’re begging for at the end of their life?” she asked, leaving little doubt this decision weighed heavily on her conscience. Her words struck a chord with families who’ve watched loved ones endure the refining fire of terminal illness—pain that refuses to yield, dignity sometimes reduced to a distant memory.Passing this law took years and weathered every conceivable objection. Religious leaders, including Cardinal Timothy Dolan, didn’t mince words in their disappointment, fearing society was inching toward endorsing despair rather than hope for its most vulnerable. Disability advocates, like Elizabeth McCormick from the New York Association on Independent Living, worried about genuine choice disappearing as care options get pinched by cost and staffing pressures—wondering aloud what 'choice' really means when support for living well is eroded.Still, after all the rallies and committee hearings, supporters kept returning to a simple principle: mercy. The final version of the law is wrapped in procedural checks, perhaps an answer to critics wary of hasty actions or outside pressure. Before any medication can be prescribed, two physicians must agree the patient is in their last six months. Wishes must be made official—first in writing with two witnesses, then in a recorded conversation. Mental competence is a must; a psychiatrist or psychologist signs off. And there’s a five-day pause, providing space for second thoughts. You have to be a New York resident, too; there’s no option for medical tourism here.Governor Hochul emphasized these limits weren’t just red tape but essential safeguards. “With these protections, we aren’t shortening lives, just making deaths less cruel,” she explained. One could almost imagine the sunlight she invoked—filtering through a bedroom in a quiet neighborhood somewhere upstate—as the antidote to the cold fluorescence of a hospital ward.Despite the scaffolding of regulation, the law makes some New Yorkers uneasy. The State Catholic Conference quickly denounced it, worried the law “encourages” suicide for people who, in their eyes, need protection, not a path out. Ethicists and activists for the disabled, meanwhile, take issue with the timing—signing off on aid in dying when so many can’t get the basic resources they need to live.Supporters, however, insist it’s about autonomy at the most vulnerable moment life offers—a moment where being able to say goodbye, to share love, to exercise choice, can provide comfort that no medicine alone can.Twelve other states and Washington, D.C., have crossed this threshold. Delaware just did. Illinois, too. Americans join citizens in places like Belgium, Switzerland, and Australia—countries long acquainted with such laws. Each jurisdiction sets its own boundaries, even down to details like New Jersey’s ruling that only state residents can participate. New York’s statute mirrors this limit.Will this new law silence the debate? Hardly. Decisions about life and death, suffering and autonomy, don’t untangle easily—if they ever do. What’s clear is New York has decided which side of the fence it will plant its flag, with other states, and other countries, still looking on.For those facing the end, and for those making the rules, the personal stakes remain achingly high—proof, perhaps, that for all the legislation in the world, some questions resist closure.