In 2002, The Netherlands continued its leadership in developing rules and jurisdiction regarding euthanasia and end-of-life decisions by implementing the Euthanasia Act, which allows euthanasia for patients 12 years of age and older. Subsequently, in 2005, the regulation on active ending of life for newborns was issued. However, more and more physicians and parents have stated that the age gap between these two regulations—children between 1 and 12 years old—is undesirable. These children should have the same right to end their suffering as adults and newborn infants. An extended debate on pediatric euthanasia ensued, and currently the debate is ongoing as to whether legislation should be altered in order to allow pediatric euthanasia. An emerging major question regards the active ending of life in the context of palliative care: How does a request for active ending of life relate to the care that is given to children in the palliative phase? Until now, the distinction between palliative care and end-of-life decisions continues to remain unclear, making any discussion about their mutual in- and exclusiveness hazardous at best. In this report, therefore, we aim to provide insight into the relationship between pediatric palliative care and end-of-life decisions, as understood in the Netherlands. We do so by first providing an overview of the (legal) rules and regulations regarding euthanasia and active ending of life, followed by an analysis of the relationship between these two, using the Dutch National Guidelines for Palliative Care for Children. The results of this analysis revealed two major and related features of palliative care and end-of-life decisions for children: (1) palliative care and end-of-life decisions are part of the same process, one that focuses both on quality of living and quality of dying, and (2) although physicians are seen as ultimately responsible for making end-of-life decisions, the involvement of parents and children in this decision is of the utmost importance and should be regarded as such.

Since 1997, execution in China has been increasingly performed by lethal injection. The current criteria for determination of death for execution by lethal injection (cessation of heartbeat, cessation of respiration, and dilated pupils) neither conform to current medical science nor to any standard of medical ethics. In practice, death is pronounced in China within tens of seconds after starting the lethal injection. At this stage, however, neither the common criteria for cardiopulmonary death (irreversible cessation of heartbeat and breathing) nor that of brain death (irreversible cessation of brain functions) have been met. To declare a still-living person dead is incompatible with human dignity, regardless of the processes following death pronouncement. This ethical concern is further aggravated if organs are procured from the prisoners. Analysis of postmortem blood thiopental level data from the United States indicates that thiopental, as used, may not provide sufficient surgical anesthesia. The dose of thiopental used in China is kept secret. It cannot be excluded that some of the organ explantation surgeries on prisoners subjected to lethal injection are performed under insufficient anesthesia in China. In such cases, the inmate may potentially experience asphyxiation and pain. Yet this can be easily overlooked by the medical professionals performing the explantation surgery because pancuronium prevents muscle responses to pain, resulting in an extremely inhumane situation. We call for an immediate revision of the death determination criteria in execution by lethal injection in China. Biological death must be ensured before death pronouncement, regardless of whether organ procurement is involved or not.

Complying with the requirements of informed consent for medical procedures can sometimes be problematic, even when the hospitals are located in countries that are uniform in their language and cultural values. However, when hospitals are located in countries with diverse linguistic and ethnic communities, it becomes particularly challenging. This article examines how Macao, with four predominant languages—Mandarin, Portuguese, Cantonese and English—and two very strong cultures, Western and Chinese, strives to meet the challenges of informed consent. The situation is made even more complicated by a healthcare delivery in Macao that is mostly guided by Chinese ethical and cultural perspectives, whereas its law is inspired by the Western model.

A common goal of ethics education is to equip students who later become health practitioners to not only know about the ethical principles guiding their practice, but to also autonomously recognize when and how these principles might apply and assist these future practitioners in providing care for patients and families. This article aims to contribute to discussions about ethics education pedagogy and teaching, by presenting and evaluating the use of the visual arts as an educational approach designed to facilitate students’ moral imagination and independent critical thinking about ethics in clinical practice. We describe a sequence of ethics education strategies over a 3 year Doctor of Physiotherapy program, focusing on the final year professional ethics assessment task, which involved the use of visual arts to stimulate the exploration of ethics in healthcare. The data (in the form of student essays about their chosen artwork) were analyzed using both thematic and content analysis. Two key themes centered on emotional responses and lateral thinking. The use of artwork appeared to facilitate imaginative, emotional, and conceptual thinking about ethics and clinical experience (both past and future). This study provides some evidence to support the effectiveness of the use of the visual arts in promoting students’ recognition of ethical dimensions within their clinical experience and reflection on their emerging professional identity. As one student noted, she left the museum “somewhat changed.”