As I write this, Ariel Sharon, the Israeli Prime Minister, lies heavily sedated in a medically induced coma. Sharon, in his late seventies, has always been a vigorous and active person. But no longer. Now, subjected to the marvels of medical technology after a massive stroke, he lies in hospital, a terminally sick man, stripped of all independence and pride. A battery of doctors keeps him alive, with tubes and needles, drips and drugs. If he does survive, he could well spend the rest of his days in meaningless suffering, both physical and mental. If he does not make it, they will have reduced his last days to a wretched, dehumanising experience.

Increasingly, we hear of old people whose lives are dragged out beyond their normal or ordained limits, to be lived pointlessly, uselessly and often in pain. It is a ritual of prolongation that serves no purpose, one that is resorted to even when there is no hope of survival. My own father was subjected to this cruel and unnecessary ritual when he had but hours to live. In a coma that had mercifully alleviated his suffering, he was pulled and pushed around so that a Rhyles tube could be inserted through his nose in order to force-feed him. He died a few hours later, robbed of the dignity by which he had set such store while he was alive.

What for, one asks in despair? Is there any merit in keeping a body alive when the spirit it houses is banished? When all that remains is infirmity and increasing dependence?

Our grandparents and their generation seemed to be better off. Perhaps my memory is playing tricks, but I cannot remember any of them being subjected to this ritual of prolongation. They died of brief illnesses, where their final suffering may have been acute but was limited to a relatively short time. I cannot recall a single one of them spending years in and out of hospitals only to be reduced to a state of invalidism and dependence. They remained happy and active virtually till the end, and when they died, they did so with grace and dignity.

There is no gainsaying that modern medicine has wrought miracles. In the last few decades, cures have been found for virtually every ailment, thus making it more difficult to die. To achieve increased longevity is to be lauded, if this means that one can live longer in a reasonably fit condition.

But is there any merit in going overboard in the quest for a longer life, if the consequences do not justify it? The agony and anguish of a protracted terminal illness can cast a long shadow over the promise of longevity. Such a promise holds no attraction if it means being forced to live in humiliating and undignified circumstances, or simply existing for the sake of existing.