In my view some humanists have placed the god of reason as the only criterion for judgment or assessment in human affairs; an understandable reaction against centuries of worshipping a god of faith but, I think, mistaken: reason does not exist in a vacuum. My own god in these matters is my compatriot David Hume, who once wrote that 'Reason is and ought to be the slave of the passions'. A maxim which (although unaware of it until middle age) has infused and informed much of my working life. For example, in the matter of miscarriages of criminal justice in cases of murder, those of men executed or sentenced to life imprisonment about which I have written half-a-dozen books, I was initially convinced of innocence on the flimsiest evidence, almost entirely, I might say, by intuition. It was then that I called on reason to assist me, by examining in the greatest detail every piece of evidence that had led to conviction, as well as other evidence not introduced at trial and which, had it been introduced, would have almost certainly led to acquittal; thus proving the 'passions' to have been correct.

It was the same with capital punishment. Most of those of us who had always been against it were, I am sure, instinctively so. But the reasons we advanced for abolition (the dangers of executing a man later shown to have been innocent as happened to poor Timothy Evans; arguments to prove that capital punishment is not a unique deterrent, most murders being unplanned and resulting from drink, rage, etc.; members of juries who were against the death penalty themselves bringing in Not Guilty verdicts against those who ought to have been convicted) - all these reasons in the end prevailed. Proponents of hanging have always argued that if there was a referendum on the subject, their side would vote overwhelmingly in favour. I have always taken an opposite view, believing that if all the arguments were put in a nation-wide debate, as they would be, many people would think twice about supporting a law which for a variety of reasons could lead to the wrongful execution of an innocent man. I have few doubts that were capital punishment still in force today, the Birmingham Six and the Guildford Four would now be dead men.

Lastly another of my interests, voluntary euthanasia. I never understood why those in terminal decline, suffering from an incurable illness and wanting to die, should not be lawfully helped to do so. National opinion polls in this country (and others) show that between 80-85 per cent of the population think the same. The arguments of our opponents are irrational. The Roman Catholic Church, now largely discredited, takes the quirky view that the length of life, however distressing, is more important than its quality. Politicians of all parties say that once voluntary euthanasia has been legalised, it will soon slide into involuntary euthanasia, but without giving any supporting reasons; they also claim that old ladies (never, oddly enough, old men) will be pressurised by kin who want to get their hands on their money or property into seeking voluntary euthanasia from their doctors. (Shall we say 4.30 on Tuesday afternoon, Mrs. Smith?) Any worthwhile progress in human affairs often involves risks (or Columbus would not have struck out for America nor the astronauts for the moon) but the sort of arguments listed above are pure fantasy. Voluntary Euthanasia and/or doctor-assisted suicide is now operative in Holland, the State of Oregon, Switzerland and Germany, and other countries are expected to permit it soon. Here, the 240 members of Parliament who blocked the legislation of it last year regard it, like the death penalty, as a matter of personal conscience; a luxury to which I do not think they are entitled. I look on it, and with reasons, as one of the most important social/ethical issues of our time.