By Carl Parslow
WHEN the States Assembly voted on 26 February to approve the Island’s Assisted Dying Law, the moment was described as “historic”. Jersey became only the second jurisdiction in the British Isles, after the Isle of Man, to legislate for assisted dying, the outcome of years of consultation, careful drafting and a clear democratic mandate.
Yet beneath the headlines lies a more uncomfortable question: does the Island truly control its own destiny, or has our autonomy always depended on the goodwill of a government elsewhere?
Jersey presents itself as proudly self-governing. We run our own courts, elect our own parliament, and pass our own laws. But none of those laws come into force without the UK Lord Chancellor recommending them for Royal Assent. Officially this is described as a formality. In reality, it grants a UK minister, operating in a political climate entirely separate from ours, a powerful veto over Jersey’s decisions.
The Isle of Man’s recent experience should give us pause. Its Assisted Dying Bill has been waiting almost a year for Royal Assent, despite Manx legislation usually being processed within three months. No clear justification has been offered. The delay looks less like careful scrutiny and more like quiet political discomfort.
Jersey may soon face the same treatment.
The UK government is currently embroiled in its own struggle over assisted dying.
Westminster’s Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill has been buried beneath more than a thousand amendments, many designed simply to run down the parliamentary clock.
Against that backdrop, Whitehall may fear that approving assisted-dying legislation in the Crown Dependencies could be interpreted as endorsing a change in the UK itself.
Whether Westminster finds the topic politically awkward is irrelevant to Jersey’s constitutional position. Our affairs are, and should remain, matters for Jersey and its people alone. That has long been the foundation of the relationship between the Crown and the Crown Dependencies.
If Whitehall now hesitates simply because the subject is politically sensitive in the UK, it exposes something more troubling: that Jersey’s autonomy exists only when it is convenient for the UK.
Jersey’s Attorney General has warned that withholding Royal Assent would create “a constitutional difficulty of some magnitude”, even though he would be “astonished” if it occurred. His diplomatic language is understandable. But the underlying point is unavoidable: Jersey’s right to self-determination is only as secure as Whitehall’s willingness to respect it.
He has likened the relationship between the Crown and its Dependencies to “something of a ballet”, each side taking care not to tread on the other’s toes. Yet the Isle of Man’s experience suggests the choreography is unravelling. What we are now witnessing looks less like a ballet and more like improvisation from a UK government anxious to avoid its own domestic political embarrassment.
And improvisation makes for a deeply uncertain constitutional partner.
Jersey’s Assisted Dying Law is a clear example of responsible law-making in a self-governing jurisdiction. The States Assembly endorsed the principle in 2024, followed by extensive consultation and detailed drafting. The final law applies only to mentally competent adults with a terminal illness and is accompanied by strengthened palliative and end-of-life care provisions. It was approved decisively in the States Assembly by our elected representatives.
Yet none of that care, restraint, or democratic legitimacy matters if the UK can delay Royal Assent simply because the subject is uncomfortable. That is where the real danger lies.
If Royal Assent can be stalled indefinitely on assisted dying, what prevents similar hesitation over future legislation on anything else: housing, environmental protection, healthcare, or social policy? The moment a UK minister can silently obstruct a law passed by Jersey’s democratically elected parliament, self-government shifts from a constitutional right to a conditional privilege.
That is not the relationship Jersey believes it has, but it may be the relationship that actually exists.
If a constitutional crisis emerges, it will not arrive through dramatic confrontation. It will seep quietly through unexplained delays, polite correspondence, and prolonged silence from Whitehall. Ambiguity may be civilised, but it is no less corrosive.
For decades, Jersey has operated on the assumption that its democratically elected parliament decides the Island’s future. The Assisted Dying Law will now test whether that assumption holds in practice.
Jersey has done its part. Our parliament has spoken with clarity and legitimacy. The question now sits with Westminster: will it honour the spirit of our constitutional arrangement, or will it expose its limits?
If Royal Assent is granted within a reasonable timeframe, our long-held belief in genuine self-determination will remain intact.
If it is not, Jersey may be forced to confront a more uncomfortable truth: that our autonomy, long assumed to be secure, was never as robust as we believed and that we may be more dependent on, more beholden to, the UK government, than we have ever allowed ourselves to admit.
And if Whitehall’s hesitation continues, the question will not be whether a constitutional crisis is looming. The question will be whether it has already begun.
Born and educated in the Island, Carl Parslow is an experienced Jersey advocate and notary public with over 25 years’ experience. He heads up Parslows LLP business legal services department, advising corporates and individuals on a range of issues with a particular emphasis on acting for Jersey owner-managed businesses. Outside of work, he enjoys rugby and cycling with Lasardines.
