If life is what we make it, then the end of life can be understood as a spiritual journey rather than a medical pursuit. We demedicalize dying by distancing ourselves from practices that use hope as consent (prolonging life through reflexive hospitalizations, procedures, or antibiotics that offer little dignity to those already living with serious illness).

Every medical decision poses a fundamental question: Is this the beginning of the end, or the continuation of long-term care? With each hospitalization, test, procedure, or prescription, we choose whether to be treated as a patient or respected as a person.

The whole person is mind, body, and spirit. A patient appears reduced to organs, labs, and diagnoses. The end of life is best guided not by protocol alone, but by spirit (the source of moral clarity, courage, and dignity). Today, too many people die in medical facilities against their wishes, subjected to interventions they neither wanted nor would have chosen.

How did we get here?

As an emergency physician, I routinely see elderly patients denied hospice because death needs to occur within six months. In effect, they do not yet qualify for dignity. Instead, they suffer in a system that sustains life by default and for profit, rather than by understanding and compassion.

What we can learn from the Amish

The Amish offer a striking contrast. Their approach to life and death relies on faith, community, and natural remedies, prioritizing spiritual well-being over longevity. Healing occurs through divine providence without heroic measures, especially for elders and those with serious illness. Medical care is sought thoughtfully, typically only after home remedies fail.

The Amish also question the necessity of health insurance and its profit motives. They remain largely self-sufficient while deeply embedded in a caregiving community. Their model demonstrates a path to dignity: independence without isolation, care without exploitation.

Whole care enrolls the mind, body, and spirit in functional healing from the inside out, prioritizing spirit and dignity. Medical care, by contrast, is often duty-based and increasingly profit-driven, healing from the outside in with a dependency on medication.

The food industry offers a helpful analogy: organic versus processed. Both provide calories, but only one is nourishing. Likewise, whole care embraces natural death, while medicalized care relies on preservatives (chemotherapy, immunotherapy, procedures) to extend life without necessarily adding quality.

Hospice versus dignity-based care

Because these models may coexist, it is essential to distinguish hospice from dignity-based care.

Hospice is a medical benefit. Physicians must certify that a patient is likely to die within six months, and care remains anchored in the medical system. Interdisciplinary teams provide symptom management, medications, equipment, and intermittent visits. While hospice often reduces hospitalizations and aggressive interventions, it remains subject to eligibility criteria, documentation requirements, and reimbursement rules. Patients remain medicalized.

Dignity-based care, by contrast, is nonmedical whole care led by death doulas, or perhaps dignity doulas. It does not depend on prognosis, diagnosis, or insurance approval. It is initiated by patients or caregivers, often at the time of serious illness diagnosis rather than in the final months of life.

A dignity doula does not diagnose, prescribe, or treat. Instead, they offer presence, guidance, and spiritual companionship, supporting purpose, family caregiving, ritual, forgiveness, closure, and peace.

Hospice is time-limited and reactive; dignity-based care is values-driven and anticipatory. Hospice teams visit; doulas remain vigilant. Whole care works best at the beginning of a grave diagnosis, while hospice is often a last resort.

The role of the dignity doula

Dignity doulas serve individuals who intentionally forgo aggressive medical intervention in favor of innate healing and natural death. Their role parallels that of birth doulas, who support mothers throughout pregnancy rather than appearing only during labor.

Likewise, caregivers may engage a dignity doula at the time of diagnosis, the conception of serious illness, with the intention of preserving dignity and demedicalizing the end of life.

The gestational period of serious illness may last days or decades. At some point, we shift from duty to dignity, from fear to wisdom, from medical intervention to peace.

Medicare, autonomy, and missed opportunities

Most Medicare recipients never question whether they need insurance. Fewer ask whether they also need human services that preserve dignity. Medicare readily pays for resuscitation of elderly patients, often against their stated wishes, yet fails to support alternatives that allow for good deaths.

Medicare reimburses serious illness conversations framed as checklists, yet does not recognize the choice of dignity-based care or the services of a dignity doula because they fall outside approved processes.

True demedicalization requires caregiving networks that prioritize benevolence over aggression. Caregivers supporting caregivers, rather than reflexively deferring to medical recommendations, provide the opportunity for a demedicalized, dignified death. Only a caregiver grounded in mercy and love would encourage a loved one’s refusal of a pacemaker in exchange for peace.

Enact dignity to demedicalize

The most ethical moment to reconcile patient autonomy with personal dignity is during Medicare enrollment, not in the chaos of an emergency. By choosing benevolent care early, individuals can enact advance directives that support a demedicalized end-of-life experience.

In a life-threatening situation, caregivers do not need to call 911. Instead, they call the dignity doula.

Patient-centered care imagines concentric rings of medical and nonmedical providers. Person-centered care requires a doula or companion who acts as a buffer, granting access only to those skilled in easing suffering and preserving dignity.

Mercy and dignity lie at the heart of demedicalized caregiving. Caregivers need more support to enact this cultural shift.

The adage “An apple a day keeps the doctor away” reminds us that simplicity, nature, and moderation have long been sources of health.

To demedicalize the end of life is not to abandon care, but to reclaim compassion, rendering dignity-based care to the dying through supported, merciful caregiving.

Kevin Haselhorst is an emergency physician and author of Wishes To Die For: Expanding Upon Doing Less in Advance Care Directives.