Individuals living with dementia are still human beings with their own joys and interests, deserving of respect and dignity.
Jo Glanville articulated this beautifully in her piece about how reading helped her navigate the complexities of her parents' dementia (“Reading was the key to breaking through the fog of my parents’ dementia,” February 1, 2026). It’s a common misconception that people affected by dementia are somehow “gone” or “not really alive.” This dangerous notion is held by many, including those who have experienced it firsthand with loved ones, and it can be detrimental to the rights and wellbeing of those who are already in a fragile state.
Throughout her journey, Glanville’s mother, despite living with vascular dementia, remained vibrant and present until her final days. Even as her physical condition deteriorated and her ability to engage in conversation diminished, she retained her essence. In those last few years, when reading became a challenge for her, her family stepped in to read aloud to her daily. Glanville observed that even though her mother could not voice her thoughts, the expressions on her face conveyed her enjoyment or lack thereof, highlighting the continued presence of her personality.
Remarkably, even during her mother's last four days in the hospital—after suffering from choking episodes caused by her condition and experiencing a heart attack—the family continued to read to her. They were able to identify what brought her joy despite her inability to respond verbally.
Additionally, they played music for her, reminiscent of the comfort it had provided at home, demonstrating the importance of familiar sounds and experiences. Once the medical staff ensured her pain management was appropriately addressed, she remained serene until the end. This narrative underscores a vital truth: people living with dementia are not mere shadows of their former selves; they are individuals who deserve to be treated with the dignity and respect afforded to all.
Matt Singleton, a gerontologist and director of Cognitive Books, shared his experience reflecting on Jo Glanville's insights. He recalls how, after his father's diagnosis of Alzheimer’s and vascular dementia in 2017, he refused to accept the idea that his love for reading had vanished. Instead, he innovated by creating short illustrated rhyming books paired with optional audio elements featuring music to engage him cognitively. Incorporating exercises based on cognitive stimulation therapy not only sparked conversation but also evoked cherished memories.
Through collaboration with the Alzheimer’s Society, Singleton discovered that many individuals with mild to moderate dementia still possess the ability to read independently. Others found great joy in sharing stories with partners, in group settings, or via audio formats. The outcomes of these initiatives have been remarkable, positively impacting thousands of lives. While his father may struggle to recall what he had for breakfast, he can still recite passages about The Beatles or the 1966 World Cup from memory. These moments offer profound joy, as Singleton can share with his father, "I wrote that," witnessing the delight and pride light up his father's face once more.
Catherine Roome, reflecting on her connection with her sister who has Alzheimer’s, recalls the small yet significant success she experienced through music during lockdown. Growing up, the three sisters often sang “Sisters,” a song made famous by the Beverley Sisters. While video chatting with her sister in the nursing home, Roome played their beloved song and sang along, and to her astonishment, her sister joined in, momentarily breaking free from the confines of her illness. Such moments are nothing short of magical.
Finally, Jane Linden shared her perspective on the often-overlooked thoughts and feelings of individuals with dementia. During her mother’s final stages of dementia, they found solace in looking through a photo book of Victorian children—a reminder of her mother’s past as a teacher and her lifelong passion for writing letters. Linden agrees with Glanville’s sentiments: those who live with dementia are not merely “dead.”
The topic of assisted dying has sparked intense debate, particularly concerning its implications for those with dementia. Critics argue that supporting such measures might open the door to broader acceptance of euthanasia for vulnerable populations, a point highlighted by novelist Ian McEwan’s recent advocacy for extending rights to include individuals suffering from dementia. This raises significant ethical questions: Should individuals with dementia be afforded the same considerations regarding their right to die? Or does this risk diminishing the value of life for those who are perceived as less capable due to their condition? The conversation is crucial and invites differing opinions. What do you think? Are we putting too much emphasis on autonomy at the potential cost of lives? Join the dialogue in the comments.
