It was a freezing morning, the sort on which our ancestors would check to see which of the elderly relatives eased away from the warmth of the fire during the night were still going to be wanting a bit of woolly mammoth for breakfast. Those of us wondering where Keir Starmer stood on the issue of assisted suicide woke to learn that he definitely backs it for Cabinet ministers. Louise Haigh had been swiftly dispatched, though doubtless there had been a formal process involving two spin doctors.

It was striking that, as each MP stood, it was hard to know which side they would take

Had there been coercion? Was someone in a corner of the room suggesting to Haigh that she had become a burden on the government? We will never know. But while the precise details of Haigh’s wrongdoing remain unclear, there can be few crimes more exquisitely “2014” than claiming your phone had been stolen in order to secure an upgrade. The idea seems strange now and will be incomprehensible in a decade.

And so to death. The House of Commons was full, unusually so for a Friday, to discuss the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill. They opened with an imprecation from The Speaker, Lindsay Hoyle, for MPs to behave with due seriousness. “This is the time for the House to show itself at its best,” he said. And for once, on the whole, it did.

Often the Commons can be dull, with MPs bobbing up to make slavish points in defence of their own side. Friday’s debate would be a good subject for study by anyone who wants to know how the chamber is supposed to operate. Opening in support of her own bill, Kim Leadbeater deployed her strongest arguments: the tales of appalling suffering experienced by some in their final moments, and the agony of their loved ones desperate to ease the pain. She took multiple interventions, if she didn’t necessarily engage with the points. The international evidence for assisted dying was positive, she said, although for some reason she felt the need to add that what she was proposing was “nothing like what happens in Belgium. It is nothing like what happens in Canada.”

By and large the debate was courteous and thoughtful, though if MPs had skipped their congratulations of each other for this, we could have heard from a few more of them. There was an early attempt at tone policing by Labour’s Cat Eccles, sat next to Leadbeater, who raised a point of order to complain that Conservative Danny Kruger was “using incorrect language”. We were momentarily baffled, before she explained that what the bill proposes “is not suicide, that is offensive”. Hoyle was dismissive, and Kruger offered a gentle reproof: “What the bill would do is amend the Suicide Act 1961. It would allow people to assist with a suicide for the first time.”

Their political tradition is the Thanos approach to humanity: there are far too many of us on the planet, and any measure that reduces the number should be supported

The debate operated at two levels: the were the questions of principle, and questions about the bill itself. Supporters assured the waverers that worries about the details would be ironed out in committee. Opponents argued that, in the words of Rachel Maskell, “we must be beyond reasonable doubt of error”.

It was striking that, as each MP stood, it was hard to know which side they would take. Most Tories were against, but Kit Malthouse spoke in favour: “Whatever happens today, terminal people will still take their own lives — all we are deciding today is how.” Labour split in favour, but Florence Eshalomi, choking back tears as she spoke of a young man in huge pain as a result of medical errors, was against: “We should be helping people to live comfortable pain-free lives on their own terms before we think about helping them to die.”

Hers were far from the only tears. Meg Hillier, discussing her daughter, was briefly unable to go on, leading another Labour MP, Lola McEvoy, to intervene so that Hillier could recover. On the frontbench, Alison McGovern looked as though she was in agony listening to the debate. Which of us would have swapped places with her?

Finally, it was time to vote. Leadbeater had to, in a point of order, correct part of her opening speech, which didn’t inspire complete confidence, but by this point most had made up their minds. Richard Tice set off briskly to vote in favour. If you were in his situation, you too would want a legal way of dispatching older people with unhealthy lifestyles. Nigel Farage went the other way, perhaps fearing he’ll wake at the next Reform conference to find a pillow over his face.

The Greens were in favour. Their political tradition is the Thanos approach to humanity: there are far too many of us on the planet, and any measure that reduces the number should be supported.

So too were the vast bulk of the Lib Dems. Steve Darling voted Aye, along with his guide dog Jennie, currently the only one in the chamber entitled to a swift death if she’s in pain. Or indeed if she’s become too expensive.

In the distance we saw Rishi Sunak leaving the Aye lobby. That’s not much of a surprise: “Assisted Suicide” would be a pretty good description of the Tory election campaign.

When the result came, it was greeted with one tiny gasp of horror, and then silence. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anything like it in the chamber. No cheering, or shouts of shame, or even murmured approval. Just silence from supporters and opponents alike, as though they were taking in what they had done. They had, in the words of Hillier, crossed a Rubicon.

And then it was time for the next item of business, the Animal Welfare (Import of Dogs, Cats and Ferrets) Bill. Life goes on. Most of the time, anyway.