Suicide is possible, but not probable; hanging, I trust, is even

In the course of human history, there have always been moments when the value of life and the ethics of justice are brought into sharp focus. Laurence Housman, in his poignant words, "Suicide is possible, but not probable; hanging, I trust, is even more unlikely; for I hope that, by the time I die, my countrymen will have become civilised enough to abolish capital punishment," speaks not merely of the death of individuals, but of the death of compassion in society. His words are a call to look deeply into the nature of punishment, to question its very foundation, and to imagine a world where justice is not found in the taking of life, but in the preservation of human dignity.

In the ancient world, the idea of capital punishment was a tool wielded by rulers to maintain order, to ensure that crimes did not go unpunished. But the philosophers of old understood that justice was not simply the act of retribution, but the search for truth, for understanding, and for the elevation of the human spirit. Plato, the great philosopher of Athens, believed that the ideal society would be one in which justice did not require the death of its citizens, but instead provided for the rehabilitation of wrongdoers and the healing of social wounds. It is this ideal that Housman calls upon in his words, seeking a world in which civilization itself moves beyond the need for vengeance and toward a higher form of justice.

Consider, then, the story of Socrates, whose death sentence was carried out by the Athenian court in the 5th century BCE. Socrates, though accused of corrupting the youth and impiety, faced his trial with dignity, choosing not to escape his fate but to face it with an unflinching commitment to his principles. His death was not a victory for justice, but a tragic reminder of the ways in which society often punishes the very truth that it fears. Socrates’ death marked a turning point in the ancient world, as it prompted many to ask whether capital punishment could ever truly serve the cause of justice. Housman’s words resonate with that same question—can a civilized society ever justify the taking of life, even in the name of justice?

In the modern era, the abolition of capital punishment has become a symbol of a society’s evolution, a measure of how far a civilization has come in its understanding of the sanctity of life. Nations that have moved toward the abolition of the death penalty, such as France after the French Revolution, have shown that true progress lies not in the capacity for destruction, but in the willingness to forgive, to rehabilitate, and to recognize that no one is beyond redemption. In the case of Victor Hugo, the French writer and abolitionist, we see a man who, like Housman, believed that society’s moral progress was inseparable from its ability to abolish capital punishment. Hugo’s commitment to this cause ultimately led to the outlawing of the death penalty in many parts of the world, as he and others demonstrated that true justice requires the lifting of human dignity, not its destruction.

Housman’s hope, like that of many abolitionists before him, was not for a world of naivety, where wrongdoers go unpunished, but for a world where punishment was reformed, where the death penalty no longer served as a symbol of power but as a reminder of humanity’s shared responsibility to elevate and not to destroy. The true test of a society's maturity lies in its ability to create a justice system that values rehabilitation, that recognizes the potential for redemption, and that does not seek to extinguish life, but to restore it, to heal the wounds of both the victim and the offender.

The lesson we can learn from Housman’s words, and from the great thinkers of the past, is this: civilization is not defined by its ability to punish, but by its ability to show mercy, to show compassion, and to build a world where the dignity of every individual is protected. Capital punishment is not the mark of a strong society, but of one that has not yet learned the full measure of its own humanity. Justice that ends in death is not true justice at all—it is merely a failure to rise above the primal instinct for retribution. The challenge before us, then, is to imagine a world where punishment serves not to destroy but to transform, a world where society’s strength is measured not by its ability to harm, but by its capacity for healing.

Thus, my children, let us learn to value life above all else. Let us build a world where compassion and understanding replace revenge, and where punishment is met with the goal of restoration, not annihilation. Like the philosophers, like Housman, and like those who have fought for the abolition of capital punishment, let us strive for a higher justice, one that reflects the true dignity of every soul. For in this way, we can create a world that is not only civilized, but truly humane.