Death Would Be Too Kind

Steve Jamnik
Steve Jamnik grew up on farms in Hertfordhire and Essex, studied psychology, then worked as a psychologist in the 1970s before ditching it to work in television.

At Prime Minister’s Questions on November 12th, 2025, Rupert Lowe, founder and leader of Restore Britain, said a referendum should be held in the UK on whether to bring back the death penalty. Lowe said:

Every week, we hear of a brutal murder, rape or stabbing, far too often perpetrated by someone who should not be in our country to begin with. Does the Prime Minister agree that in the cases so undeniable, the crime so monstrous, the evil so irredeemable, the re-introduction of the death penalty for both foreign and domestic criminals should be put to the British people in a legally binding referendum?

In 1955, Ruth Ellis was the last woman to be hanged in this country. The last men to be hanged were Peter Anthony Allen and Gwynne Owen Evans (real name John Robson Walby – still protesting his innocence) in 1964. In 1965 the death penalty was ofﬁcially abolished in the UK. Treason, piracy with violence and arson in Royal Dockyards ceased to be capital offences in 1971. In 1994 a vote in the House of Commons on bringing back the death penalty was defeated by 403 votes to 159.

There are still those in this country who are ﬁrmly convinced that the death penalty should be reintroduced, partly as a deterrent, but also as Divine Retribution. If you commit murder, then it is right and proper that you should forfeit your life. Some argue persuasively that it costs the British taxpayer £50,000 a year to keep someone in a secure prison. It would be much more cost-effective to eradicate them, rather like a rat behind your kitchen sink. These people are vermin anyway, why do we have any obligation to keep them alive? However, America is the only Western country not to have abolished the Death Penalty.

It is very common for people who are in despair to declare they want to die. Ian Brady pleaded to be able to end his life. He was force fed daily – a gruesome procedure for both the feeder and the fed. He was an extreme example. No one liked or sympathised with Brady in the way that some sympathised with Myra. Keeping him alive was a torment to him. Did we enjoy tormenting him? Could we perhaps have tormented him some more? Was that not better than the noose? Death would be too kind. Keep him in a cell with a few rats and a broken radiator. Would that have seen justice fully satisﬁed? How about assisted dying? Brady could have been offered that. Would anyone have objected?

In the 1970s, one of the approaches of behavioural psychology was to dig around, not in a murderer’s ‘mind’ – we left all that kind of stuff to the psychiatrist – but in the murderer’s circumstances: not to excuse or legitimise what he/she had done (understanding why a trigger clicks is not the same thing as defending what happens when it does) but to try to fathom why they had done it. To sit down and ask them why would get you nowhere. They hadn’t the slightest clue, or would trot out trite clichés that you had heard a thousand times and which explained nothing.

So you turned to the only places which you could turn to: what were the conditions in which he (or she) had been living? How had his parents treated him in childhood? Did he even know who they were? Had he been shipped from pillar to post between a succession of children’s homes or foster carers? Had he been brutalised as a child? How had he or his family treated animals? His pets, if he had any?

What was his diet? Nutritious food, or alcohol and drugs?

Was there anything at all in his life that brought him joy, or meaning? What was his IQ? Could he read and write? What type of books had he read? Novels? Detective stories? Science ﬁction? Non-ﬁction? What type of television programmes or ﬁlms did he enjoy watching? Musicals? Comedy? Adventure? Horror? Fantasy? Violence? Pornography?

Did he have a job? Ever? What skills did he have, if any?

What was his ability in communication? Could he express himself clearly and accurately? Did he have a realistic grip on reality, or did he live in a strange, pitiless world? Did vengeance and smiting form part of his survival strategy, or did he just enjoy it?

Questions, questions, questions.

Of course, psychologists run a risk with all this digging around in someone’s circumstances. Circumstances are out there for everyone to see. We can save ourselves a lot of bother and possible criticism if we just sling the wretch down an oubliette, and forget he even existed. Let’s not even erect a headstone. Better to incinerate him and scatter his vile ashes on a barren moor and forget him altogether. But if we do that, we have foreclosed on four important things: three concerning us; one concerning the murderer.

The ﬁrst is if we extinguish this human being, we are denying ourselves an opportunity. What is it that makes a human being turn out this way? Can we learn anything through dispassionate study? Are there tell tale signs? Critical factors? If we discover what those critical factors are, would we be able to say to the world: Don’t allow something-or-other to happen to human beings at this-or-that stage in their lives, because if you do, it will rob them of the ability to feel empathy, to be kind? Or: Don’t structure society in such-and-such a way, because it breeds people who are callous, vindictive and ruthless. Do you not think it might be useful for us to be able to know such things?

Secondly, if a person does not have the right to deprive any other person of their life, then that rule must be absolute. If he cannot do it, then neither can you nor I, nor the state. If it is wrong, then it is wrong. Period.

Third, if we give the killer the chop, that’s Goodnight Vienna for him. His awareness is over. His discomfort and misery are at an end. He can no longer feel guilt, remorse. He will not learn pity. He has no opportunities to mend, or maybe make up for what he has done. Does society owe him that?

What consolation is it to the bereaved, either that the perpetrator has been swiftly despatched, or that he suffers in a grey, stone cell? Does that erase or compensate for their grief, despair and anguish? Will they be all right now and able to trot along and enjoy life?

And what about those who know and, just maybe, care for the murderer? Do we have the right to inﬂict pain and anguish on them? They are totally innocent, you must admit. Do you think it is worth pondering on that?

Finally, what does all this say about us?

Victor Vicious stabs Harriet Harmless 22 times with a TRC Urban Tactical Fixed Blade. We are supposed to be a civilised, intelligent, compassionate society. If we summarily execute Victor, then in a strange sort of way Victor has been victorious over us. He has killed our soul. He has made us something we are not. He has made us barbarous and vengeful, when we would shudder at the thought of being barbarous and vengeful. He has effortlessly made us exactly like him.

Just because you are opposed to one thing, doesn’t automatically mean you support its opposite. If you ﬁnd capital punishment repulsive, it doesn’t mean you want to blurt pieties, feed murderers cream cakes, and cuddle them. Behavioural psychologists know a great deal about behaviour and its mechanisms. Are we in the least bit interested in what they may have to tell us?