Without getting into matters of mercy killing, which is another question entirely, I can think of only one situation in which the taking of a human life can be justified. If someone initiates violence against one or more other people, one can and should take whatever steps are necessary — commensurate in force with the situation — to prevent that act of violence from continuing. This may require physically restraining the initiator; or if it's the only way, it may require shooting the initiator down like a mad dog. The point is that one person is trying to do physical harm to another, and one is justified in taking whatever means necessary to prevent it.Taking a human life is wrong. The fact that it is sanctioned by a governmental body does not change that. The fact that juries do make mistakes and innocent people have been executed is more than enough reason to abolish the death penalty.
What to do with creatures like Timothy McVeigh? If there were any way of knowing before the act that he intended to do what he did, one would be justified in stopping him by whatever means, even if it required killing him to do so. But afterward? I can't help remembering what the father of one of the victims said: "One hundred and sixty-eight people are dead. What will it accomplish to make it one hundred and sixty-nine? It won't bring Julie back."
On that morning in 1995, Timothy McVeigh resigned from the human species. He is not fit to live among humans ever again, and steps should be taken to see that he never has the chance. I would have preferred to see him spent the rest of his life in a cell, in solitary confinement. Feed him, let him exercise, and generally take care of his health needs. But no visitors, no television, no books, no pen and paper to write with, no music — and, other than his guards and a doctor whenever one might be necessary — no human contact. Nothing. Nothing but time to think.
He preferred to die rather than live the rest of his life in a cell, and he has gone out with a huge burst of publicity. I can't help but feel that somehow he has won again! That saddens me.
This execution was not justice. It was vengeance. Understandable, but vengeance nevertheless. And that reflects on the kind of society we have allowed.
Don Firth