Why executions were public

A condemned person can be killed quietly: in a basement, without witnesses, in a few minutes. For centuries, that was not how it was done. A platform was set up in the square or by the city gates, the day was scheduled for a fair or holiday, and the sentence was read aloud. It was costly, troublesome, and dangerous - and that was exactly the point.

In the old logic of power, a crime was not only harm done to another person. It was also a declaration that the law could be broken with impunity. So the response had to be public too. Philosopher Michel Foucault described it as theater: the condemned person's body became a stage on which the crown showed once again that it was stronger than any individual. The sentence was read before everyone, and the law stopped being an abstract rule: it was a force that came specifically for you.

That explains details that otherwise seem unnecessary. The long route to the execution site through the whole city. Bodies left hanging in plain view. Heads displayed on gates and bridges. The sign had to keep working after the crowd had dispersed. And the crowd came willingly: execution day was almost a holiday, with families attending and vendors selling food and pamphlets with the condemned person's "last words."

The script depended on every participant's cooperation. The preacher explained the moral, the condemned person repented, and the executioner did his job cleanly. The condemned person's role was written in advance: repentance and a warning to others. But it broke down constantly. The executioner missed - and the crowd booed him instead. The condemned person stayed calm or joked from the platform - and became the hero of the day rather than an example.

The crowd had a life of its own in other ways too. Reformers seeking to soften British laws liked to cite an observation: pickpockets worked the crowds at executions of pickpockets. We can no longer verify how widespread this was, but the argument was heard in Parliament in the early 19th century. And over half a century, the list of capital offenses shrank to almost nothing.

Executions left the public eye not out of mercy. The square simply stopped being a useful stage: the crowd that gathered was hard to control, and newspapers spread the details without it.

Executions were hidden behind a wall. Outside, there was only an official notice and a black flag over the prison - a sign that the sentence had been carried out. The spectacle was reduced to a line, but it was meant to communicate exactly the same thing.