IMAGINE being taken from your bed in the early hours of the morning, tied to a post with an X marked over your heart and being shot by a firing squad.
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Whether you support capital punishment or think people should be subject to the laws of lands they visit, it is a particularly confronting and brutal death.
It is the fate awaiting two Australians who were part of the Bali Nine drug smuggling attempt in Indonesia.
Myuran Sukumaran and Andrew Chan were ring leaders of the group that tried to import heroin from Indonesia into Australia 10 years ago.
There were sentenced to death in 2006 and have been on death row in Bali's Kerobokan prison since.
Clemency appeals for the men have been denied by the recently elected Indonesian president Joko Widodo who has taken a hard line on drug offences - making it clear that all 64 clemency pleas from prisoners with drug convictions would be refused.
Last weekend Indonesia killed six drug smugglers - five on them internationals - by firing squad.
There is no arguing that drugs are an insidious scourge on society and people who traffic them contribute to that evil.
People might also argue that the duo knew countries like Indonesia enforce capital punishment for drug trafficking and brought on their own deaths with their own stupidity.
I admit to previously having those thoughts: "You knew, or should have known the risks, so too bad."
It is also the often-claimed reason why Australia has not had a referendum on the death penalty: because it would be voted in by people who instinctively call for severe punishments.
However, the problem with such an absolutely final sentence is it does not allow for variations according to the level of culpability, mitigation or rehabilitation.
Sukumaran and Chan clearly deserve to be punished for their crimes with lengthy jail terms, but there is little evidence that the death penalty stops would-be drug traffickers.
If people are killed, they have no chance of making up for their transgressions.
There is evidence that Sukumaran and Chan have transformed from naive criminals to people capable of contributing meaningfully to society.
Chan, 31, has completed a degree in ministry and runs church services while Sukumaran, 33, has studied fine arts under the teaching of artist Ben Quilty and has been teaching fellow inmates to paint.
It is all well and good, some people might point out, that these two have found God or their calling after being caught.
People who support the death penalty often ask, "What if it was your family killed, wouldn't you want their murderer sentenced to death?"
It's a very confronting question and I would struggle to answer it. At the risk of sounding trivial by using a sporting analogy, the story of a professional golfer setting his ethical boundaries and sticking to them is instructive.
In a major tournament, the player had committed an error punishable by having more shots added to his scorecard. However, no one had seen the error and the temptation was there for him to ignore the rule.
He didn't and was asked later why he did not decide to cheat. He replied that he did not make the decision not to cheat in that crucible, rather it was a decision he made years ago at the start of his career.
Setting his personal ethical boundary and not crossing it despite the circumstance or pressure made deciding whether or not to cheat a non-decision.
The same can be said of the death penalty. Australia does not have capital punishment and is correct to oppose it elsewhere.
Australians should accept that it is wrong in any circumstance. That way, when the pressure is on, we do not vacillate.