By Graeme Wood Yesterday, in an interview aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth said the United States would soon carry out its first public execution since the 1930s. “We’ll make sure that people are able to watch it,” he said. Pentagon officials later confirmed that the execution will be livestreamed.

The condemned man is former Major Nidal Hasan, who shouted “God is great” in Arabic before murdering 13 people at Fort Hood in 2009. Hegseth’s rationale for following this ancient practice is the same one offered by the ancients themselves: publicizing the agony of death and its unhygienic aftermath will remind onlookers that, in Hegseth’s words, there are “serious consequences” for treason. “No-brainer,” Hegseth said.

This pitiful creep—Hasan, I mean—deserves what he is probably going to get in December. The rest of us, however, will be ill-served by the spectacle of his execution. Many past criminals have had their head publicly cut off, or body nailed to a cross and left to rot there, as exemplary punishment. Such executions were once considered entertainment. Now the idea of recreationally watching a man be killed is so strange that few people understand what the experience will be like.

Watching people die by violence, even if those people have it coming, damages the spectator irreversibly. I don’t mean physical or emotional damage, though many who see unnatural deaths up close do vomit and suffer from uneasy dreams afterward. Rather, I mean something more like the loss of their humanity and dignity, through partaking in the process of treating a person—in many ways so similar to themselves—like a machine to be turned off or ripped apart, a malfunctioning printer or an old car.

To see this process is to be diminished, and the decision to make the execution visible to all is an invitation to self-harm, sent out to everyone with an internet connection. It is hard to appreciate how awful this viewing experience will be, until you have it. And then of course it will be too late. I have seen videotaped executions and have been diminished by every single one.

In August 2014, Hasan wrote a letter from prison to Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, then the leader of the Islamic State, and asked to be granted citizenship as a “soldier of Allah.”No response was recorded. Ironically, it seems likely that Hasan would sympathize with Hegseth’s penchant for public execution, because the Islamic State interpreted the Quran to require that execution be carried out in public. Fornicators, according to Quran 24:2, should be flogged, and their punishment should be “witnessed” by a “group of believers.”

By extension, the Islamic State determined, such a group should witness the punishment of all scripturally ordained crimes. Certain crimes, such as brigandage, are to be punished with crucifixion, an inherently public method of killing that the Islamic State carried out on video. Regrettably, I have seen footage of such a death.

In the years before Hasan’s 2013 court-martial, he stopped shaving, in Islamic defiance of Army regulations that prohibit soldiers from growing beards. Mike Simpson, an Army officer and emergency-room doctor near the facility where Hasan was incarcerated, told me a few years later that he put the word out to colleagues that if Hasan ever had a medical emergency (not unlikely, given that he suffered paralysis and other conditions after being gunned down in the course of his terror attack), Simpson would like to be called to shave Hasan personally. The shaving would arise out of medical necessity—the patient might need a mask, with a reliable seal around the face—but Simpson, for his own pleasure, wanted to shear the bastard himself.

But the pleasure that might come from shaving Hasan would be quite different from what one might experience by shooting him in the heart. The Army won’t struggle to find a dozen willing soldiers to act as an execution party for Hasan. Hasan has said he wants death. Hegseth said he “doesn’t care” what Hasan’s final wishes might be. But I suspect that the volunteers’ enjoyment of their duty will be dampened if they notice signs of ecstasy from Hasan, as he is tied to a post 15 paces away from them and prays his way to the end.

Hamlet could not bring himself to kill Claudius in prayer, because killing him in the midst of a holy act—“to take him in the purging of his soul, when he is fit and season’d for his passage”—would be too merciful.

In this world, denying Hasan the pleasure of death on his own terms, and letting him instead spend a few more earthly decades in tedious incarceration, would seem a much more onerous punishment. Therefore I would propose an alternative to public execution: public incarceration. Hasan should be placed in a small space, with a Pentagon-funded livestream of his remaining years. If the purpose of the spectacle of his death is to demonstrate to others the “serious consequences” of murdering 13 people, I doubt any execution would be more frightening than the slow, public aging of this repulsive murderer, as biology and time carry out his sentence.

I would tune in to the livestream myself now and then, until I grew bored and found better things to do, and better ways to spend my own remaining time. This would take Hasan’s life and make from it a small gift to the rest of us, rather than taking something irrecoverable from us as we give martyrdom to him.