BoumTAC

The Lindy Effect and Capital Punishment

Published on January 8, 2026

Being "lindy" means resisting the test of time. Walking, drinking alcohol or coffee, religions , eating bread, singing and playing music — all these practices span millennia and persist for a reason.

Among these lindy elements is a practice that disturbs: capital punishment. Abolished in most Western countries only a few decades ago, it has nonetheless accompanied humanity since its origins. From Hammurabi's code enumerating 25 capital crimes based on the law of retaliation, to England's "Bloody Code" which counted 222 offenses punishable by death, this ultimate sanction has traversed civilizations.

If capital punishment persisted for so long, perhaps there was a reason.

When reality catches up with idealism

At the end of August, the murder of Irina Zaroutska shocked public opinion. This woman was savagely murdered in public transport by a man suffering from psychiatric disorders, already convicted for 14 offenses including armed robbery. This case, as atrocious as it may be, is unfortunately not isolated.

A disturbing question arises: could this tragedy have been avoided in a system applying capital punishment? Can we leave at liberty individuals who are manifestly dangerous to society? And ultimately, what is more humane: locking up for life a man already disturbed in a cell, or applying the capital sentence?

The more years pass, the more it becomes difficult to ignore this reality: capital punishment might be necessary to protect society from a tiny minority of individuals unfit for social life, impossible to reintegrate.

The mathematics of crime

Beyond capital punishment, statistics reveal a troubling reality: 80% of crimes are committed by repeat offenders who have already been arrested at least three times. A tiny minority of the population therefore concentrates most criminal activity.

If these individuals were effectively imprisoned for life or for very long sentences, crime would mechanically drop by 80% overnight.

This statistical reality also sheds new light on questions of stereotypes and discrimination. The vast majority of citizens, regardless of their origin, are law-abiding people. Only a minuscule fraction poses problems. If this harmful minority were effectively sanctioned instead of being released, prejudices and community tensions would naturally diminish.

The economic impact of insecurity

The absence of justice doesn't just create human dramas. It also generates major economic distortions, particularly visible in the real estate market.

In the United States, the system functions through distinct neighborhoods: on one side the rich and secure zones, on the other the ghettos abandoned by the rule of law. Chicago offers a striking example: two-thirds of the city (the south and west) live in a parallel real estate economy where prices are 60 to 70% lower than the rest of the city, simply because people fear being murdered there.

This spatial segregation of crime is neither normal nor desirable, but it reveals a brutal truth: when justice no longer protects, citizens vote with their feet — and their wallets.

France presents a different but equally revealing model. Historically, we too had our ghetto neighborhoods and entire departments reputed to be dangerous, like Seine-Saint-Denis. But now, the strategy consists of "spreading the misery": dispersing insecurity rather than fighting it. The result? It becomes less geographically visible but omnipresent throughout the territory.

This French approach, while avoiding the formation of absolute ghettos, doesn't eradicate the problem. It merely dilutes it, creating a diffuse sense of insecurity that progressively gangrenes the entire society. Instead of a few lost but circumscribed zones, it's the totality of the territory that suffers a progressive degradation of security and, by ricochet, quality of life.

Capital Punishment in Politics

The lindy effect also applies to governance. Historically, societies have often sentenced to death leaders who destroyed the country through incompetence or corruption. This served as a powerful deterrent against abuses of power.

In ancient Greece, in Athens, politicians could be exiled or worse for mismanagement. But it was in the Roman Republic that this was most systematic. Corrupt or traitorous magistrates were tried by popular assemblies and risked execution for crimes like embezzlement or high treason. For example, during the Catilinarian conspiracy in 63 B.C., Cicero, as consul, had the conspirators executed without trial, accused of plotting against the Republic, thus preventing potential ruin of the state. Later, under the proscriptions of Sulla or Caesar, dozens of senators and generals were put to death for harming the res publica.

This lindy practice protected society by encouraging leaders to avoid destructive arbitrariness. Today, in France, we tolerate missteps: the exorbitant expense reports of Anne Hidalgo in Paris, suspicions of European fund misappropriations by Marine Le Pen and the National Front, or communist mayors who impose rent controls, draining the real estate market and impoverishing cities. Without real threat, these practices persist, to the detriment of the country.

Rediscovering the lindy balance

Penal sanctions are also lindy. Since time immemorial, societies have punished delinquents. It's not about returning to the corporal punishments of yesteryear, but recognizing that the current security problem comes precisely from abandoning this ancestral principle.

Delinquents are no longer punished. That's where the break with the lindy effect lies.

It's not necessarily necessary to restore capital punishment to rediscover this balance. Simply applying the existing Penal Code would already be a good start — even if this proposal today suffices to be treated as a "neo-Nazi" by a large part of the political class.

Yet, if the Penal Code exists, there's a reason. It's been there for over 200 years, after all. Perhaps it would be time to question the wisdom it contains, rather than ignoring it in the name of a progressivism that, manifestly, no longer protects anyone.

The Lindy Effect reminds us of a disturbing truth: what survives for a long time often survives for good reasons. Even when it disturbs our modern sensibilities.