The death penalty is a relic of a bygone era, a barbaric stain on a supposedly civilized world. Or is it? Let’s set aside, for a moment, the well-rehearsed human rights spiel and confront the stark realities before us.

In Cebu, authorities are pursuing justice in the case of a 15-year-old girl who died after being raped by several men. The details are gut-wrenching. If those accused are proven guilty, what penalty could ever be commensurate with such depravity?

Yet, in this crime-bedeviled country, the worst that could happen — assuming justice prevails — is that they’d languish in overcrowded prisons, their three square meals a day shouldered by taxpayers.

Across the Pacific, we see similar cases. In the United States, three men await execution for unspeakable acts — rape, the murder of children, and cold-blooded killings. A fourth, Jessie Hoffman, raped and murdered a 28-year-old woman in 1998.

Only this week, Hoffman, now 46, met his end via nitrogen gas asphyxiation — a method denounced by the United Nations as cruel and unusual punishment. That it evokes Nazi gas chambers may be of little concern to the family of the woman he brutally killed.

Tragedies like these are not unique, nor are the debates they spark. Have we become more humane as a society, or merely more vulnerable?

The arguments against capital punishment are well-known: its cruelty, the irreversible tragedy of wrongful convictions, and the disputed claim of deterrence. The first two demand serious consideration. The third, however, is worth scrutinizing.

The specter of wrongful convictions looms large. Of course, judicial systems are imperfect. Likewise, critics argue that life imprisonment without parole achieves the same end, without the moral cost. A noble ideal — if only it were practical.

In a system plagued by escapes, criminal operations from behind bars, and the ever-present specter of corruption, can we truly guarantee that a life sentence means a life sentence? No. Reclusion perpetua is actually good only for a maximum of 40 years.

We, as a people, once recognized the need for the death penalty for the most heinous crimes committed by drug lords, murderers, child rapists. Then, in an attempt to align with global standards, we abolished it.

But has our country become safer? In a nation where criminals seem to operate with impunity, where justice is often a commodity, the answer seems painfully clear.

The devil’s due, as they say, must be paid. The question remains: But who ultimately bears the cost — the innocent, or the undeniably guilty?