A 62-grain, 5.56-mm round leaves the barrel of a standard-issue M4 rifle at approximately 2,900 feet per second. When it strikes a human being, the results are violent, traumatic, and unpredictable. If Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth has his way, such images will soon be broadcast to the American people. The Pentagon has announced that the execution of Nidal Hasan, the Army officer convicted of killing 13 fellow service members in a 2009 mass shooting at Fort Hood, in Texas, will be livestreamed.

According to Amnesty International, 17 people were publicly executed in 2025. Eleven of these were in Iran and six in Afghanistan. Is this what we have become? Iran? Afghanistan? Are we so weak, so insecure, that we must convince the world that we are still powerful by making a public spectacle of an execution? Or maybe Secretary Hegseth and President Trump intend this as a spectacle for the American people: a show of just how much testosterone the two men have surging through their veins.

No one should shed a tear for Hasan. I certainly won’t. But if Hegseth thinks that this public display will somehow deter others from horrible acts of violence, he is mistaken. Terrorists seek attention above all. Publicizing Hasan’s death therefore could incite other extremists to do equally egregious acts. And it adds to the narrative, advanced by our enemies and ever more worrying to our allies, that the United States has lost its way.

When Osama bin Laden was killed, President Obama made a point of not releasing photographs of his body. “It’s not who we are,” he said. All of us who were involved in the operation agreed. Not sharing the pictures was a recognition that we are better than the inhuman beings who do unconscionable things, that there was a difference between a legitimate exercise of government authority and a public display of coercive power. Now, with this announcement, we are lowering ourselves to the ranks of brutal and failing regimes.

I teach a graduate class on national-security decision making. I give my students a framework for thinking about how to make difficult decisions. The first question they have to answer before they can get to the right decision is: Who are we as a nation? It is an acknowledgment that all correct decisions, those that will benefit us in the long run, will flow from an understanding of our American values.

Our values as a nation matter. It’s not naive to think that we should have a sense of propriety when carrying out the harsh business of justice; to believe in our national sense of honor; and to expect our leaders to behave with dignity, integrity, civility, and humility. These values build stronger, smarter, more humane societies. They engender good alliances. They drive trust in businesses and higher education and they inspire our men and women in uniform.

In almost 40 years of service, I came to realize that Americans share a common longing to be seen as the good guys. We were proud that our parents or grandparents fought against Nazism and fascism. As a nation, we stood tall against totalitarianism and communism. A younger generation sacrificed to keep America safe after 9/11. We made mistakes along the way; we always do. But despite these stumbles, inevitable in a complicated and violent world, I never once doubted that within our DNA was a sense of nobility that shaped the American character.

There is nothing noble about a public display of a government-sanctioned execution. With this decision, the Trump administration continues to undermine our national values. Our current leaders are shameless and ignoble. They have no sense of dignity or honor. They seem to believe that the performance of cruel power is what makes a nation great: the spectacle, the show, the crude theatrics of a tough guy. Nothing could be further from the truth. Just ask the oppressed people of Iran and Afghanistan.