This essay explores the Spanish Inquisition’s attention to individuals who identified with Protestant Christianity. In the 1520s, inquisitors first attempted to prohibit the smuggling of books. By the 1530s, they were also willing track Spanish Protestant sympathizers abroad, via family members of the suspects as well as networks of spies, and have them repatriated for punishment. The discovery of Spanish Protestant cells in Seville and Valladolid in the late 1550s -- whose members often intellectual and socioeconomic elites -- stunned the inquisitorial establishment, which did not succeed in catching all the suspects. Exceptional punishments even for the penitent were allowed by Pope Paul IV; dozens of individuals were burned at the stake in autos de fe between 1559 and 1562. The discovery of Protestants in the heart of Spain also facilitated the arrest of the archbishop of Toledo, Bartolomé de Carranza, whose seventeen-year trial became notorious. Eventually, Spanish monarchs had to make concessions to foreign Protestants for political and economic reasons, and Spanish inquisitors only encountered scattered, small groups of native believers.

This chapter describes the development towards more substantial legislative activity and governmental involvement in financial conflict resolution, with special attention to the Low Countries. While execution procedures once had a strong individual focus, over time creditors’ rights were increasingly balanced by collectivizing legal solutions. For a long time, legal solutions for insolvency strongly criminalized the insolvent (then called bankrupt, fallitus), seeking to stimulate honest and prudent conduct among citizens by deterrence. The failure to fulfil one’s obligations was indiscriminately punished by shaming rituals in many parts of Europe. While these defamatory practices proliferated well into the early modern period, they seem to have disappeared from the legal treatment of insolvencies in seventeenth-century Amsterdam. This signifies a crucial change in public mentalities, which allowed for the introduction of a more lenient and efficient insolvency regime.

Medieval English law set the killing of a husband by his wife apart from most other homicides, because it was perceived as particularly serious and disruptive of the social order. Husband-killers were burned, not hanged, as a spectacular demonstration of condemnation and concern for this social problem. As this chapter shows, however, husband-killing also presented legal problems. There was a doctrinal puzzle in terms of the unclear extent to which this offence should be assimilated to treason, as opposed to homicide: the later distinction between ‘high treason’ against the king, crown or government, and ‘petty treason’ against a domestic superior did not come into being as neatly as sometimes assumed. There were also struggles on a procedural level, as attempts were made to fit husband-killing into common law modes of prosecution, prompting some creative strategies on the part of those seeking to secure a conviction.

In this chapter, a particular form of intercession, namely snatching from the gallows, highlights how the existence of different moral codes could generate tension in society. An insistence on mercy, especially but not exclusively found in ecclesiastical discourse, conflicted with the logic of imperial law, which did foresee the death penalty for certain crimes. In recognition of this moral imperative, we see emperors recalling at the last moment from the scaffold individuals whom they had themselves condemned, whilst the people and especially monks also interrupted executions. The usually lenient way in which emperors dealt with such illegal actions shows how upholding the legal order stood in tension with the virtue that was expected of the emperor.

Disappointed by this second defeat, Catiline formed a conspiracy to overthrow the government and install himself in power. He acted in league with C. Manlius, who had gathered a band of Sullan veterans and other malcontents in Faesulae (in Etruria). Cicero’s warnings to the senate were at first disbelieved. But when the conspirators’ rising in Etruria was independently confirmed, he obtained the senatus consultum ultimum authorizing him as consul to act in the defense of the state. The waiting continued until, on the night of 6–7 November, assassins appointed by Catiline appeared at Cicero’s door. He had, however, been forewarned and denied them entry. That event spurred Cicero to denounce Catiline in the senate (Catilinarian 1), leading Catiline to depart Rome. Though further conspirators remained in the City, Cicero was able to obtain evidence against them and a decree of the senate calling for their execution, which he supervised.

The imposition and execution of the death penalty are not per se violations of general international law and thus may amount to lawful sanctions in certain circumstances. This is so, even though the global trend towards the ending of capital punishment continues. As of August 2024, 53 States retained the death penalty for ordinary criminal offences. This chapter discusses the legality of capital punishment and its different forms. Certain categories of person may never be executed.

This chapter addresses the question of how the realization of public interests by competitive tendering is affected by the preceding stage of limitation and the succeeding stage of execution of limited rights. For some types of limited rights, for example authorizations, the public interests involved seem primarily related to the need for limiting the number of these rights (instead of allocating them). By contrast, the award of public contracts focusses more naturally on the allocation stage of competitive tendering. Furthermore, the relationship between the allocation stage and the subsequent execution stage does not seem to be univocal. Whereas the sale of assets seems to depart from the assumption that public interests are satisfied once the assets are transferred, for other limited rights the execution stage seems almost as relevant for the promotion of public interests as the allocation stage itself. This chapter seeks to explain why different outcomes in the relationship between limitation, allocation and execution can be observed across different types of limited rights and to explore whether some common denominator can be identified with regard to this relationship.

Chapter 6 focuses on the men who were caught in the act of trying to start the intended rebellion. They were all free people of African descent, yet some among them also invited enslaved people to join the rebellion. Thus, relations between enslaved and free people are at the center of this chapter. The ways in which these people talked about freedom and bondage with one another presents a picture in which it is impossible to say that the conspiracy was definitively anti- or pro-slavery. There were some men who took abolition of slavery quite seriously, and there were others who had no interest in the matter whatsoever. Those who fit the latter group were connected to a shadowy group of elite white men who had been planning their own rebellion. Evidence of these white men’s participation in a conspiracy showed up frequently during a significant number of different men’s interrogations. The High Court chose to ignore or dismiss all such claims, clearing the way for them to transform the collective insurgencies of 1798 into a so-called Pardo conspiracy, free from confusion, free from uneven relations, and unconnected to the aims of elite white men.

Chapter 2 defines leadership and outlines a leadership approach to studying China’s politics and economy, centered on the top-ranked individuals in public-sector organizations. It explains how the autonomy of Chinese public-sector leaders originates from multiple sources: the discretion built into the CCP’s cadre management system, guanxi (关系) with superiors and allies, decentralization of authority in the Chinese bureaucracy, and policy ambiguity and uncertainty. It critically reviews recent studies of China’s politics and economy to uncover the importance and influence of leadership. It concludes by discussing how a leadership approach helps to account for divergence, inaction, and subversion in reform outcomes.

The transition from one culture of governance to another explains the character and timing of changes in the nature, location and scale of English executions from 1660 to 1900. Traditional landed elites adhered both to a “Bloody Code,” whose enforcement against common criminals could be regularly adjusted through consultations between trial judges and themselves, and to the occasional use of prolongedly agonizing execution rituals against traitors. The men who dominated England’s uniquely extensive and steadily expanding urban realms, and embraced new cultures of desacralization, feeling and reason, increasingly viewed the purposes, numerical extent and staging of executions differently. As the numbers and power of urbane people grew, first the extent and finally the practices of execution were adjusted accordingly. The many paradoxes of “feeling”, however, ensured their continued commitment to execution for murder, and some measure of hypocrisy in their views of executions and the people who attended them.

Recent historians usually see Home Secretary Robert Peel as a committed opponent of real criminal law reforms, content to hang large numbers of people. He did indeed enter office determined to diffuse reform momentum in parliament and succeeded in doing so, but only for a time. In fact, in pursuing the two reforms that William Paley deemed crucial to relinquishing the “Bloody Code” – preventive policing and more deterrent secondary punishments – Peel behaved like someone who believed his concessions might not hold back the tide of urbane public opinion for long. This was also apparent in his alterations to sentencing practices at assizes and his increasingly careful attention to execution levels in London. Even his consolidation measures were of more genuinely humane consequence than is usually recognized. Indeed, so adaptable to urbane opinion did Peel seem to his older, more determinedly conservative colleagues that by 1830 he inspired their distrust.

Chapter 2, “The Killing Years,” explains the two-wave Nazi police genocide against the intelligentsia in 1939–1940, its fallout, and how these initial killing campaigns shaped the Nazi German occupation administration for Poland. German anti-intelligentsia campaigning was bloody but ultimately drove the resistance it attempted to thwart. The first campaign, codenamed Operation Tannenberg, was coordinated with the military campaign in 1939 but delayed in Warsaw because of the siege. Tannenberg went awry and was complicated by the circumstances of the invasion and incoming occupation. After Nazi Germany established a civilian occupation under general governor Hans Frank, Frank revived anti-intelligentsia killing with his new campaign, the Extraordinary Pacification Action (AB-Aktion). This campaign’s violence shocked Poles and provoked the resistance it was intended to achieve. This chapter argues that the two Nazi genocidal campaigns failed but shaped the nature of Nazi occupation administration, and encouraged the first violent Polish resistance in response.

The envoyship of Abū Jaʿfar al-ʿAmrī generated expectations of succession, culminating in Ibn Rawḥ al-Nawbakhtī’s accession to the role upon his death. Quasi-Imamic mechanisms of designation (naṣṣ) and initiatic inheritance (waṣiyya) were invoked to support this. However, it is argued in Chapter 6 that long-present pressures against a centralizing Imamate now led to the collapse of the envoyship. Ibn Rawḥ fell afoul of the complex machinations of the ʿAbbasid court. He was imprisoned, then was challenged by his aide, Shalmaghānī, who claimed to embody Imamate and divinity. Ibn Rawḥ issued a denunciation of Shalmaghānī, and the caliph al-Rāḍī had him executed as a heretic. However, soon after Ibn Rawḥ’s death, a rescript from the hidden Imam declared the termination of the office of envoy. Thereafter, the diffuse leadership of earlier elites, especially scholars, came to replace the centralizing bureaucratic leadership of the envoys, and the defunct envoyship was canonized as orthodox history.

Chapter 4 argues in favor of seeing medieval justice as penitential justice with the ultimate goal of spiritual reform. Medieval society blurred the lines between sin and crime, penance and punishment. Recognizing this distortion is how one makes sense of peine forte et dure. Pain as an experience is key to the performance of penance. Through physical pain, the disordered soul is righted and the sinner gains entrance to heaven. Fasting, seclusion, denial of luxuries – these are all ascetic practices with a long association with Christian penance. Even pressing with weights appears as a penitential practice in numerous sermon stories from the era. Exposing the uncooperative sinner to an ascetic lifestyle, even if it was against his wishes, was in the best interests of the defendant’s soul. As a coercive measure, it helped to begin the process of purging his sin before he agreed to place himself in the hands of the jury. As such, he displayed to jurors his willingness to reform his ways and reconcile with the Christian community.

This chapter examines the ECtHR’s supranational authority in detail analyzing the Court’s classical function of providing judicial review, its remedial practice as well as the new advisory jurisdiction as introduced by Protocol 16. Acknowledging that the ECHR system cannot be connected to a larger autonomous political unit, the claim is put forward is that the ECtHR nonetheless provides for a complementary layer of public authority which directly operates on individuals alongside that of domestic legal systems. The ECtHR enjoys a broad measure of autonomy over states and may circumvent the state veil by placing individuals under international protection or responsibilizing domestic authorities. The direct interaction with domestic actors not only represents part of the Court’s supranational authority but informs, at the same time, its legitimacy as the Convention community feeds on domestic actors, individuals especially, directly submitting their arguments to the Court.

Carrying out the innovation creation and delivery plan that was created in the first execution stage is the aim of this final level of The Innovation Pyramid. Launching new innovations has challenges beyond those of a typical internal-company project in that they generally involve collaborators and adopters outside the innovation-creating organization. This means that multiple environments and multiple points-of-view, in addition to the innovation-creator's internal environment and point-of-view, must be appraised. A modification of Drucker's core management-by-objective framework is introduced to assure alignment of all the people and activities associated with the plan's successful implementation.

The remainder of the chapter focuses on performing a post-execution variance evaluation of the plan's implementation. Such a review allows the implementation team to hone in on the learnings attained from carrying out the developed plan. All four aspects of the plan are reviewed: Operations, Delivery, Resources and Risks. A poor plan execution does not automatically mean the implementation team underperformed. The issue may lie with people or environments well beyond the core team.