The Abolition Within

Written on the occasion of Robert Badinter’s entry into the Panthéon on 9 October 2025, inspired by his reflections on the meaning of abolition. This text honours his legacy and invites families to practice abolition within.

We abolish first inside ourselves. A family does not endure by perfect rules, but by a shared decision to refuse the irreversible sentence that turns a mistake into a destiny. The tribunal familial is real. It convenes in looks, in silences, in verdicts that freeze a son as careless, a daughter as stubborn, a sibling as rival. Because justice among kin is human and fallible, it has no right to be absolute. Every sanction must leave a path back. We prefer correction to humiliation, time to stigma, and dialogue to exile.

This choice rests on a principle both rational and sacred. Rational, because continuity requires the growth of each member. Sacred, because the person before me has an irreducible value that anger cannot erase. To govern a family is to recognise both truths at once. Love is not indulgence. It is the discipline that safeguards growth. In our partnership, four pillars carry this discipline. Trust invites openness. Respect guards dignity. Communication keeps reality in view. Forgiveness converts error into learning. Forgiveness is not leniency. It is the institutional form of a first principle. No one may be deprived of the chance to become better. As Victor Hugo expressed, in a line Robert Badinter chose to defend his cause, one has no right to deprive another of becoming better.

There is in every lineage a latent instinct to destroy by exclusion. Governance exists to contain that instinct and to convert it into cooperation. We do not deny harm. We deny its right to define the future. The sacred worth of the person and the rational needs of continuity are not opposed. Together they define our duty of care. Education, reflection, and accountable freedom turn a second chance into a plan and a plan into progress.

The conscience is our quiet judge. It does not shout. It reminds. Reason curbs passion so that memory serves truth rather than resentment. Families that thrive create forums for dialogue where facts are examined, responsibility is named, and repair is organised. In such houses, abolition is not an event but a practice. We abolish the urge to condemn without recourse, the habit of naming a culprit when a remedy is needed, and the pleasure of being right at the cost of being together. In doing so, we protect what we are trying to pass on.

W.