Mr Joko might have the power in his hands but he has no right as a human being in all good conscience to kill Myuran Sukumaran and Andrew Chan on the prison island of Nusakambangan. Should the president proceed regardless, a great opportunity - to reject the eye for an eye brutality that demeans us all as humans - will vanish in the time it takes to pull an executioner's trigger. An important opportunity will be gone for Indonesia to show the world it is a civilised nation willing and able to assume the moral high ground, when mercy and empathy demand it. A chance will be lost to show that Indonesia treats the citizens of other nations as it would its own when they too have erred grievously and been caught trafficking drugs overseas and are facing the death penalty just like the two convicted Australians. An opportunity gone to show that the Indonesian justice system isn't blinkered or susceptible to corruption but rather a bastion of due process and restorative justice.

Yet, for now, we have the abhorrent situation where the Indonesian state is about to shoot dead Sukumaran and Chan, along with criminals from the Philippines, France, Nigeria, Ghana, Indonesia and potentially a mentally ill Brazilian. The two Australians' lives are not worth more or less than the fellow condemned or the thousands of others executed in Indonesia and other nations each year. Neither does Australia want special treatment from Mr Joko. All Australians seek is common humanity. Killing a convicted drug trafficker will be a deterrent, the president's supporters say. Perhaps a little at best. Australians certainly knew before this case and still know now not to attempt drug smuggling in Indonesia. But some will keep trying, there and in other nations.

What's more, every organised crime operation will simply become more sophisticated, bribe more officials and find more vulnerable, naive people to carry drugs: paying them a bit more to offset the perception of greater risk of execution should they be caught. And at what cost this supposed deterrence? Yes, Indonesia's reputation will suffer, although that hardly matters. Governments are entitled to do what they do and face the consequences. But in the fight against crime, the Australian Federal Police will surely think twice about sharing information with their Indonesian counterparts as they did in this case, knowing that anyone caught there will be denied basic rights and due process. Many Australians who otherwise support the anti-drugs efforts of our police and foreign authorities will be even more sceptical and less likely to help.

And, above all, the cost will be a terrible one for every young person who might be trying to decide what is right and wrong in life. The execution will send an appalling message: that even if you do wrong there is no point in repentance, for you will be executed anyway by a state prepared to lower itself to the same base level as the lowest criminal. There is no point in trying to be a better person to help others as Sukumaran and Chan have done, either: your efforts will be all for nought. As a would-be miscreant or hardened criminal, you may as well operate on the assumption of an eye for an eye and put all your energies into not getting caught, giving yourself the right to be barbaric to anyone who challenges your plans. If it is good enough for the state to end a life, then why not me? As for the need to inflict pain on the offenders through execution, death may even bring sweet relief from the mental agony of not knowing when life will be taken away, not by some spiritual, greater being but by one man.

There are humane alternatives that achieve the goals of state-sanctioned murder plus many more - without the horrific costs. A life of incarceration is just as terrible a deterrent. Through the tragedies of the Bali bombings in 2002 and 2005, the Herald maintained Australia had to unequivocally oppose the death penalty not only on moral grounds but also if it wanted to be heard in other jurisdictions. The Bali bombers sought celebrity status, made no attempt at rehabilitation and sought martyrdom through death. But the Herald argued it would be "far less glamorous - far more effective, in the end - to leave them to rot in jail." When prisoners do repent, as Sukumaran and Chan have, they can help others who will be free some day, to contribute positively to society and work to support fellow citizens who might venture down the wrong path.

Execution means Indonesia loses that opportunity too. Sukumaran and Chan are not asking Mr Joko for freedom. They are asking for that most basic of human rights: their life. Australians are simply appalled that the pair were not given the chance to show how they had rehabilitated. The president did not fully examine their claims for clemency individually, as the Herald and most lawyers believe he was required to do under Indonesian law. Many Indonesians are similarly appalled at the fate that awaits the pair. As such, there is no reason for any Australians as fellow humans to take out their anger on Indonesians, their businesses or tourist destinations.

Only by rising above the cheap shots and petty rivalries will Australians be able to show more Indonesians and their leaders that the moral high ground where we stand is not an arrogant, dismissive and restricted place as Mr Joko and supporters of capital punishment would have you believe. The moral high ground is a place to which every human should aspire in our words and reach with our deeds. The Herald pleads with the President and his family to spare these lives.