Colombo Questions Meet Alabama Gas

When President Anura Kumara Dissanayake sat down with Sri Lankans in the United States, the questions were anything but polite. Why not bring back the death penalty for drug dealers, they demanded. Why, if the government is serious about crime, is the ultimate punishment still off the table?

As the President defended his government’s approach, across America a different drama was unfolding. In Alabama, Kenneth Smith — a death row inmate sentenced for a 1988 murder-for-hire — was being strapped to a gurney for what would become the first execution in U.S. history by nitrogen gas.

The Execution Story Everyone Was Whispering About

Smith had already survived a botched lethal injection attempt. Now, masked officials prepared to flood his lungs with pure nitrogen, cutting off oxygen until death. Nitrogen flowed for about fifteen minutes. Witnesses reported that Smith shook, writhed and gasped before his breathing slowed.

So how does nitrogen execution actually work? The science is chilling in its simplicity. Humans need oxygen to survive. Replace the air we breathe with nitrogen, and the body begins to suffocate without the burning sensation of drowning or smoke inhalation. Experts call it “nitrogen hypoxia”: oxygen is displaced, the brain starves, and consciousness is supposed to fade.

But “supposed to” is the sticking point. Doctors warn there is no guarantee when — or if — a prisoner loses consciousness. If the mask isn’t sealed tight, oxygen seeps in and the process drags on. If the condemned vomits into the mask, choking and asphyxiation are real possibilities. Some scientists even predicted seizures, thrashing, or gasping known as agonal breathing. In Smith’s case, witnesses described minutes of writhing and heavy breaths before the body finally stilled.

Alabama officials insisted nothing unusual occurred. Critics called it a form of torture masquerading as science.

Back to the President’s Q&A

For Sri Lankans listening to Dissanayake in the U.S., the timing was impossible to ignore. On the same night they pressed him on the death penalty for drug traffickers, an American state was experimenting with a new execution method.

It gave the gossip-hungry diaspora plenty to chew on: the president of a small island nation being grilled about capital punishment while, thousands of miles away, the richest democracy was testing out a controversial new way to kill a man.

The contradiction hung in the air. Could Sri Lanka revive the death penalty just as parts of America are grappling with the ethics of execution? Or was this yet another moment when Colombo’s politics collided with a headline from elsewhere, giving everyone something to whisper about over their tea?