“A wax head with his own hair had to suffice”: the horror of Jeremy Bentham’s ‘auto-icon’

In death, however, Bentham took on a new purpose: as his own memorial.

What was Jeremy Bentham’s ‘auto-icon’?

According to the will he wrote a week before dying on 6 June 1832, aged 84, his body was bequeathed to his friend, Dr Thomas Southwood Smith, with the instructions it be dissected in the name of medical science. A select group of acquaintances were in attendance.

Afterwards, and still in accordance with Bentham’s wishes, Southwood Smith then preserved and stuffed the body, before it was dressed in Bentham’s clothes, positioned on a chair (“in the attitude in which I am sitting when engaged in thought in the course of time employed in writing,” suggested the will) and placed in a display case.

• On the podcast | The Enlightenment: Everything you wanted to know

This ‘auto-icon’ had many utilitarian uses, Bentham envisaged, and he expressed his hopes for it to become a common practice. An auto-icon, he wrote in a pamphlet, can “diminish the horrors of death” and “set curiosity in motion”; aide “medical education” and save money on funeral rites (an atheist, he considered these costs to be “grievous”); and act as a commemoration “better than a statue”.

As for his auto-icon, the finished result was not quite what he asked for. Bentham wanted his head to be mummified using the practices seen among the Māori of New Zealand. He even carried in his pocket the appropriate glass eyes for this job for years. But the process went badly wrong, leaving the skin disfigured and discoloured.

Rather than display this disturbing result, a wax head of Bentham, complete with some of his own hair, had to suffice.

• Read more | How to make an Egyptian mummy in six steps

Where is Jeremy Bentham’s ‘auto-icon’ now?

Today, the auto-icon remains on display, greeting people at the entrance of the student centre at University College London (UCL), who acquired it in 1850 from Southwood Smith. Bentham is a spiritual founding father of UCL and the auto-icon became something of an honorary mascot over the years, as well as the subject of numerous stories.

One such rumour claims that it is carried into the college’s council meetings, where its attendance is recorded as “present but not voting”. In truth, this has only happened once, to mark the retirement of the provost, Sir Malcolm Grant, in 2013.

The poorly mummified head, which was initially placed at the auto-icon’s feet before being rehomed in a wooden box near the display case, has also been part of UCL history. Namely, it has been caught up in the fierce rivalry with King’s College London (KCL).

In 1975, the head was stolen and ransomed for a donation to charity – UCL handed over £10 for its safe return – then, during another abduction, KCL students supposedly used it as a football. One cursory glance at the head’s fragility, plus the absence of any marks that look like they were made by a football boot, however, is enough to know that this claim cannot possibly be true.

Now, the head remains safely stored in the conservation safe of UCL’s Institute of Archaeology. Visitors to the auto-icon will have to make do with the wax facsimile, which is unquestionably less gruesome.