And many more comments of a misogynistic and racist nature of which I’m not even going to partly reproduce here.

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What had they done to infuriate all of these people? Had the baby come straight from the womb flipping everyone off? Had Harry declared a colossal rise in taxes to fund the increase in his weekly food shop? Kicked a dog? Chucked a cat in a wheelie bin? (Remember this madness?)

No. Apparently being born was enough to send some people into a blind rage. All bets were off as their fingers furiously pounded their keyboards, eager to let everyone know just how little they gave a flying ****.

HOW WILL ANYONE KNOW HOW LITTLE I CARE IF I DON’T TELL THEM?

Let’s hit pause for a second here and give these people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the incessant media buzz for the past 9 months had finally worn a bit too thin. Perhaps they were just having a bad day (though this doesn’t excuse the blatant racism and misogyny.) But at the end of the day, whatever the reasoning behind it, you’re angry about a newborn baby.

A baby. He’s not done anything but cry and crap, and yet somehow that’s enough!

The shield of the internet

Photo by Glenn Carstens-Peters on Unsplash

So why are people so negative on the internet?

Short answer — because they can be.

Compared with real life the internet gives us a certain layer of anonymity, even when using our real name and displaying our real lives alongside it for all to see. There’s the disconnection from the human element. We all have this negative streak, but more often than not, in real life, we keep it in check. Imagine two scenarios.

Scenario A — The Keyboard Warrior

You see news of the birth of the royal baby. Naturally, you fly into a sheer rage and reach for your Keyboard of Justice. You type a scathing comment and hit enter. A ‘like’ appears. Maybe another one. You feel substantiated. Your work here is done.

Scenario B — The Punched in the Nose Warrior.

You see news of the birth of the royal baby. Naturally, you fly into a sheer rage, grab your car keys and drive to Westminster (if you’re international, maybe jump on a plane.) You avoid security and through some luck of the gods run into Prince Harry. You scream “I DON’T GIVE A **** ABOUT YOUR BABY!” into his face.

You get punched in the nose.