Who Could Hate a Baby?

The birth of George Alexander Louis Windsor, son of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, heir to the throne of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, has been the cause of much joy and celebration on that ancient isle, and much comment and fascination here in its former colonies. With all the news coverage it has received here in the States, you'd think it was our own future king who'd been born.

There has also been a counter-reaction, though, by some who have no interest in a royal baby and can't see why others would have any. Some seem to be Robespierre reincarnated, using the opportunity to denounce monarchy, even in its current largely de-fanged form. Some seem to be conjuring the spirit of Thomas Jefferson, excoriating their fellow Americans for taking any interest in the happenings of their former colonial masters.

I have no problem with someone being disinterested in this event. I do have a problem when it turns to hatred. It's one thing to say, "Man, who cares about a royal wedding or royal birth? It's got nothing to do with us!" It's another thing to say, "Who cares about the stupid royal baby? The little brat's going to live a spoiled life of privilege off of the backs of normal folks."

Whoa! Hold on! You just made it personal. What did this baby ever do to you? This is a baby we're talking about here. Far from oppressing or denying anyone their rights, this little guy has barely done more than eat, sleep, and spit up in his short life.

How can you look at a baby and be filled with hate? "Oh, it's not the baby I hate; it's all the attention he's getting," you might respond. Then why did you call the baby stupid and a brat? Why spew forth this venom in the baby's direction? Make sure that the guns of your criticism aren't aimed at innocent parties.

Every single human being born into the world is a gift from God. Yes, some babies garner more public attention than others, which is bound to happen, just as you care more about the death of your favorite athlete or actor than the death of the uncle of the guy you lives three houses away from you whose name you can't quite remember but you still wave to him when you're both getting the mail at the same time. This baby boy is a blessing to his family, and to the nation for whom he will be a symbol. If you don't care for the fanfare he gets, then criticize the fanfare; don't hate on the baby.