There’s a new royal baby. Have you heard? (It’s a prince, by the way.) Your reaction to this news probably puts you into one of two camps.
Those in one camp find it strangely fascinating and they’re eager to hear more about it. Those in the other camp not only couldn’t care less, but are actively irritated by the event being treated as noteworthy. Count me among the second group.
It’s easy to make fun of interest in the royal family. I’ve done my share of it in the past and I’ve been seeing a lot of it again lately because of the birth of this child. But something hit me Monday that’s making me think about it in a new way. I’m not certain I’m right, but I suspect there’s truth to it.
Lurking inside almost everyone is a desire for someone to tell us what to do and take care of us. Consciously or not, most people have a deep need for someone to be “in charge.” I suspect that interest in royalty of any kind is a remnant of a desire that’s played itself out for hundreds or thousands of generations of our ancestors.

Why can beauty hurt so much? Why do I see her face in the sky?
How much can human heart take when inner winter lasts forever?
As sowing comes before reaping, culture comes before politics
Obsession with partisan hatred diverts you from economic truth
To save my own sanity, it’s time for me to shut up about Trump
When people push inner buttons, it’s easy to spiral down into dark
In denial? Isn’t it time to accept that elections won’t change anything?