IT appears to be a thoroughly modern phenomenon.
Created through a unique conspiracy of social media and the anger generated by an ever more polarised society.
The death threat.
It seems a day doesn’t go by without a politician, celebrity or sports person reporting that they have been issued with a warning of mortal retribution.
I’m not going to belittle death threats but I do think that there needs to be a bit of perspective here.
The increasingly bitter nature of politics – exacerbated by the wedge that Brexit has driven through the middle of Britain – has led to a rise in threats of violence against our politicians.
Female MPs in particular have complained of increasing amounts of threats of violence against them – not just on social media, but in telephone calls to their offices and in graffiti messages scrawled outside their constituency offices, or worse, bricks thrown through their windows.
It is only just over three years since the death of Labour MP Jo Cox, murdered in her Batley and Spen constituency in Yorkshire.
She was killed by Thomas Mair, an unemployed loner with links to white supremacist and Nazi groups in the UK and USA.
Jo Cox was the first British MP to be murdered since Ian Gow, a Conservative MP killed by the Provisional IRA in 1990.
Her death is a shocking reminder that there are individuals who don’t believe in democracy and don’t want to debate with those who hold a contrary opinion.
And thank God, there are very few, who, like Thomas Mair, pursue their agenda to such a deadly conclusion.
As far as I’m aware, Mair had never previously made a threat against Jo Cox or anyone else.
His anger burned from within before he took a gun and a knife and confronted his local MP in front of Birstall library at lunchtime on a June day in 2016.
Those who harbour deadly intentions rarely broadcast them before they act.
Which suggests that the raft of death threats which are issued on a daily basis, usually anonymously via social media, are made by angry, inarticulate individuals who have no interest in rational debate.
I’d imagine that they hope that by instilling fear in those that they disagree with they will silence them.
So you could argue that by publicising such threats, the victims are not being silenced.
But does the publicity fuel others to copy such mindless behaviour.
I remember when I was a young journalist we were told not to write stories about bomb threats as they encouraged a raft of copycat bomb hoax calls.
Perhaps we do need to find a little perspective here.
Do the football “fans” who send death threats to the striker of a rival team who has scored against their own club actually mean it?
What about the person who this week sent BBC Breakfast presenter Mike Bushell a Twitter message warning him to quit Strictly Come Dancing or be a “dead man” after surviving Sunday’s dance-off?
He was chosen to remain in the competition ahead of former Coronation Street actress Catherine Tyldesley.
That clearly enraged one Corrie fan.
Threatening to kill somebody is a crime.
But if the police pursued every death threat made via social media, they would never have the time to pursue actual crimes of violence.
If you’ve ever seen the classic film 12 Angry Men there is a dramatic scene between two of the jurors, Henry Fonda and Lee J. Cobb.
Cobb believes the 18-year-old defendant is guilty of murder, Fonda says not guilty.
During feverish deliberations in the jury room, Cobb is angered by Fonda’s stance and infuriated when he is described as a sadistic public avenger by his fellow juror.
He turns on him and is held back by other jurors as he screams: “I’ll kill him!”
“You don’t really mean you’ll kill me, do you?” asks Fonda calmly.
We may all have muttered such words in anger or frustration.
It’s just that social media now provides an audience for such empty threats.
Years ago when I was London Editor of the Western Mail, the Welsh national daily newspaper, I used to get some great jobs such as interviewing Tom Jones and travelling to Paris to preview a climactic Wales match against France.
Not as high up the list of fond memories was when I was sent to cover the arrival of Cardiff City football supporters in the capital on the way to a match against Millwall.
Earlier in the season Millwall fans had run riot through the centre of Cardiff before a match, smashing shop windows and threatening locals.
In the days before social media was rife, Cardiff fans had threatened revenge via online fans forums.
I followed their arrival at Paddington Station where there was a huge police presence as the supporters were escorted onto a special Circle Line underground train to Victoria Station where they would then catch an overground train to the New Den in south London.
As they emerged from the tube into the light of the concourse at Victoria Station, the Cardiff fans were flanked by police officers in riot gear and growling police dogs.
As they were led towards their train they spat abuse at passersby and shouted vile chants.
Most of those watching shook their heads in disbelief, not quite able to comprehend that this anger, this bile, this seething bitterness towards their fellow human beings was a product of football allegiance.
I reported what happened in my story, accompanied by a graphic photograph of the angry mob and it appeared in Monday morning’s Western Mail accompanied by the headline: ‘Football fans shame Wales’.
Later that day I received a call from a colleague on the sports desk back at the newspaper’s head office in Cardiff.
Apparently death threats had been made against me in an online fans’ forum.
I said that I was not surprised that some Cardiff supporters might have taken umbrage at my reporting.
My colleague replied: “Oh no, it wasn’t Cardiff fans who made the death threats against you, it was supporters of Swansea.
“They were very angry that the headline on your story tarred all Welsh football fans, instead of just Cardiff.”
:::
A NUMBER of England rugby fans of my acquaintance have enjoyed their team’s progress towards the final of the Rugby World Cup.
After every successful match I’ve asked them if they are tempted to jump on an aeroplane to Japan and they’ve all said no.
Even after last week’s semi-final in which England beat the All Blacks with style, some still claimed they wouldn’t go.
Then when I called a few this week I got an overseas dial tone.
I know where you are.
They’ve swapped Yorkshire for Yokohama.
One of those is Neil Muffitt, an experienced finance director who is co-founder of national financial recruitment firm Woodrow Mercer Finance.
But to be fair to Muff, he does have a good pedigree when it comes to rugby, having played it and followed it for many years.
He was one of the creators and performers of the now legendary “Yorkshire Haka” which went viral on YouTube after it was performed outside a bar in New Zealand by fans on a Lions tour.
If you haven’t seen it, then it’s worth a watch.
And even if you have it’s worth another viewing to brighten up a soggy Friday morning at the start of November.
In this clip the BBC have helpfully added subtitles.
Which sounds chuffin’ crazy tha’ knows.
Or as we say nowadays, whatever.
:::
REGULAR readers will know I’m no fan of Halloween.
I find wishing anyone a “Happy Halloween!” totally bizarre.
I don’t want to decorate my home with pumpkins and pretend spiders’ webs (there are enough of the real things there already).
I don’t want to give money to sullen teenagers trick or treating who knock on my door.
And I certainly don’t want to don scary fancy dress and go to a party.
Yes I know I’m miserable.
But it makes me happy.
I went for a meeting at an office in Leeds yesterday which was decorated for Halloween and staff had made cakes and treats to celebrate.
One young lady asked me if I’d like a “Spooky Muffin’.
It was all a bit much.
I made my excuses and left.
Have a great weekend.