The woeful case of Jessi Slaughter proves one thing: you are never safe on the internet. Hell, you’re never safe on the street: should a hateful mob decide to rend you limb from limb there’d be little chance of stopping them. Still, it’s quite unlikely. There are people who’d be willing, yes, but they’re rare; scarcely meet; might be fazed by repercussions and, besides, would probably descend upon some other schmuck. On the internet, however, bullies don’t face punishment and can unite in the space of a few moment’s googling. You can only hope the baneful trolls don’t fix their gaze on you. Otherwise you’re screwed.

The woeful case of Jessi Slaughter actually proves two things. The term “hater” needs to be abandoned. It inspires the hated party to feel that their critics represent a validation of their work or demeanour. (See the luckless Jessi, or Paul Berman in the Wall Street Journal). No. At times the bubble of our self-esteem needs to be pricked. If your best response to critics is that they’re, er – critical, learn to hate thyself (well, not hate but – oh, Lord – now I’m doing it…).