LAST Monday afternoon, feminist writer and republican Joan Smith was watching news reports from the streets around Buckingham Palace and St Mary's hospital, where the Duchess of Cambridge was in the process of giving birth.

Crowds were gathering, announced one reporter after another – yet on the accompanying footage, Smith could see little sign of this throng. Mostly what she saw was empty space, or, alternatively, crowds of global media.

So she decided to go down there and find out the real state of things. What she found, she recalls, was "a few people hanging around the traffic islands and the gates – no more than you would normally get on a very warm, lovely summer day". Smith believes what was being portrayed on screen was "a rather desperate prediction of what broadcasters expected rather than what was actually going on". The media, in other words, wanted a good news story, and that's what they delivered, losing their grip on fact and balance in the process.

That much was reflected in the relative absence from the coverage of republican voices like Smith's. In Smith's view this manipulation of the truth represents a "failure of journalism". When newspapers and broadcasters have declared, as they have frequently, that the world or the nation has been "waiting", "rejoicing" or "celebrating", they have misrepresented the true state of things. And in doing so, they are exhibiting the "last gasp of a culture of deference".

Is she right? Are we being sold a false story about a nation being in thrall to the monarchy, or is it real? And if it's not, could the hype actually serve to boost royalist feeling among the nation, so that the declarations of celebration become self-fulfilling? There is no real litmus test for the mood of a country. Opinion polls tell us that less than half of the British population are somewhere between "fairly" and "very" interested in this birth. But they do not give us a real sense of the mercurial moment-by-moment feeling.

That is what newspapers and broadcasters often attempt to do. Over the last week they have been making grand and sweeping declarations. On Monday's Newsnight, we learned that the royal couple "couldn't be happier" ... and nor, added a reporter, could the rest of us.

Meanwhile, the London-based newspapers, with the exception of The Independent, were almost falling over themselves to see who could make the most of the happy story. On day one, following the announcement that the Duchess of Cambridge was in labour, front pages showed the "royal easel" outside the hospital, announcing that a boy had been born. On day two they presented the "first royal wave" of a baby's fingers stretching into a new world. On day three the fact that his name was George was an excuse for another cover.

Many pages were devoted to spinning out this tale. Souvenir editions were created. The Sun even changed its masthead to The Son, in cheeky honour. The Daily Mail carried 19 pages of royal baby stories, including one piece about the number of complaints the BBC had received for overdoing its coverage. Everybody seemed to be accusing everybody else of going overboard – even to the extent of criticising their own excesses. BBC reporters such as Simon McCoy were heard reading out messages of complaint about the overkill. McCoy became a viral sensation for saying, from outside the hospital: "Plenty more to come from here, of course. None of it news."

Dissenting views, whether from republicans or simply people who aren't that enamoured by the royal family, have been pushed to the fringes to make way for these dominant peals of jubilation. They have been used as joke or filler material against a backdrop of overwhelmingly congratulatory coverage. The Daily Telegraph ran one piece declaring that "the Royal Family has sidelined the republicans" and that the anti-monarchists have "lost their argument for another century at least".

Was this a distortion? A failure of journalism? Or were the papers simply reflecting a real appetite, sentiment and interest? The problem is that once the news is out there it is self-fulfilling. Make something a big enough story and most will feel duty bound, particularly when it's got all the reality television draw of a celebrity birth, to show at least a flicker of interest. It is certainly true that when newspapers went big on the royal family, they increased their sales; they got more hits on their websites – the Mail gaining a record high. But it may also be true that by going all-out for the good news story, they created more interest than there already was.

On the internet and Twitter, at least some of the buzz was created by people wondering why anyone else should be all that bothered about someone having a baby. The cover of Private Eye encapsulated this best: "Woman Has Baby." Some even claimed that this coverline summed up the mood of the nation. There was, in other words, a significant appetite for irreverent aspects of this story – but it was barely recognised in the headlines.

Even the much-cited royal baby Twitter-surge figures need to be put into perspective. We learn, for instance, that the announcement of the birth caused a Twitter spike of 25,300 tweets per minute. This sounds impressive until you compare it with the 120,000 tweet-per-minute spike caused by Andy Murray's Wimbledon win. Or the 116,000 tweet-per-minute peak caused by the Spice Girls' Olympics performance. Interest doesn't mean approval, or even popularity. The true mood of a nation, how it really feels, can't be judged by clicks on a website or Twitter surges.

This is not to say that the new royal family didn't charm many people. There was, after all, one piece of rather brilliant PR staged by the couple themselves: Prince William's emergence as a modern hands-on dad. As he stood there holding his baby in his arms, he told reporters he had already changed his first nappy. His behaviour, notes Professor Vic Seidler, sociologist and author of Remembering Diana, appeared to evoke his mother. The question, says Seidler, is "whether those values and ethics of care that Diana brought to the family, the need to love and not just from a distance, have really been carried on? Or is it just stage-managed?"

To what extent the whole event of the birth was a superbly managed PR coup for the royals or just the media delivering the good news story they wanted has been much debated. Former royal spokesman Dickie Arbiter said on Radio 4's Today programme that the event was "media-led" rather than Palace-generated. It was the media, he claimed, who were asking the questions and drawing out the story. On the same show, however, celebrity PR Mark Borkowski applauded the "deftness and control" of the public relations exercise.

But one problem with getting to the bottom of the truth about our feelings regarding the royal new arrival is that there is an etiquette to talking about new babies. For the most part we don't think it's right to gripe about their existence, carbon footprint or burden to the nation. Hence, almost all official comments have had this effusive quality, including that by our First Minister, Alex Salmond, who said: "I am sure that people across Scotland will be absolutely thrilled to hear the news of the birth of a baby boy to the royal couple." Does this mean we are thrilled? I'm not feeling it myself – but without another opinion poll, we would struggle to tell.

Historian and royal commentator Roddy Martine believes that, in Scotland, "we do have an affection for the royal family" and that "most people up here are very pleased that a child has come into the world and that the dynasty is ensured". However, as last week went on, even he had the impression that the media coverage had gone "into the realms of overkill". Following the birth of Prince William, he says: "I cannot remember such a big frenzy. What really struck me about the media village this time round was the people who were there from all over the world."

These days, most people accept that news providers have some entertainment function. But to what degree? Where should the balance be struck? Is the birth of baby George really any more than another celebrity sprog story? Some people thought not. Many complained that there were plenty of other babies being born on that day, into poverty and other less fortunate circumstances. But, we all know there is a reason this baby is news and these others are not. This birth is celebrated because baby George is in the unique position of knowing his destiny. Short of an axeing of the monarchy, we know exactly how he will spend his latter years. This is what makes it news. It's also what makes it a fabulous excuse for newspapers to indulge in the reality entertainment of a celebrity birth as if it were a major world event.

And, more importantly, it is what makes it a great opportunity for republicans to point out the unfairness of it all. Surprisingly, Joan Smith believes that this is actually a good time for the anti-monarchy movement. Over the past few days, she says, several people have asked her if it was awful being a republican now. "Actually," she says, "it's the opposite. I'm being asked to do far more programmes than I'm able to do. People are saying we need a republican voice, and that's new."

So, among the babble of voices praising the monarchy for its endurance, Smith and other republicans have found airtime, too – even if it is partly to be ganged up against as token killjoys. Smith has been able to point out, on Newsnight, that in a country where we have made a public commitment to equality, this institution is an anachronism. She has been able to express her disappointment that the next three heads of state are "going to be white men" and that "for the rest of this century we will not have a woman on the throne, let alone a black person, an Asian person, a Jewish person".

The good feeling that surrounds the birth of a baby is rarely an enduring one. Babies grow up and become complex human beings. Smith believes that the kind of positive sentiment we have seen over the last week is very shallow, and she is probably right. "It can evaporate overnight."

For the royal family, the danger is that it will indeed evaporate when Charles takes over as king. "If people lose the Queen, and they have this man who is incredibly privileged and doesn't have a sense of what his public role is even constitutionally, they will feel very differently," says Smith.

Meanwhile, at this moment, even as the royal family ride the crest of a wave of (perhaps media-generated) popularity, there is a gathering backlash among people who feel that the coverage – about a duke and duchess they don't really care about – has been just too much. This sentiment is not necessarily anti-royal and it is not always republican. Rather, it is anger and irritation that these people are taking up so much time and space when there are so many other things in the world worthy of our attention.