The World’s First Computer Virus: How a Bored Teenager Ruined Floppy Disks Forever

When Teenagers Attack: The Story of the First Computer Virus

It was 1982. Ronald Reagan was president, people were still recovering from disco, and if you wanted to share data, you didn’t “airdrop” it—you handed someone a floppy disk. Computers were mysterious, clunky, and mostly harmless. Then along came Rich Skrenta, a 15-year-old prankster from Pittsburgh, who decided to ruin that peace of mind.

Rich wasn’t some evil genius bent on global domination. He was just a bored teenager with a computer and far too much time on his hands. What did he create? Elk Cloner, the world’s first computer virus, an invention that would eventually snowball into one of the most annoying aspects of modern life. Thanks, Rich. Really.

The Prank to End All Pranks

Rich Skrenta was that guy. You know, the one who’d hand you a pen and laugh when it exploded ink all over your hand. Except instead of pens, he used floppy disks, and instead of ink, he infected your computer with code.

By the time Skrenta’s friends stopped trusting him with their disks, he decided to up his game. If people wouldn’t willingly let him mess with their computers, he’d automate the process. Cue the creation of Elk Cloner, a virus that spread from floppy disk to floppy disk like a cold in kindergarten.

Teenage Rich Skrenta: The mischievous mastermind behind the world’s first computer virus

Here’s how it worked: after a certain number of uses, the infected computer would display this poem:

vbnet

Copy code

Elk Cloner: The program with a personality It will get on all your disks It will infiltrate your chips Yes, it’s Cloner! It will stick to you like glue It will modify RAM too Send in the Cloner!

If you’re thinking, That’s it?, congratulations, you’re not wrong. Compared to today’s ransomware and malware, Elk Cloner was about as threatening as a slap with a wet noodle. But in 1982, this was terrifyingly new. A program that could spread itself? The horror!

Mass Annoyance

For the most part, Elk Cloner didn’t damage computers—it just irritated their users. Imagine settling in for a nice game of Oregon Trail, only for your screen to flash that poem instead of dysentery warnings. That’s the level of annoyance Skrenta unleashed on his unsuspecting friends.

Reactions ranged from “What the heck, Rich?!” to “How did you even do this?” Skrenta, ever the humble teenager, simply shrugged and said something like, “It wasn’t that hard.” His friends probably would’ve slapped him, but they were too busy rebooting their computers.

The Accidental Legacy

The infamous Elk Cloner poem: The first computer virus strikes with a rhyming prank

What Skrenta didn’t realize at the time was that he had created the world’s first computer virus. Elk Cloner was the patient zero of malicious software. Sure, it was more prank than problem, but it introduced the concept that computers—those trustworthy, magical boxes—could turn against us.

And turn they did. Fast-forward to today, and computer viruses are a multi-billion-dollar headache. From Trojans to worms, Skrenta’s little teenage stunt planted the seed for an entire industry of cybercrime. Way to go, Rich.

Rich Skrenta: The Man, the Myth, the Menace

Ironically, Skrenta didn’t grow up to become a nefarious hacker. Instead, he became a tech entrepreneur, co-founding the search engine Blekko and other respectable ventures. But no matter how many accolades he earns, his teenage shenanigan will forever follow him. It’s like being the guy who invented glitter—sure, you did something innovative, but people will hate you for it.

The (Snarky) Moral of the Story

The tale of Elk Cloner teaches us an important lesson: never trust a teenager with a computer, especially one who grins like he’s up to something. More broadly, it reminds us that even the smallest acts of mischief can spiral into global phenomena. So, the next time you’re cursing your antivirus software for slowing down your laptop, take a moment to reflect. If a bored 15-year-old could start this mess in 1982, imagine what a motivated one could do today.

References

Lande, D. P. (1997). Cybercrimes of the past: Early exploits and pranks in the digital world. New York: TechPress.

What do you think? Thinking outside the box or just a crazy eccentric dude who sold Britain a bill of goods?
Let us know in the comments.