Do you want to hear my theory about Kate? I hope you answered “no”. Please tell me you answered “no”! Because I don’t have a theory. It’s none of my damn business. That’s my theory.

But even though I don’t have a theory about what is happening with Kate, I do have a theory about all the theories, which has a lot to do with the kind of society we’ve become. And I don’t mean to now talk about social media because everybody is pointing a finger at social media. Social media is a convenient scapegoat at moments like this. It would be refreshing if somebody instead reminded people of all the good that social media does, especially given the rest of our society is falling apart. (Here in the North West, our transport infrastructure is so utterly broken that the only human contact I sometimes get is through social media. If the trains worked as well as the much-maligned Twitter/X, I might not be stuck at home tonight when I should be seeing the great Simon Munnery perform in Liverpool… Sigh.) So, no: this doesn’t have a great deal to do with social media but a whole deal to do with the culmination of an extremely old story.

It began back in 1953 when Prince Philip moved to have the investiture ceremony broadcast live on TV. Winston Churchill was appalled at the idea. “It would be unfitting that the whole ceremony […] should be presented as if it were a theatrical performance,” he said. 

Even Philip would have probably conceded, many years later, that Churchill had been right. Something ancient, rooted in mythic and religious tropes, was lost when ceremonies started to be organised for the TV folk. Tweaks were made and continued to be made to make room for cameras. New traditions were shaped from old traditions, and the royal family was transformed into a very modern phenomenon, a combination of the quasi-religious and high celebrity, yet not quite fitting either description.

What began as an attempt to humanise the royal family (they were human!) became something much less healthy. There were many bad judgements along the way. There was a It’s a Royal Knockout that did more than the Cromwell family to undermine the mystery of royalty. There was the divorce and death of the late Princess of Wales, which should have prompted more self-inspection in both the press and the people than it did. A public who claimed to love the late Princess might have wondered if love had contributed to her death, propelling the sale of newspapers, the demands for photos and gossip, and ultimately, putting a price on her head, encouraging the paparazzi who chased her on that fateful night.

The late Queen, meanwhile, managed to transcend everything going on around her until her final years when even she seemed to admit it was all over. Starting with her acting opposite Daniel Craig and then Paddington Bear, the Queen appeared noticeably different, as if she realised that the pretence wasn’t worth the effort. At times it seemed like the entire illusion of monarchy was beginning to fade even to her.

The family appear to have experienced this realisation in different ways. Prince Harry has done so in a way that can appear either the healthiest or the most self-destructive. He wisely sought a life away from the royal family but foolishly went to Hollywood, as if he thought he could continue to be “special” without the thing that notionally made him special. Without a talent of his own, he’s merely Harry and nobody is quite sure what that is. He just needs a lot of money to continue being whatever that is. The duty of the taxpayer should be to give him a reasonable life given the unfair expectations we’d placed on him. It’s not to fund his life among the stars.

Prince William, meanwhile, seems the most conflicted. Like Harry, he saw what happened to his mother and has attempted to shield his family from press intrusion. Yet, at the same time, he and they appear bound to the old bargain, by which they become our family (if, indeed, you believe in these things). 

The royal family isn’t so much an institution as a group of people being held hostage by a nation that seeks to alleviate the guilt of this enforced captivity by showering wealth and privilege on them. And for that, we have demanded access to their every detail. Their children are our children. Their wives and husbands and our wives and husbands. Their family squabbles are our family squabbles. Their losses are our losses, their victories our victories. That’s how it works. It’s a miserable form of existence for everyone. 

It’s also an unfair expectation and it’s unclear how we now untangle the mess we’ve created. There are a lot of people in the UK who are emotionally invested (one might even say overinvested) in people they hardly know. These are the fans who leave gifts at memorials, and hand over toys, bouquets and even expensive gifts whenever they meet royals. None of that can be healthy. Members of the underclass spending what little money they have on people who have every material luxury is a poor reflection on both the family and the country. I’m sure the royals would be the first to admit that. 

Isn’t it time we did something to alter this? And shouldn’t this new reticence around Kate be encouraged? None of us have a right to know what’s happening with Kate or William or their children.

So, say it quietly: perhaps this is how we begin to wean ourselves off this manifestation of royalty, who look increasingly anachronistic in a secular nation. If the royal family have any sense, they’ll be the first to accept a change: scale it back before some government comes in who would seek to replace them entirely. 

I’m not sure what a reformed monarchy would look like. Myself, I quite like the notion of monarchy but have never understood why it must be human. Let’s strip out the celebrity. I would much rather imbue some ancient tree with symbolic meaning. Let’s plant a new sapling in Sycamore Gap and gather there each year to pluck a leaf which is transported to London where we celebrate it. Let’s have the Royal Order of the Bark where we pin bits of old deadwood to our lapels. Let some prime minister sign all royal warrants with a twig plucked from the Monarch Tree.

Myths are made by humans so let’s make our own. They’ll look as authentic as any in another 100 years and people will assume we’ve been doing them for millennia, just like we now think most of our traditions date back centuries when they’re often not much older than one or two generations.

And if we must imbue a family with special significance, we should do it in a humane way that frees them to live ordinary lives. If the next heir doesn’t want to be the next heir and wants instead to go work in systems design or grinding coffee beans, then they should be allowed to do just that.

One thing we should be proud of in this country – and it’s a sadly rare sentiment – is that we look after each other and that should also include those we have elevated to these ceremonial positions. They are humans before they are symbols. They are private citizens deserving the respect of all private citizens. 

Let’s just, you know, grow up. (And think seriously about the tree idea. I think it’s a winner.)

@DavidWaywell

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