Prince Harry, Meghan: Being royal not all it’s cracked up to be

Illustration: Eric Lobbecke

Harry and Meghan are stepping down as senior royals, or something like that. I don’t know exactly how to describe it — my royalese is dodgy — but Wednesday’s announcement makes it seem like they’ve had enough of the whole monarchy hamster wheel, and they’re making a deliberate choice to walk away. A conscious unroyaling, you could call it, and probably nine bazillion ­people on the internet already have. Harry and Meghan say they’re going to “work to be financially independent” (every parent’s five favourite words), focus on their charity projects and spend more time on the Stateside of the pond. Brilliant. I look forward to bumping into them in line at Home Depot.

Harry and Meghan’s manoeuvre has been widely characterised as “shocking”, though what seems most shocking is its common sense. Fame is the planet’s most coveted narcotic, even when the fame is ephemeral. Children grow up today wanting not to walk on the moon but to get Tik-Tok influencer discounts at mid-range beach hotels. And here are two of the most famous people on the planet, who now have a child, turning their backs on the deal. It’s a snub of modern culture’s cartoonish obsession with celebrity, and you know what? It sounds healthy. Harry and ­Meghan are wise. (Yes: They’ll still be famous. And I reserve the right to revoke this praise if, in six months, they show up with “Harry and Meghan Love the New Jersey Suburbs” on Bravo.)

I’ve never been a royal, other than the time I had my seventh birthday at Burger King — sorry if you weren’t invited — but I bet it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. The public sees the castles and weddings and the good seats at Wimbledon, but I assume the experience gets old fast. There’s the crushing media and public scrutiny, which is obviously harrowing and has touched both Harry and Meghan personally. There are issues of trust — who to let into your life, without fear they’ll dob you in to the tabloids.

Plus, you have to show up to so much stuff. I feel that’s like 90 per cent of a royal job: showing up to stuff and acting really super-duper interested.

I don’t know about you, but I am a terrible person, and I don’t want to show up to anything. My daughter is turning five in a week, and she’s having a combination Frozen/Disney Princess costume party, and right now I’m on the books as a maybe. Oh, come on. She’ll be surrounded by Elsas and Cinderellas. She could not possibly care less.

That said, I detect from Harry and Meghan’s news that there is potentially an opening at Buckingham Palace. Harry’s brother and sister-in-law cannot be expected to do it all. I suspect William and Kate were consulted in all of this and said all the proper things. They told Harry and Meghan “good for you, I’m proud of you”, but what they were really thinking is “yikes, now we have to go to everything”. I bet William’s doing the maths in his head: Does this mean I have to sit through the Wimbledon quarters, semis and the finals? You’re kidding me.

I know it sounds fun, but those Wimbledon matches really can take forever, and it’s not like a royal can wear a football team tank-top to Centre Court.

What I am trying to say is that I would do some of this. Despite all my previous protesting about showing up, I would be happy to be appointed a royal, even temporarily. Please tell the Queen. I’m not saying I’m a compelling candidate, or even a mediocre one, but I’ll do. I can sit somewhere for at least 30 minutes. And I like Wimbledon. All I ask is for a castle with airconditioning — and two dragons. They still use dragons, yes? I haven’t asked my wife yet, but I think she will be OK with the idea. I think my daughter will be completely on board. I bet she will ask to move her birthday party to the palace. I bet she’ll get horses. Then I’ll definitely go.

The Wall Street Journal