Why we love the Royals — at a distance
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A recent issue of Private Eye led with a story about Helena Kennedy QC (as she then was), who called for the end of the monarchy in 1994, and Baroness Kennedy KC (as she is now) playing an active part of the Coronation ceremony.
They think they are highlighting hypocrisy – and they might be – but they are also raising what I like to call the Buckingham Palace effect.
Emily Maitlis writes in The Times about her infamous interview with Prince Andrew. Having heard a piece of BBC lore that “after a royal interview someone always gets sacked”, she didn’t think it would be the prince himself.
There are – in my opinion – two forces at play here: obsequiousness and the illusion of being close to power.
I used to provide content for live events. I have worked in the Palace a few times. I’m not what you’d call a royalist, although I’m not at all a republican. I’m OK with things as they are – I see no reason for change. Having posted my colours to this small mast, here is my experience.
My reason for being in the Palace was always an event for one of the charities with a royal patron. In each case I would be coordinating the efforts of a number of suppliers, each of whom would be asked for a quotation for the equipment and services they were to provide. The first reaction was always that everything would be supplied for free. I would then explain that this was a well-funded event with generous sponsors and the sub-contractor should bill me at a commercial rate. If they then wished to make a donation to the charity, that was their choice. Inevitably I would be quoted a very reasonable cost and then supplied with far too much equipment – just in case. Storage is not plentiful in the Palace.
One time I was in the Throne Room and asked a page if he could tell me where to find the nearest toilet. He kindly showed me where it was. When I emerged, the same page was waiting outside the toilet to escort me back to my place of work. Clearly, he didn’t want me wandering around on my own.
On another occasion we were invited to the drinks reception after an event; my colleague was very excited to be there. When I remarked that the devils-on-horseback canapés were very tasty, she refused to try one in case she spilt some juice on her clothes and then had to speak to a member of the Royal Family. We could see the well-oiled machine ensuring that only the charity’s more generous benefactors got anywhere near a (well-briefed) member of the Royal Family.
I thought about this star power around the Royal Family when watching the enjoyable fiction The Crown. It seemed – in that version at least – that in times of perceived crisis eventually someone would say “let’s do a television interview” and it mostly goes wrong.
If you were met with fawning gratitude whenever you met a member of the public, you might be forgiven for thinking that “all they had to do was hear your side” for all to be OK. Watching a bloke squirm about his sexual indiscretions on your television is not the same as being overawed by the gilt and majesty of Buckingham Palace.
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