If the 1990s was the last golden age of cinema, then one of the films with the most lasting appeal, at least based on what my children and their friends talk about, seems to be The Truman Show.
The film, about the cruel narcissism of modern media, obviously resonates with a generation immersed in narcissistic social media, and who find themselves empathising with the protagonist of this solipsistic tale. My son is almost the exact same age as Prince George, born only a week apart, and I sometimes wonder if the poor boy has ever watched the film, or whether he has heard his uncle compare their lives to that of the lead character.
Prince Harry’s travails are one reason why I’ve become something of a doomer about the monarchy these past five years, which is odd because I’m usually so optimistic about the future. The Firm has enjoyed strong public support since it went through a big popularity surge in the late 1990s, but it has since run into serious trouble. There is the fracturing of relations with the Duke of Sussex following his marriage to Meghan Markle, and the very Hanoverian behaviour of Prince Andrew, but there is something deeper too.
I still believe that monarchies have huge benefits, although those are felt far less in wealthy ageing democracies. But I’ve found myself far more drawn to the case for a republic, and the overwhelmingly strongest argument is that constitutional monarchies are just incredibly cruel. Prince Harry was exactly right; it is The Truman Show.
I’ve been thinking about this the last couple of weeks, following the mysterious disappearance of the Princess of Wales and the subsequent, clearly photoshopped, images posted on social media to reassure us that everything was well - which instead provoked a million and one conspiracy theories, such as that Kate was dead or in a coma, or had even fallen victim to the vaccine (of course).
The Royal Family have always invited conspiracies – Prince Philip was a particular fantasy of people suffering from persecution complexes – but this still feels saddening on a personal level. Who would trade places with Kate Middleton, or any member of that family, forced to carry the enormous burden of celebrity, and to be an unceasing source of mockery.
The modern Royal Family was in essence the creation of George V, who was not notably bright but had a keen sense of survival. While monarchs were toppled in Austria, Germany, the Ottoman Empire and mostly cruelly in Russia, the King of England understood that royals in the machine age had to be recast both as figures of national unity and as celebrities. He changed their name, he began the tradition of Christmas broadcasts, and he cultivated an almost bourgeois family image that would make the clan more relatable to their subjects.
It worked, but then they didn’t have the pressure that later royals would endure, the unrelenting gaze of an unmuzzled media prying on private lives that could not live up to an exacting standard of post-Victorian sexual morality in a permissive age. George V was uxorious, as was his son George VI, but Bertie’s brothers had quite scandalous private lives that would have seen them put through the meat grinder today.
The relentless pressure began to take its toll in the 1980s, when the royals became the subject of unceasing intrusion and derision which, in retrospect, permanently damaged their aura. Mocking the royals is a long British tradition, and George III is said to have looked kindly on lampoons as a safety valve for the population, but this reached a new intensity in an age when traditional taboos about deference were crumbling (only to be replaced by new ones).
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Wrong Side of History to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.