Sadly, Harry and Meghan have done something that has genuinely changed how a large part of the public sees the Royal Family. They turned the monarchy into a reality show. Everything becomes personal. Who spoke to whom. Who was invited. Who wasn’t. Who got the bigger room. Who stood where. Who was “favoured.” Who supposedly said what behind closed doors. And once you look at the Royal Family through that lens, you stop seeing the monarchy as an institution and start judging it like a dysfunctional celebrity household. That is a category error. The Royal Family is a family. The monarchy is an institution. But there is another distinction people seem to have lost along the way: being a working royal is a life of service, not a personal promotion exercise. The purpose is not to build an individual celebrity brand, control the narrative around yourself or turn every public appearance into an opportunity for personal recognition. The individual is serving something bigger than themselves. That doesn’t mean royals don’t have personalities, interests or personal causes. Of course they do. But the role comes with an expectation that public duty takes precedence over personal promotion. And this is where Harry and Meghan blurred the lines for many people. They presented royal life increasingly through the language of personal identity, personal grievance, personal freedom and personal narrative. Suddenly, questions about the institution became questions about whether an individual was getting enough recognition, access, attention or support. But that isn’t really how the institution is designed to work. The monarchy has constitutional responsibilities, official duties, state occasions, diplomatic representation, military links, patronages and an enormous amount of public service that never becomes a storyline. The people within it obviously have personal relationships, disagreements, grievances and complicated family history. Of course they do. They are human. But their private relationships are not the purpose of the Crown, and their individual profiles are not the purpose of royal service. This is where so much of the criticism becomes confused. Palace silence is interpreted as guilt. Protocol is interpreted as personal spite. Different roles are interpreted as favouritism. Someone who leaves royal duty is then treated as though the institution still owes them the same access, platform and public defence. But none of that necessarily follows. The monarchy cannot function like a reality show where every family disagreement is explained to the public and every accusation gets a response. It also cannot function like a celebrity agency, where every working member is expected to build their own brand and negotiate their own level of visibility. It is a life of service. Harry and Meghan chose to make their version of the family story part of their public narrative. That was their choice. But the rest of the institution is under no obligation to participate in that narrative or turn every family dispute into public entertainment. People can dislike the Palace’s reserve. They can criticise individual royals. They can question the monarchy itself. But judging the institution through the lens of celebrity culture and family drama means fundamentally misunderstanding what it is. The Royal Family is a family. The monarchy is an institution. And royal service is about serving the Crown and the public, not promoting yourself. Confusing those things is where a lot of the nonsense starts.

This footage is actually quite sad. William is surrounded by people, getting the attention and warmth that came so naturally to him. Harry is standing there watching it, and his expression says plenty. And this wasn’t an isolated adult grievance. Harry grew up in William’s shadow. William was the heir, the future King, the one people naturally looked toward. Even their mother’s enormous popularity was something William seemed to inherit effortlessly. Harry, meanwhile, was always the spare. That distinction may have shaped far more than their respective positions in the Royal Family. It created a lifelong comparison between two brothers who were never going to occupy the same place. What is striking is how much of Harry’s adult behaviour seems to revolve around that comparison. William gets the attention. William gets the future. William gets the institution. William gets Catherine. William gets the life Harry walked away from and then spent years talking about. And Harry’s failure to establish an identity of his own only seems to make the comparison worse. And that desperation to compete has its own consequences. He isn’t naturally gifted, particularly smart or especially funny, yet he carries himself with an extraordinary sense of entitlement, very little self-awareness and a confidence that often seems completely disconnected from what he actually brings to the table. That combination makes the comparison even more painful to watch. He had every opportunity to pave his own path. He had the name, the platform, the resources, the connections and enormous opportunities that most people could only dream of. He could have built something entirely his own. Instead, he keeps making William part of the equation. People can use Harry for their own agenda, exploit his resentment and happily stand beside him while it serves them, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they respect him. The more he tries to prove himself against William, the more he seems to diminish himself. Then Meghan Markle enters the picture and heightens the entire dynamic by another hundred percent. What could have been a man finding his own identity outside his brother’s shadow has instead become a seemingly endless competition with a life he voluntarily walked away from. What an unfortunate, miserable and ultimately pathetic life Harry has created for himself.