Prince William should take care in ditching the ‘never complain, never explain’ royal mantra

There are better ways the royals can make their points, argues Sean O’Grady

The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge (Getty)

Prince William reportedly wants to have the freedom to speak out when he wishes, to defend his behaviour and criticise his critics, or at least try to put them right. Born of frustration about some of the misunderstandings and ill-willed coverage of the Cambridges’ goodwill visit to the Caribbean, he is said to want to ditch the doctrine of “never complain, never explain”. His informal manifesto for his reign, arguably a little premature, also envisages sacking half of the support staff and making the monarchy more “reactionary and agile” (though he hopefully meant “reactive and agile”).

You can understand his annoyance. He claims that he is relaxed about the prospect of more independent states moving towards republican constitutions and ending the ceremonial link with the British monarch as their head of state – though the fact that he was visiting three territories that are openly considering the move suggests it was more defensive than neutral in approach. Aides, allies and friends also point out that the now infamous image of them greeting the kids from behind a steel fence came about because the children were so pleased to greet them, and a similar image featuring Raheem Sterling raised no hackles.

The photo opportunity with the open Jamaican Defence Force Land Rover was supposed to a charming nod to the past, a sort of retro-monarchism, but went down badly. “Tone deaf” was the consensus, which was doubly hurtful to the sensitive prince.

In any case, it seems that William and Kate are becoming as irritated and impatient with the media as Harry and Meghan were, though obviously not to the point of voluntary exile. For those who assumed that William was the more timid, conventional, and pliant of the two brothers, though, the reports suggest that he’s as at least as single-minded as his father and grandmother.

It will end in tears, though. It’s long been said of the royal family that “they can’t answer back”, which tends to attract sympathy and put them beyond attack, suggesting that it is inherently unfair in their case. Any attempt to respond to the media or, even more dangerous, political criticism, risks dragging the institution into controversy. People would naturally begin to take sides and the arguments would turn into another culture war or an actual dividing line between political parties. Regarding the particular example of Jamaica, for example, having William interviewed about the “optics” and politics of the trip would provoke renewed arguments about: the monarchy’s and Britain’s past role in the slave trade; reparations and apologies; racism in British society as witnessed in the Stephen Lawrence, Windrush and Grenfell scandals; plus the allegations about racism in the royal family that Meghan Markle levelled in the Oprah Winfrey interview. Some of that did start to rumble around as the tour progressed, but the rows would be far more higher profile if the Cambridges themselves waded in.

Past attempts to tame the press have failed miserably, and quite rightly in many cases. The most spectacular was Prince Andrew’s attempt to complain and explain about the way his friendship with Jeffrey Epstein had been portrayed. He thought he’d clear things up for good, but it didn’t quite go according to plan.

More prosaically, in December 1981, when the Queen herself gathered together newspaper editors to “complain” about intrusion into the marriage between Charles and Diana, the editor of The Sun, Kelvin McKenzie was said to be the only one who did not attend. Later on, the Palace complained to the then Press Complaints Commission when the newspapers revealed things were far from “carefree” between the Waleses. When Diana, with Martin Bashir, and Charles, with Jonathan Dimbleby, tried to explain and complain on TV in 1994 and 1995 the reaction was intense.

Not every member of the royal family possesses the communication skills of, say, David Attenborough or the presentational guile of a Tony Blair. One shudders to imagine the results if Princess Margaret, who loved partying as much as protocol, had ever been allowed to give an interview. As it was, the Palace wisely kept schtum when the Labour MP Willie Hamilton called her “this expensive kept woman" when her annual salary of £82,000 was made public (worth far more now obviously). Even her best friends wouldn’t argue the Queen’s sister was value for money for the taxpayer.

There are better ways the royals can make their points. The odd oblique remark, as when the Queen mentioned to a well-wisher at church that she hoped the Scottish people would think carefully about their vote in the referendum on independence in 2014. Stray rumours can usefully emerge from the Palace, and there is nothing to stop courtiers enabling journalists.

It is, in other words, already open to the Palace to complain and explain, in off-the record and on-the record ways, and there is no need for the Duke of Cambridge to put himself “out there”. Back in 1936, Edward VIII was the closest to wanting to go public about his wish to marry the woman he loved, but would have divided public opinion and created a “King’s Party” in the process (led by the romantic and chivalrous Winston Churchill) and it probably would have broken the institution. He was only able to speak publicly after his abdication, on the advice of his prime minister.

Boris Johnson might spare a few moments to advise William and Kate that they should stay out of public debate as far as possible and adapt to the changing public mood, in the UK, Jamaica or anywhere else, as much as possible. It is the secret of their survival.