The monarchy loves a sermon about service. Honour this, duty that, stiff upper lip until the end of time.
But when the tabloids are caught hacking phones, smearing grieving families, or twisting tragedies into cheap headlines, where’s the royal outrage? Nowhere. The institution has learned to play nice with Fleet Street, feeding them tidbits in exchange for protection. Prince William, the heir, has perfected the art of appeasement. Prince Harry, the spare, has decided he’s had enough of the pantomime. He’s back in London, suing Associated Newspapers, the publisher of the Daily Mail, for allegedly planting listening devices, bribing officials, and hacking phones. The Mail calls the claims “preposterous.” Which is rich coming from an outfit that has Sarah Vine, Jan Moir and Richard “Maureen” Eden as columnists.
This isn’t Harry’s first rodeo. He’s already won against the Mirror and settled with The Sun (after they finally admitted fault). He knows the tabloids will retaliate, gleefully reporting every stumble as proof he’s unhinged. And probably going after his wife a bit more, just to show him that they can. But courage isn’t about being bulletproof. It’s about standing up even when you know the mob is waiting to laugh at your fall. And Harry’s mob is particularly vicious.
Let’s remind ourselves of a couple of the press’s greatest hits. Hillsborough, where The Sun smeared Liverpool fans as drunken hooligans while families were still burying their dead. Milly Dowler, whose voicemail was hacked by the News of the World while her parents clung to hope she was alive. These weren’t just “mistakes.” They were deliberate acts of cruelty, dressed up as journalism. And yet the monarchy, with all its power and privilege, and with all its talk of honour, never lifted a finger to challenge the system. Honour, it seems, is reserved for ribbon‑cutting ceremonies, balcony waves and Prince Andrew needing to spend time with Jeffrey Epstein in person.
Harry’s lawsuits are inconvenient because they expose the cosy pact between crown and press. The monarchy relies on tabloids to keep its image shiny, so it tolerates their abuses. Harry refuses to play along, and for that he’s branded a traitor. But in reality, he’s the only one acting with anything resembling duty. Duty to truth, duty to accountability, duty to the ordinary people who’ve been shafted by the tabloids for decades.
The royal family can keep wanging on about honour. Harry’s the one who actually has some. He’s dragged the tabloids into the dock, forcing them to answer for their behaviour. And if that makes him unpopular with the palace, so be it. Better to be unpopular and principled than popular and complicit.
The monarchy may prefer to keep its head down, but Harry’s shown that honour isn’t about silence. It’s about telling the tabloids to sod off, even if they’ve got half the country convinced you’re the villain.