The British press has crossed a line.
First they “doorstepped” poor Prince Edward, asking him about Epstein’s victims, and now they’ve ambushed Queen Camilla with the same outrageous trick: a question she hadn’t agreed to be asked. Imagine the cruelty of journalists expecting answers from public figures whose family is entangled in one of the most notorious scandals of our time. Don’t they know the rules? Royals only answer questions they’ve rehearsed, about how brilliant they are at championing the environment (despite the cars and the choppers and the private jets), or whether Kate can button up her own coat-dress.
The palace and the press are supposed to be in this together. The Firm provides the photo‑ops, the press provides the deference, and everyone gets paid. But if reporters start demanding accountability, the whole cosy arrangement collapses.
What if the public begins to notice that the monarchy is enjoying 45% pay rises while refusing to say a single word about Epstein, Andrew, or the victims? What if silence stops being sold as influence and starts being recognised as cowardice and contempt?
What kind of country are we becoming? Royals being treated like public figures, expected to answer for their family’s scandals. Next thing you know, they’ll be asked about their taxpayer funding, their lobbying, or their secret letters to ministers. Where will it end? If the press keeps this up, the Mountbatten‑Windsors might actually have to do the unthinkable: take responsibility.
At least half the country (the gammons, at least) are agreed: doorstepping royals with tricky questions is an act of treason against the unwritten pact of British public life. Royals pose, tabloids gush, and the money flows. If journalists start doing their jobs, the Firm may not keep getting its pay rises. And then what? Accountability? Transparency? Well, it’s just not cricket, is it? Better to stick with the old routine: silence, spin, and a photo of Camilla smiling at a library.
