When they first announced their decision to step back from royal duties, they framed it as a desire for privacy.
The irony is almost too much to bear because everything they've done since has been the exact opposite. Instead of retreating into a private life, they've been on a relentless media tour, giving interviews, signing lucrative deals, and making sure to capitalize on their royal connections at every turn. It's been a nonstop spectacle, a carefully orchestrated campaign of royal name-dropping for profit.
After all their antics—after all their attempts to cash in on their ties to the monarchy while simultaneously criticizing the institution that granted them those very privileges—it appears that the patience of the British public and their representatives has finally worn thin. What makes this particularly fascinating is how they’ve continued to play fast and loose with their titles, even after being explicitly told not to use their HRH styles. They’ve found a clever loophole: while they don’t technically use them, they make sure everyone knows they still have them. It’s like watching a teenager who’s been grounded but keeps bending the rules without technically breaking them.
And let’s not forget how they’ve been leveraging these titles in every business venture. Every Netflix deal, every book, every high-profile speaking engagement—they’re always billed as the Duke and Duchess of Sussex. It’s like those people who peaked in high school and can’t stop reliving their glory days, except in this case, they’re clinging to royal status while claiming to seek independence from the very institution those titles represent. The sheer audacity is astounding. They wanted to have it both ways—to criticize the monarchy while profiting from their association with it, to demand privacy while chasing the spotlight, to claim independence while trading on their royal status. But it seems that particular game may finally be reaching its conclusion.
The hypocrisy of it all is what really stands out. They spoke of financial independence, yet every single endeavor they’ve pursued has leaned heavily on their royal ties. It’s reminiscent of those people who insist they’re self-made while conveniently ignoring the advantages handed to them. And then there’s King Charles—by all accounts, he’s tried to handle this mess with grace and dignity. Reports suggest he was hesitant to strip them of their titles, not wanting to humiliate them. But sometimes, tough love is necessary. Sometimes, enough is enough.
Initially, the palace signaled that removing their Duke and Duchess titles wasn’t on the table, but it seems public sentiment is shifting. The monarchy exists to serve the people, not the other way around, and when representatives of the British public start taking formal action, it’s no small matter. Parliamentary petitions aren’t just meaningless online polls—they carry weight. They signal that elected officials are being urged to act, and when Parliament gets involved, things tend to escalate quickly.
What makes this even more fascinating is the timing. While the Princess of Wales recovers and the nation rallies around her, certain individuals seem incapable of stepping back from their publicity circus. It’s as if they’re completely oblivious to the public mood, and that miscalculation has likely contributed to the growing backlash against them.
At its core, the message is clear: if they want to be private citizens, they should live as private citizens. If they want to be working royals, they should embrace the responsibilities that come with that role. But they can’t have it both ways. It’s the most reasonable stance imaginable. When you leave a job, you don’t get to keep using the company credit card. You don’t retain the executive title while working elsewhere. And yet, that’s exactly what they’ve been trying to do—until now. The patience of the public has run out.
There’s also something deeply satisfying about the way karma works. While they’ve been busy playing their games, the working royals—William, Catherine, Charles, and Camilla—have simply carried on with their duties, demonstrating what true service and dignity look like. It’s ironic, really. When they left, they promised to modernize the monarchy, to redefine what it meant to be royal. Instead, all they’ve done is prove why the traditional model—one built on duty, service, and restraint—works so well.
This isn’t about revenge or punishment. It’s about maintaining the dignity and integrity of an institution that has served Britain for centuries. Royal titles aren’t just decorative labels to be slapped onto Netflix deals or book promotions. They carry weight, responsibility, and expectations. And speaking of expectations, they’ve managed to disappoint nearly all of them. When they first stepped back, some people defended them, hopeful that they might use their platform for meaningful change. Years later, what do we have? A string of grievances, lackluster projects, and an endless narrative of self-pity.
It’s especially striking when you compare them to other royals who have stepped back. There are those who have gracefully built their own lives and careers without exploiting their royal status. Take Princess Anne’s children, for example—they’ve done exactly what these two claimed to want, but without the drama. That’s dignity. That’s class.
Every time they pull another publicity stunt, every time they use their titles for personal gain, it cheapens those titles for everyone else. What should be a mark of service and honor is being turned into a marketing gimmick. And that’s the real tragedy here. They had an opportunity to do something truly impactful, to use their position for good. Instead, they’ve wasted it on a cycle of complaints, unfinished projects, and endless attempts to monetize their royal connections.
What’s most frustrating is how they’ve tried to play both sides. They want to be seen as victims of the institution while reaping its benefits. They claim independence but cling to their titles. They demand privacy but seek attention when it suits them. But now, it looks like that charade may be coming to an end. This moment is bigger than just them—it’s about setting a precedent. It’s about reaffirming that royal titles come with obligations, not just perks.
And here’s the final irony: while the working royals continue to serve with dignity and grace, these two have only made the case for why the monarchy must uphold its traditions. The contrast could not be clearer.
