Prince Harry and Meghan Markle recently attended a Project Camp LA event, appearing cheerful and eager to pose for photos while supposedly supporting children affected by disasters.
On the surface, this seems like a noble cause, but the situation becomes more perplexing upon closer inspection. These are the same individuals who have consistently emphasized their desire for privacy and claimed they moved to Montecito to provide their children with a normal life. Yet here they are at a children's event—without their own children. It’s akin to dining at a family restaurant while leaving your family at home.
What adds to the irony is the grand statement they issued through their Archewell Foundation, highlighting how children need more than just shelter; they need stability and a safe space to play. The contradiction is almost comical—akin to the plot of one of Meghan’s Hallmark films. They speak about creating a secure and supportive environment for children, yet their own remain conspicuously absent. In all my years covering the royal family, I have never witnessed anything quite like this. Perhaps they should start by ensuring their own children experience the same stability they advocate for others.
There are more clear and verifiable photos of the Loch Ness Monster than of Archie and Lilibet. The few images available are either grainy, taken at odd angles, or edited so heavily they resemble an influencer’s overly filtered social media post. The secrecy surrounding their children has been a pattern since Archie’s birth, which was shrouded in confusion, shifting narratives, and questionable timing. When Lilibet arrived, the same secrecy continued, making it difficult to believe that these children exist in any meaningful public sense. They are referenced in statements but are more hidden than the Crown Jewels.
The contrast with Prince William and Catherine could not be starker. The Prince and Princess of Wales manage to balance privacy and public duty with grace and transparency. Prince George, Princess Charlotte, and Prince Louis are seen at appropriate events, gradually learning about their future roles and engaging with the public in an authentic manner. In contrast, Archie and Lilibet remain ghost-like figures—spoken of but never seen in settings where their presence would be logical. This Project Camp LA event was the perfect opportunity for them to interact with other children, support a charitable cause, and learn about community service—values Harry and Meghan claim to prioritize. Yet instead of including their own children, the couple simply posed with other people’s kids.
If they were just private citizens, this wouldn't be an issue. But they aren’t. They still leverage their royal connections when convenient, use their titles to gain access and influence, and continue positioning themselves as global humanitarians. They cannot have it both ways. Either they are private individuals who wish to be left alone, or they are public figures who accept the responsibilities that come with that status.
The timing of their appearance is also highly suspect. It coincides with Catherine’s recovery from surgery and ongoing health concerns within the royal family. Just as the monarchy faces serious challenges, Harry and Meghan emerge with yet another headline-grabbing stunt. The pattern is so predictable that it borders on laughable—except it is too calculated to be amusing. Their actions resemble a masterclass in manipulation: carefully staged photos, vague references to their children, public appearances at children’s events without their own kids, and then an outcry over privacy whenever inconsistencies are pointed out. It’s reminiscent of a magician constantly telling the audience not to watch their hands.
Looking beyond this particular incident, the issue at hand is not just about two ex-royals seeking attention or their mysteriously absent children. It is about authenticity. It is about practicing what one preaches. If someone chooses to be a public figure, particularly one who claims to champion humanitarian causes, their actions must align with their words. William and Catherine understand this balance. They know when to share glimpses of their children and when to shield them from excessive public exposure. They do not exploit their children as PR tools or use them to score sympathy points. They are raising future leaders with dignity and responsibility.
Meanwhile, in Montecito, the situation is bizarre. Harry and Meghan, who claim to crave privacy, constantly court media attention while keeping their children hidden as if they were in witness protection. The contradictions are glaring, the narratives inconsistent, and the entire spectacle increasingly difficult to take seriously. As someone who has followed the royal family for years, I have witnessed plenty of strange developments—but this is something else entirely. The manufactured image, the ever-changing stories, and the glaring hypocrisy are impossible to ignore.
