When even a tiny outrage can end careers, it’s hard to understand why the most outrageous Royal is still on the scene, says Fleet Street Fox. Perhaps the answer lies in what Prince Andrew didn’t do
To the onlooking ranks of photographers from all over the world, it was the frostiest of Royal receptions. Prince Andrew sidling up to the future king at the end of a family funeral, making some awkward remarks and getting a terse nod and zero social capital in return.
“Not My Hands” Ands looked truly snubbed, especially after Prince William turned away and started chatting, wreathed in smiles, with his other uncle Tim Laurence, a man whose career in both the Royal Navy and the Royal Family has been far more distinguished.
To top it off, the troublesome Duke of York was left off the guest list for the glittering state dinner at Windsor Castle for Donald Trump, because court etiquette dictates no more than one wrong’un at the dinner table at a time. Even a monarch who once dreamed of being a used tampon has standards.
Andrew did still make it onto the Windsor turrets, courtesy of some activists who were then arrested for the crime of, if I’ve got this right, pointing light at stones with malice aforethought. No gold dinner plates for him, then, but peasants who point at his awful friends can still be threatened with 12 months in the clink. Not exactly social Siberia, is it?
Of course Prince Andrew has done nothing wrong. He has been convicted of no crime, made no admissions, and is definitely telling the truth because he didn’t perspire even when dashing between the Woking branch of Pizza Express and a west London nightclub.
But then Jimmy Kimmel broke no laws when he said Far Right zealots were politicising the murder of Charlie Kirk for their own ends. Phillip Schofield lied to journalists, not a judge. Gregg Wallace was merely accused of being unprofessional. And the fat lad from the Go Compare ads restricted himself to foul remarks. None of them are likely to be stood next to the king any time soon, and His Majesty would run a mile, cancer notwithstanding, if it looked like he was about to be photographed with one of them.
Yet Andrew attended the Duchess of Kent’s funeral, despite television cameras and a thousand clear reasons not to do so. Some might argue it was a family event and of course he should be present: but Prince Harry wasn’t there, and despite the fact Royals have enough cousins to fill any number of pews, the cathedral was half-empty. An absent Andrew would have been, in all senses, unremarkable.
If Andrew wasn’t a relative – if he were, for example, the UK’s ambassador to the United States – he would be about as welcome at a public event as a sudden outbreak of dysentery. If there really is something in the Royal DNA which makes them harder to get rid of than Peter Mandelson, it may be time to ask ourselves if David Icke had a point.
READ MORE: Expert lip reader reveals Prince Andrew’s comments to ‘furious’ Prince William
From his friendships to finances, the Duke of York has a rap sheet longer than a Windsor nose, but still clings to the royal coattails like a limpet with a trust fund. He arrived at the funeral in a shiny bullet-proof Land Rover, lives in a 30-room mansion, found a reported £12m to pay off a victim of sex trafficking, without admitting any liability, and publicly admits only to a small navy pension with which to do it all. The source of his funds is wilfully opaque far past the point of raising suspicion, and we’ve no idea what tax he pays on anything.
It would be just like Angela Rayner’s stamp duty scandal, if she had bought a £6m house while earning minimum wage, was born into luxury rather than elected to power, never submitted herself to an ethical investigation, didn’t resign, and was STILL living in a grace-and-favour property with 24-hour security at public expense years later. But then she was a granny from Stockport, not a prince of the Royal Blood.
That royals benefit from double standards is hardly news, but Andrew appears unique even among their ranks in having apparently been fitted with a Teflon exoskeleton at birth. Harry has not partied with the world’s most powerful paedophile, yet it took months of careful negotiation for him to have a private cuppa with his pa. Meghan daren’t set foot in the UK, and Royals with rare medical conditions are usually locked up in a country home and never mentioned again. But here’s Andrew, a royal roach who would probably scuttle out of the crater unscathed if he was hit by a meteorite. How does he do it?
Andrew lost his HRH, patronages, military titles, official duties and role as a UK trade envoy. He is about as non grata as a persona can possibly be in the 21st century, unwelcome at any village fete, charity gala or business lunch. Even a tree would get up and walk away, if he attempted to plant it. While the rest of us fret about what to say and do without causing a career-ending storm of offence, one of the very few people who has no need for a career, and who has offended just about everyone, is treated like he’s merely responsible for an ill-timed fart.
Unlike others who have been cancelled, Andrew has not had to reskill, launch a fitness brand, or pen a tell-all autobiography. And it is perhaps this latter point which explains why he is still fed a few crumbs from the royal table, and invited to stand uncomfortably close to them.
The truth is Andrew has already done more than enough to be cancelled, but a millennium of selective breeding means the Royal Family’s moral compass points only at what might cost them the Crown. That’s why actual racism is never as much of a worry to them as books about them being racists. Even in the Age of Outrage, the most outrageous prince of all will always be sheltered, in the hope that it keeps him from the one act of treason the Royals never forgive: publication.
