It would be so much more satisfying to sit here contemplating Meghan’s sartorial choices for the English countryside than listening to Tom Sykes go on and on about whether Prince Harry is a public figure.
I would rather be thinking about Meghan in her Cotswolds kitchen, chopping celery with surgical precision while Harry helps Archie with his maths homework at the table. I can see her outfit in my mind’s eye: a soft oatmeal Loro Piana cashmere sweater, beautifully relaxed Zara trousers, delicate gold bracelets and thick socks disappearing into suede slippers. Her hair is twisted carelessly at the nape of her neck. A pot of soup simmers on the Aga. Lili is hovering close enough to steal a carrot.
That is where I would prefer to be—with the clothes, the food and the intimate rituals of the aspirational life Harry and Meghan appear determined to build in England. Because when you get to be a woman over 50, its the type of thing that begins to interest you more and more than constant conflict.
Unfortunately, the King has given us Latin jurisprudence instead.
The recent letter issued by the Lord Chamberlain at King Charles’s direction describes Harry and Meghan’s position as “akin to private citizens with commercial and charitable interests.” Their charitable work, it says, is undertaken in a private capacity.
Fine. Prince Harry is a private citizen.
But he is also quite obviously a public figure.
The two descriptions are not opposites, and no amount of Palace stationery can make them so.
HARRY IS PRIVATUS. SO WHAT?
The distinction between the private citizen and the public officeholder goes all the way back to ancient Rome.
A person exercising imperium possessed lawful authority on behalf of the state. A privatus acted without that governmental power. When a Roman statesman left office, he returned to private life.
But he did not necessarily become obscure. He could remain wealthy, famous, influential and capable of moving the entire Republic from his dining room. He might lose imperium while retaining immense auctoritas—personal influence—and fama, public reputation.
That is Harry.
He no longer represents the sovereign. He does not undertake state duties. His charitable and commercial activities are his own. In the proper constitutional sense, he is clearly a private citizen.
But “private citizen” answers only one question: does this person presently exercise public authority?
It does not answer whether the person is famous, influential, constitutionally significant, intensely scrutinised or exposed to extraordinary danger.
Harry surrendered the office. He did not surrender the fame.
PRIVATE CITIZEN. PUBLIC FIGURE.
Tom Sykes recently explained why he continues to care about Harry and Meghan: they are not “peripheral figures.” Harry is fifth in line to the throne; Archie is sixth and Lilibet seventh. In a certain sense, this is precisely the issue with even classifying Harry and Meghan as “private citizens”. Because are they really?
Do ordinary private citizens generate international headlines by entering a recording studio? Do they give the Government advance notice of their engagements so officials can determine what protection may be necessary? Do they found organisations that fill stadiums, assemble military delegations and attract global television coverage?
Are their marriages, lunches, outfits, school arrangements and family movements discussed by news organisations around the world every day?
Of course not.
Harry and Meghan act in a private capacity only insofar as their commercial and charitable activities are undertaken independently of the Crown. They clearly live under public-figure conditions, and they are legally members of the British royal family. No amount of nomenclature gymnastics can change any of this.
The modern concept of the public figure emerged from a much older idea of “public character”—someone whose prominence, influence or participation in public affairs made that person an object of widespread attention. The language developed alongside newspapers, political pamphlets and modern celebrity. Eventually, the law formally distinguished the public figure from the public official.
A public official possesses governmental authority.
A public figure possesses public prominence.
Harry is no longer the first. He remains indisputably the second.
RAVEC HAS TWO IMPORTANT WORDS IN ITS NAME
This distinction matters because RAVEC is the Executive Committee for the Protection of Royalty and Public Figures.
Harry previously received protection through the role-based royal route. When he stopped working for the Crown and moved abroad, RAVEC replaced that arrangement with a bespoke, visit-by-visit system.
But RAVEC also has an Other VIP category. The Court of Appeal has confirmed that this category includes people who have never performed public functions on behalf of the state.
In other words, private status, if we can even classify the fifth in line to the throne thus, is not disqualifying.
Taylor Swift supplies the gloriously obvious example. She is a private American citizen engaged in spectacularly successful commercial activity. She does not represent the British state. Yet following the discovery of a terrorist plot targeting her Vienna concerts, the Metropolitan Police provided specialist escort protection connected with her Wembley performances.
Taylor’s protection was temporary and attached to particular journeys surrounding her Wembley concerts. It does not prove that she was formally placed inside RAVEC’s continuing Other VIP category. But it establishes the principle: when a private public figure presents sufficient threat, vulnerability and potential harm, British authorities can provide exceptional police resources.
That principle cannot apply to Taylor Swift but evaporate when the private public figure is Prince Harry. True, Taylor’s presence on British soil was temporary, so she cannot be used as the leitmotif for Harry’s situation now that he is living in England. But she does provide a little piece of the puzzle.
AN ENTIRELY NEW APPLICATION
In my opinion, Harry need not ask for the return of what he once received as a working royal. He could make an entirely new, contemporaneous application in his individual capacity as a so-called “private citizen”. Note that this may not be the way I look at it. But the King’s letter described their position as “akin to” that of private citizens, so let’s play along:
Assess me as a private citizen who is also an internationally prominent public figure.
Such an application could be based on his circumstances today:
- his substantial presence or residence in Britain;
- his increasingly predictable family routine;
- recurring public and charitable engagements;
- his central role in the Birmingham Invictus Games;
- terrorism, extremism and fixated behaviour;
- the exposure of Meghan and their children;
- the limitations of private security;
- the national and international consequences of a successful attack.
That is not 2020 dressed in a new coat. The old arrangement was justified on the assumption that Harry lived abroad and would make only occasional visits. A father regularly travelling between home, school, charitable engagements and Invictus preparations presents a different security proposition.
A visit can be assessed from an itinerary. A life cannot.
THE LIFE BENEATH THE LEGAL LANGUAGE
And that brings me back to the life I would rather contemplate.
Meghan beside an English playing field in a camel Loro Piana jacket layered over a £39.99 Zara knit. Harry pretending not to become wildly competitive as Archie approaches the finish line. Lili wrapped in a navy coat, more interested in the promise of pudding than the final race.
Afterwards, perhaps there is roast chicken at a country pub, sticky toffee pudding with four spoons and a drive home beneath a pewter sky. Meghan’s boots join the muddy queue by the door. The celery finally makes its way into tomorrow’s soup.
This is supposedly the private life.
But privacy is not invisibility. The very routines that make a family feel settled—a school, a familiar road, a favourite restaurant, a weekly activity—also make its movements predictable.
The King may determine that Harry does not represent him. He cannot determine that Harry is unknown. He cannot erase the line of succession, the headlines, the crowds, the stadiums or the threats. And he cannot cross Harry out of the public-figure half of RAVEC’s responsibility.
Prince Harry is privatus: a man without public office.
He also possesses extraordinary fama: a man known throughout the world.
Private citizen. Public figure. Potential Other VIP.
All three can be true while Meghan stands in her Cotswolds kitchen wearing Loro Piana and chopping celery with surgical precision.
