A Nation Outraged

There was a phone-in on the radio this morning where callers were incandescent with rage. Properly furious. You could practically hear their blood pressure monitors packing up.

Was it about Reform UK and the questions surrounding its enormous donations?

Was it about reports that a Russian oligarch close to Putin helped fund Donald Trump Jr’s wedding celebrations? Trump says his son has since paid him back, which presumably makes the whole business absolutely fine. Just your everyday wedding admin. Flowers, seating plan, reimburse Putin’s mate.

Was it about civilians in Gaza, where the UN continues to report children being killed?

None of the above.

It was about what Earl Spencer alleges King Charles said after Diana’s death nearly thirty years ago. Spencer stands by his account; the Palace has challenged it. Cue national uproar.

A Spat Between Blue Bloods

Now, Diana’s death was a tragedy. Her children lost their mother, and her brother lost his sister. Nobody needs to dismiss that to question why an alleged conversation from 1997 is consuming quite so much emotional energy in 2026.

But apparently Charlie might have said something horrible, and we must all have a view.

I mean, who fucking cares?

What are we supposed to do with this information? Demand a recount of the funeral? Ring a radio station and explain that we’ve always thought Charles looked a bit shifty?

It’s a family row involving people with inherited titles and houses big enough to contain their own weather systems. Yet listening to the callers, you’d think we had finally uncovered the scandal that explains why the country is falling apart.

Outrage Without the Effort

Of course, people can care about more than one thing. I’m perfectly capable of worrying about the state of the world while also becoming disproportionately annoyed by Reading failing to complete a five-yard pass.

But the allocation of outrage is extraordinary.

Political money, foreign influence and civilian deaths require difficult questions. Who benefits? Who is accountable? What should we demand from the people running things?

Royal gossip offers something much easier. Pick your favourite aristocrat, decide the other one is a bastard, then phone in. No awkward examination of power required.

The powerful must be delighted. We’re arguing about their manners while barely getting round to their influence.

If This Was the Plan, Congratulations

If starving state education of resources were part of some grand scheme to discourage critical thinking, you’d have to hold your hands up and say: fair play, the execution has been impressive.

I don’t actually believe there’s a secret committee somewhere signing off a national stupidity strategy. That would require a level of planning we rarely see elsewhere.

But an underinformed public, an exhausted public and a permanently distracted public are all rather convenient if you would prefer your activities to escape scrutiny.

Keep everyone furious. Just make sure it’s about something that requires absolutely nothing to change.

The Dead Cat Has a Title

I’m not suggesting this particular story was planted to bury another one. It doesn’t need to be. The effect is much the same.

Throw an aristocratic family dispute into the conversation and watch everything else slide down the running order.

Far-right extremism, political accountability, human suffering? We’ll come back to those.

First, another caller who is absolutely disgusted by something an Earl says a Prince said before most of us had broadband.

I despair.