A Central London royal correspondent unpacks the constitutional and security puzzle behind Harry and Meghan’s insistence that they are private citizens
Three Cups Of Tea And An Aspirin
The London Prat has a piece in which Harry and Meghan insist they are private citizens while arriving at barrier-lined charity visits with pooled press, cheering crowds and somebody cataloguing a belt. A constitutional expert in the piece needs three cups of tea and an aspirin to conclude that the couple are private citizens for obligation, public figures for security, royal celebrities for engagements and ordinary parents when asking photographers to go away.
It is funny because it is, broadly, accurate. The status of a non-working member of the royal family is one of the least clearly defined positions in British public life. With the Sussexes now living in the UK, the question of what exactly they are has moved from an abstract debate to a practical problem that police, palace officials and the couple themselves must answer week by week.
No Job Description
There is no formal legal category for a non-working royal. Working members of the royal family carry out official engagements on behalf of the monarch, are supported in their official duties through the Sovereign Grant and the wider royal household, and accept constraints on their commercial activities. Members who step back from those duties, as the Sussexes did in 2020, keep their family relationships, their place in the line of succession and, in their case, their titles, but they no longer represent the monarch officially.
That leaves a large grey area. A non-working royal is not an ordinary private citizen, because the public, the press and potential threats do not treat them as one. Nor are they an official public figure, because they do not hold an office. The Prat’s expert, with his three cups of tea, is describing a position that genuinely has no settled rules.
The Security Question
The sharpest practical consequence is security. Protection for members of the royal family and certain other public figures is decided by a body known as RAVEC, the Executive Committee for the Protection of Royalty and Public Figures, which sits under the Home Office and includes police and palace representatives. After the couple stepped back from royal duties, the level of taxpayer-funded protection the Duke receives in the UK changed, and he challenged that decision in the courts. In 2025, the Court of Appeal ruled against him, upholding the government’s approach of assessing his protection case by case.
Living in the UK makes this question more pressing. A visit can be planned around. Daily life cannot. Every school run, every supermarket trip and every charity visit becomes a potential security consideration. The couple’s insistence on privacy and their need for protection pull in opposite directions, which is precisely the paradox the Prat sends up. A private citizen does not usually need a protection assessment. A public figure does not usually ask photographers to leave.
Who Pays
Behind the security question is the question of cost. Protection for royals is funded by taxpayers, and public opinion on whether non-working royals should receive it is divided. Some argue that the threat to a member of the royal family exists regardless of whether they carry out engagements, so protection should follow the threat. Others argue that stepping back from public duty means stepping back from public funding. The courts have, so far, left the decision with the government and its committee. Politicians have generally preferred not to comment in detail, for understandable reasons.
The Commercial Dimension
There is a further complication. The couple have built commercial ventures, including media and lifestyle projects, and reports this week suggest continuing interest in television and entertainment work. Working royals are expected to avoid commercial activity that might trade on their status. Non-working royals face no formal bar, but every commercial decision invites the accusation that they are profiting from the royal connection they have stepped back from. The Prat’s belt is, in a sense, a commercial question: when a famous person wears something, it sells, whether they intend to sell it or not.
A Model From Elsewhere
Other European monarchies have grappled with similar questions. In recent years, several have slimmed down the number of family members with official roles, removing titles or allowances from more distant relatives so that they can pursue private careers. The approach is not always smooth, and families have sometimes objected publicly. But it reflects a broader recognition across European monarchies that the boundary between royal and private needs to be clearer than it once was. Britain has not yet formalized anything comparable for members in the Sussexes’ position.
What Should Happen Next
My own view is that clarity would serve everybody. A clearer framework for non-working royals, setting out what they may and may not do commercially, how their security is assessed and how their relationship with the institution works, would reduce the guesswork that fuels so much hostile coverage. It would also protect the couple from accusations that their every move is calculated. Clear rules make for quieter headlines.
Until then, the Prat’s expert will need his aspirin. You can follow my coverage of the monarchy and its constitutional questions on my author page.
Outside Kensington Palace
I stood outside Kensington Palace this week, where the Duke grew up, and watched a steady stream of visitors photographing the gates. A young American asked me whether the Duke and Duchess were royals or not. I started to explain about RAVEC, the Sovereign Grant, working and non-working members and the Court of Appeal. After about thirty seconds she held up a hand and said, so, kind of. I said yes, kind of. It was, I realized, the most accurate constitutional analysis I have offered all year.