Are the mass media killing off the British Monarchy, or has the Monarchy–in its desperate fight to retain a hold on the public imagination–brought most of its problems on itself, by mismanaging its media relations? The modern history of Palace-press dealings can be used to support both theories. Thus, if editors are to be held responsible for switching from craven adulation to prurient derision in order to boost sales, the Palace can equally be blamed for naivety or complacency, and for helping to create a bubble of unreal expectations that was bound to lead to disillusion sooner or later. There is also a third, less judgmental, interpretation of the Monarchy's image problem: namely, that it has been caused, not by unwise policies–or even by the misadventures of individual family members–but by changes in the technology and economics of mass communications over which neither courtiers nor editors have ultimate control. By this interpretation, there could scarcely be a more salutary illustration of the way a revolution in the medium revolutionises the message, than in the treatment of the royals in recent times. The tale is important in itself, politically and constitutionally; it also has a direct bearing on the development of national, political and general-interest news.

There is no beginning to the story. The Monarchy, of course, pre-dates the media, but it has always been concerned about public opinion. Since the institution lost the bulk of its political power, it has depended for its survival on the success of its public relations; and the Court has appreciated the value, as well as danger, of public curiosity. There would be little point, after all, in a national symbol, if the nation ignored it, or a constitutional Royal Family, if its members were not seen as private individuals as well as public figures. That has been one side of the equation. The other has been the desire of people born or married into the me¬ nage to preserve a part of their lives, behaviour, and emotions, from public scrutiny.