
There’s been chatter online among royalists and royal-watchers about this week’s revelations about Sarah Ferguson and her warm, friendly emails to Jeffrey Epstein after she promised to cut her ties with him. The online chatter has been: who, in the Windsor clan, is gunning for Fergie in particular? It’s beyond clear that Prince William is telling everyone that Fergie and Andrew must be completely cut off and evicted from Royal Lodge. It’s also clear that William is trying to use this as some kind of issue in his war against his father. But in the past 24 hours, there’s been a shift. A shift away from “the Yorks must be punished even further” to “the Yorks and the Sussexes are the same.” Is this William too? Is this some kind of rota WhatsApp talking point? Because two columnists devoted lengthy pieces to the comparison. The Daily Mail’s Sarah Vine did a reprehensible and deeply offensive piece suggesting that the Duchess of Sussex and Fergie are almost exactly the same. Because Fergie was emailing Jeffrey Epstein, and Meghan… spoke about how she was victimized by racism. I was going to ignore it, but then Lee Cohen (another unhinged royalist) wrote a GB News column blaming the Yorks and Sussexes for the monarchy’s declining popularity. I sh-t you not.
For an institution that relies heavily on public goodwill, the British monarchy cannot afford to be held hostage by irresponsible, self-serving members. The reputational damage caused by the Duke and Duchess of York, and the Duke and Duchess of Sussex, has become a corrosive force—eroding support, distracting from the monarchy’s core mission, and causing the public to question its soundness.
Charities, once among the most loyal allies of royal figures, have cut ties with Sarah, Duchess of York. Why hasn’t the monarchy done the same, and with the Montecito maurauders as well? A recent YouGov poll from August 2025 shows the gravity of the situation. Among 18–24-year-olds, only 30 per cent support retaining the monarchy, while 34 per cent would prefer an elected head of state. Just a decade ago, youth support hovered around 72 per cent. The decline is stark, and it’s not hard to see why. In an era demanding transparency, integrity, and relevance, the monarchy is struggling to distance itself from scandal, entitlement, and betrayal.
…If the Yorks are a liability due to their ineptitude, the Sussexes are a threat because of their intent. Their departure from royal duties might have been understandable had they done so quietly. Instead, they chose spectacle over discretion, grievance over gratitude. The final years of Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip were marred by attacks and thinly veiled accusations from Harry and Meghan—interviews, documentaries, books—each designed to burn bridges and extract maximum attention. Any entertainment of Harry’s returning to public service in Britain should be immediately extinguished. He’s shown himself to be dangerous and untrustworthy.
The Sussexes’ actions have not only commercialised their royal past but also weaponised it. Faux royal tours, private meetings framed as official duties, and self-pitying narratives have overshadowed the real work of the monarchy. It’s not reform they’re after—it’s relevance and revenue, built on undermining the very institution that gave them a platform.
Taken together, the damage from the Yorks and Sussexes forms a perfect storm. One family exploits the past through clumsy opportunism; the other through calculated sabotage. The result? Public trust is diminishing, particularly among younger generations. The monarchy’s focus is diverted from meaningful work—such as King Charles III’s environmental advocacy or the Prince of Wales’s campaigns on homelessness and mental health—to damage control.
While outside organisations act swiftly to protect their reputations, the Royal Family remains overly cautious, perhaps clinging to hopes of reconciliation. But misplaced loyalty and quiet diplomacy are no longer enough. These controversies aren’t just sideshows—they threaten the monarchy’s very legitimacy. The Royal Family should today put self-preservation over sentiment. That means formal, public distancing: revoking titles where possible, removing references from official websites, and excluding the Yorks from royal events and occasions.
The British monarchy has endured for centuries not by accident, but through adaptation. In the 21st century, that means shedding those who cause more harm than good. By decisively removing the Yorks and Sussexes, the King can restore focus, regain public confidence, and pave the way for a stronger and more respected monarchy.
I just got a flashback to 2019, when every time there was some new story about Andrew’s connections to Jeffrey Epstein, dozens of anti-Sussex stories were commissioned. Which is why I asked that question in the opening – is this Buckingham Palace? Is this Kensington Palace? Or is this just the ultra-royalist extremist view, that Harry and Meghan must be the designated scapegoats for any given royal? “By decisively removing the Yorks and Sussexes…” The Sussexes removed themselves to California more than five years ago, and they’ve only tried to tell their own stories, with their own voices, after being smeared, attacked and bullied for years. Beyond that, I think it’s incredibly funny that Cohen blames the Sussexes themselves for the monarchy’s unpopularity, and not the monarchy for how they treated Harry and Meghan.
Photos courtesy of Netflix.