Meghan, Titles and Trust: Why Calls to Strip Honors Reflect a Deeper Crisis for the Monarchy

When a radio clip of former palace staffers and commentators dissecting a magazine interview goes viral, it is easy to reduce the fallout to personality clash and celebrity drama. But the sustained drumbeat demanding that titles be removed from a former working member of the royal family — in this case the Duchess of Sussex — signals something more consequential: a struggle over institutional identity, the limits of public roles in an era of celebrity entrepreneurship, and the mechanics of what it means to hold, or lose, a royal honor.

The conversation in recent days has centered on the optics of how Meghan Markle is presented in public and in media, and the motives ascribed to those choices. Critics point to moments in a profile interview — staged introductions, carefully curated settings, and repeated use of a ducal style — as evidence that a former working royal is exploiting the prerogatives of an institution she no longer serves. Supporters see these same actions as shorthand for family identity, personal history, or simple habit. Between those poles lies a series of constitutional, legal, and rhetorical questions that go to the heart of what modern monarchy is supposed to represent — and whether the institution is resilient enough to police its symbols in an age of global attention.

Title, Tradition, and the Modern Marketplace

A title is not merely a form of address. For the monarchy it is a symbol tethered to centuries of legal precedent, ceremonial duties, and public expectation. Historically, the grant and withdrawal of titles have been instruments for both reward and discipline. Removing a title is a rare and consequential act, usually accompanied by scandal that makes the change appear necessary rather than arbitrary.

Yet the symbolic weight of a ducal style has changed as the royal family’s reach intersects with the celebrity economy. The Duchess of Sussex’s post-royal profile — commercial projects, media appearances, and public advocacy — has blurred the lines for many observers between private enterprise and public office. For some critics, repeated use of a royal style in contexts outside official service looks like misuse: a grab for borrowed legitimacy. For fans and neutral analysts, the persistence of a title in informal usage reflects how titles function socially — as identity markers that survive formal role changes.

This distinction matters because it informs what a constitutional remedy would even look like. Stripping a title is not the same as asking a former spouse or ex-employee to stop using a company name. It is a formal, ceremonial action that typically requires royal assent and thoughtful handling. Demanding instant removal on the evidence of a few staged moments assumes a simplicity that does not exist in the law or in practice.

Protocol, Precedent, and Possibility

Conversations about rescinding honors often point to precedent: instances in which members have lost patronages or withdrawn from public roles. The public remembers headlines and apologies, and such memories shape expectations about what an institution can — or should — do when confronted with behavior it regards as inconsistent with its values.

But the mechanisms that allow the crown to withdraw honors vary depending on the kind of honor. Titles that are hereditary or created by letters patent sit within a legal and constitutional framework that is complex and historically rooted. Other functions — such as royal patronages, staff positions, military appointments, or the use of “His/Her Royal Highness” — involve a mix of personal permission, household practice, and government advice. Older precedents do not always translate cleanly into the modern media environment.

Any government or monarch considering revocation must weigh more than optics. They must consider legal consequence, political backlash, public sentiment, and the risk that punitive action will be perceived as personal or vindictive rather than principled. For a monarchy already navigating questions about relevancy and public trust, the calculus is fraught. Removing a title to make a point risks turning the institution’s instruments of discipline into flashpoints that attract more attention and deepen public divisions.

The Evidence vs. The Interpretation

The debate provoked by the Harper’s Bazaar interview and other public appearances is instructive because it illuminates the difference between evidence and interpretation. An introduction in a private home, a photograph taken at a prominent restaurant, a reference on a letterhead — each fact can be read in multiple ways. Critics will interpret repetitive references to a ducal style as entitlement or deliberate signaling; defenders will point to habit, personal identity, or social convention.

To adjudicate such claims fairly, institutions typically seek documented breaches of protocol or law rather than stylistic gripes. If a working royal uses an office for private gain, or if a title is wielded to mislead in commercial contracts, those are concrete complaints with formal remedies. If the complaint is that a former royal is “using” a title simply by being referred to as such in media, the remedy is less clear. The line between habit and abuse is slippery and subjective; that ambiguity is what fuels the most vociferous public reactions.

Public Expectations and the Price of Visibility

What drives much of the anger in public commentary is not merely the use of a title but a wider sense that former working royals are somehow benefiting from an institution’s cachet while rejecting its obligations. The modern monarchy depends heavily on public goodwill in exchange for its privileges. When figures associated with the monarchy step back from duty yet retain public benefits associated with their former role — such as visibility and symbolic weight — some see a moral imbalance.

This reaction ties into larger cultural dynamics: privilege that appears unaccountable is rightly judged harshly in an era that prizes transparency and fairness. For the monarchy, which is simultaneously an institution of continuity and a brand competing for relevance, these judgments can be especially damaging. The Crown’s brand value rests on a public perception of service, duty, and symbolic neutrality. Anything that undermines that perception risks eroding the consent that enables monarchy in a democratic society.

Political Ramifications and the Royal Household

Beyond public sentiment, there are practical political considerations. The crown operates within a constitutional framework in which the sovereign is politically neutral and the household must avoid entanglement with partisan conflict. Using formal instruments — like stripping titles — in response to what is essentially reputational or interpersonal behavior risks politicizing the monarchy further. It could also complicate relationships across government institutions and with foreign partners, especially when media narratives oversimplify complex questions into soundbites.

Moreover, royal households have to manage a delicate internal ecology. Decisions about public honors affect not only the individual in question but also family dynamics, staff morale, and institutional memory. Sudden or punitive actions can create long-term fissures that are difficult to repair. That risk is why most households prefer calibrated, strategic responses that address the underlying problem without escalating the moment into extended public grievance.

The Commercial Angle: Branding and Rights

A unique element in this case is the commercial reality of modern royal associations. In the post-royal life of a former working royal, branding and media opportunities often form a significant portion of public presence. Critics argue that a ducal style confers unearned authority in commercial contexts; defenders say that a surname or historic association is part of a person’s identity.

Regulation here is limited. Trademark law, advertising standards, and contract law can govern misuse in commercial settings — for example, misleading consumers about endorsement or implying formal royal approval for a product. If there were evidence of explicit misrepresentation in commerce, legal tools could bite. But absent that, the matter tends to live in public argument rather than courtrooms.

Gendered Critiques and the Celebrity Mirror

It would be naive to ignore how gender and celebrity culture shape reactions. Women in public life are often judged more harshly for displays of self-promotion, even when similar behavior from men is framed as assertiveness. The particular glare on female public figures who combine celebrity with advocacy is a recurring pattern: the same energy that fuels popularity also attracts critique. Some of the harsher commentary about the Duchess of Sussex — focusing on vanity, attention seeking, or staging — echoes broader patterns in media treatment of women who command public attention.

This pattern does not absolve legitimate institutional critique, but it complicates the terrain. Weighing whether conduct is an abuse of title is not free of the cultural assumptions that shape how we perceive ambition, performance, and identity.

What Would a Principled Response Look Like?

If the monarchy sought to respond in a way that addressed both the symbolic problem and the risk of politicization, there are several paths that would minimize spectacle:

Clarify Public Standards: The household could issue—or update—clear guidance about the use of styles and the expectations for former working royals. Transparency about how titles function after a change in status would reduce public confusion.
Targeted Remedies for Commercial Misuse: If there are cases where a royal style is used explicitly to mislead consumers or partners, pursue legal or contractual remedies rather than public denunciation.
Communications Strategy: Choose principled, limited language that emphasizes privacy and duty without turning the action into a referendum on a person’s character.
Institutional Reforms: Consider reviews of patronages, appointments, and how the household communicates changes in status to avoid ambiguity.

Each path recognizes the tension between symbolic authority and private life, aiming to preserve institutional legitimacy without staging a public spectacle.

The Broader Lesson: Institutions in an Age of Attention

Ultimately, the argument over whether a former royal should be stripped of titles is less about a single person and more about how institutions adapt to an attention economy that rewards visibility. Monarchies — like corporations, churches, and universities — must decide how their symbols translate into a world where every detail is amplified and every perceived inconsistency becomes a national conversation.

The choice to remove or retain honors is consequential not only for the individual but for the institution’s credibility. Heavy-handed responses risk playing into narratives of vindictiveness; inaction risks appearing to tolerate behavior that erodes public trust. The prudent course for any institution seeking longevity is to anchor decisions in clear principles and to communicate those principles consistently.

Beyond Punishment, Toward Clarity

Calls to strip titles are dramatic and newsworthy because they offer a simple solution to a complicated problem: if someone is using an honor improperly, simply take it away. But institutions rarely survive by acting on impulse. They survive by clarifying expectations, applying rules consistently, and communicating with the public in ways that build trust rather than inflame resentment.

If the debate over the Duchess of Sussex’s use of her style has one silver lining, it is that it forces these questions into the open. The monarchy — and the public that sustains it — now has an opportunity to consider how ancient symbols should be treated in a modern media environment. Whether that conversation leads to reform, recalibration, or quiet resolution will depend less on outrage and more on the steadiness of the institution and the clarity of its principles.

For citizens and observers alike, the lesson is simple: public symbols matter, but so do the procedures used to protect them. If the goal is an institution that commands respect, it will require treatment that is fair, thoughtful, and consistent — not theatrical.