It’s only right that I should begin this blog by congratulating Prince Harry who has been successful in a number of job applications. Firstly, he’s going to be ‘Chief Impact Officer’ with a private company called BetterUp which, and I quote, “combines coaching with dynamic and personalized (sic) digital experiences to accelerate members’ long-term professional development and drive personal growth — because we know that when your team thrives, so does your business.” Harry will be sorting out those impacts, I would imagine. I’m too thick to work out what a “dynamic and personalised digital experience” looks like. However, if a Prince is involved, it must be important. He will do this job alongside his other new job as a commissioner with the well-known, in Aspen, Aspen Institute, which we learn will “fight against misinformation” in the digital world. Yeah, you’re the man, Harry.
These new projects should keep his Dukeship busy in between appearances on the Oprah Winfrey show and changing nappies and I don’t begrudge him a penny of what he will earn in these two – let’s be very honest about this – two non-jobs. Inside or outside the royal family, Harry is box office and will give both companies huge public visibility which, say, a far more talented candidate who was not born into royalty could ever bring. We can poo-poo all this stuff but I don’t think it’s much different for those royals still within The Firm who earn huge sums for essentially being royals. Uncle Andrew literally does nothing for his money. The main difference, I suppose, is that you could not exactly describe Harry’s new jobs public service.
If Harry’s ascent to high-powered, in this instance, non-jobs proves only one thing it’s that it is not what you know, it’s who you know. It is by no means the province of the rich and famous to get on in life, to some extent, thanks to connections. Look around and you will see countless examples of people who got on, not least by way of the influence of others. You can’t knock it, can you? If you had a parent who could give you a leg-up in life, you’d take it, wouldn’t you? It could even have happened to me if, as an 11 year old boy I had accepted my father’s invitation to attend Bristol Cathedral School at his expense. I declined – it’s complicated – and the rest is history. God knows where that might have taken me in life. Still, I can honestly say that my failures are my own.
A failed writer, I still take the Guardian newspaper. On a Thursday, we are treated to a column by the TV and radio broadcaster Adrian Chiles. I like Chiles as a broadcaster, but his newspaper column does nothing for me. The self-deprecating style he employs on telly doesn’t cut it for me in his writing. Not that he isn’t good, but that there’s nothing outstanding about it. And his writing seems out-of-kilter with the rest of the newspaper. Then, I learned the probable reason for his Guardian column: he and its editor, Katharine Viner are an item. It is entirely possible that Chiles got the job entirely without Viner’s knowledge, on the grounds of his literary greatness, so maybe I do him an injustice. You can see how it looks, though. I know how it looks to me.
These are examples of how I see Britain today. We are as far more from being a meritocracy than we have ever been. The best jobs often go to old pals, something proved beyond all doubt by Boris Johnson’s sick and corrupt government and the rest of us pick up the pieces from what’s left. My experience is that this applies throughout society, in every area, through every social class.
However, I have to say meritocracy worked well in my case. I have so few skills that neither the most influential relative nor friend could have justified shoe-horning me into virtually any type of job. I say that not out of immodesty nor self-pity: it’s a simple fact. So, this blog is not really about me. It’s about what we are in this country run and owned by the many who also ensure their own people get all the best jobs in so many fields, whether that’s Prince Harry, Adrian Chiles or anyone in between.
