Pressing concerns of the aristocracy

Tweet

As the world stands on the brink of an economic disaster brought about by the deranged occupant of the White House, and we ordinary mortals contemplate even further pressure on the availability, let alone the price, of essentials such as food and fuel, spare a thought for the trials and tribulations of that far from ordinary band known as the English aristocracy, the last of the hereditary members which are now, at last, being expelled from their cosy sinecures as part of the legislature of the United Kingdom. My thoughts lie particularly with the 7th Baron Carrington who was apparently disturbed by the possibility of losing his esteemed slot as the Lord Great Chamberlain, a post whose responsibilities include such important matters as 'attending upon' the sovereign and members of his family if they are ever present on the parliamentary estate, and organising the state opening of parliament (although I have a sneaky feeling that the actual ‘organising’ might just possibly be done by minions rather than by the noble lord in person).

It is obvious to all (well, all those who count, at least, including the Prime Minister who has agreed that the role should continue to be hereditary even if it is no longer accompanied by a seat in parliament) that the best way of choosing someone to fill this role is for the incumbent to inherit it from his (I believe that it’s still always going to be a he) forebears rather than to conduct any sort of assessment of their skills and abilities. The UK is, after all, a very special sort of meritocracy, in which merit is imparted by breeding. With a huge sigh of relief, the Baron can now be certain that the position is secure for himself and his descendants for generations to come.

Well, not exactly. The role might be hereditary after a fashion, but it’s shared between three families, passing from one to another whenever the sovereign changes. And one of those families has a 50% share, meaning that they get the job with every alternate sovereign, and the other two families have 25% shares, meaning that they only get the job once in every four sovereigns. Worse (if you happen to be a Carrington) is that the Carrington share is split 11 ways between different members of the family. What that means in practice is that the current incumbent has only been in post since the death of Elizabeth, and if Charlie Windsor pops his clogs tomorrow, no Carrington will hold the post again until Charlie’s first (currently unborn) great, great grandchild ascends the throne (if the monarchy lasts that long) in a century or more’s time. Even then, it may not be a descendant of the current incumbent, since the descendants of the 11 members of the family who jointly inherit the quarter share of the job will need to agree which of them should take the job.

Still, securing that somewhat tenuous privilege is clearly more important than the sort of thing which concerns we lesser souls.