“Harry and Meghan embody my silly generation,” says Tim Stanley in The Daily Telegraph. They obsess about “identity” and accuse the media of bias for pointing out that their Netflix documentary is “packed with disputed claims”. Their endless introspection is meant to be a victory over “toxic masculinity” and the “prison of British reserve”. It’s the same madness that says football managers have to double as therapists and politicians should “feel our pain”. What rot. Self-control used to be celebrated. Older generations kept working as doctors, despite the long hours and low pay, because “the world needs doctors”. Meghan and Harry ran away to America to spend more time looking after themselves, telling anyone who’ll listen “how hard it was living in that palace”.
I don’t blame them, says Marina Hyde in The Guardian. Yes, it’s slightly maddening that they rehash the same events, claiming to be seeking a new life while remaining “obsessed with their old one”. But retelling the same story can be a lucrative business – just ask John Grisham. What I don’t understand is why the rest of us don’t “leave the entire thing alone”. We know the ins-and-outs of their tale, and it’s an incredibly boring one. Yet we seem locked in a “destructively symbiotic relationship”: “You shut up!” “No, YOU shut up!” The truth is, people “love the drama, love to take it personally… love to act as if they know the family”. So columnists like me keep churning out Megxit content, which in turn boosts the couple’s profile, and the cycle goes on. The whole “psychodrama” continues “because no one really wants it to end”.