Business & Finance
'The royals don't just cost us - they work for us - and let's be honest, we come out ahead'
Key Points
Every few months, like clockwork, someone in Westminster rediscovers the Sovereign Grant and demands to know what we get for our money. This week it's Lord Foulkes, who will tell the Lords that Britain has the most expensive monarchy in Europe and that the public is being short-changed. But let us first at least hear him out.
Every few months, like clockwork, someone in Westminster rediscovers the Sovereign Grant and demands to know what we get for our money.
This week it's Lord Foulkes, who will tell the Lords that Britain has the most expensive monarchy in Europe and that the public is being short-changed.
But let us first at least hear him out. Yes, the Sovereign Grant is close to £100 million a year. Nobody at the Palace pretends otherwise, and in a cost-of-living squeeze that affects the majority of us, it's right that it's scrutinised. But it's what the peer leaves out that tells the real story.
The Sovereign Grant is not a cheque written from general taxation. It is a slice of the profits of the Crown Estate, the vast portfolio of property, farmland and seabed that the monarch hands to the Treasury at the start of every reign.
That deal dates back to 1760. The Crown Estate now makes well over a billion pounds in profit, and the lion's share goes straight to the Exchequer to pay for hospitals, schools and, yes, you guessed it, peers' expenses.
The grant is a fraction of what the Crown hands over. Any other business that returned that much to its shareholders would be hailed as a triumph.
Then there's the work. Lord Foulkes sneers at "ribbon-cutting". But ask the thousands of charities with a royal patron what that ribbon is worth.
A royal visit means headlines, donations, volunteers and a morale boost no advertising budget could buy. I have seen it first hand countless times.
The King's Trust began life as the Prince's Trust in 1976, funded by the King's own navy severance pay, and has helped well over a million young people into work, training and education. Few politicians can point to anything they've built that has changed so many lives.
Prince William's Earthshot Prize has become one of the biggest environmental awards in the world, backing practical solutions rather than speeches.
And the Princess of Wales has spent more than a decade championing early childhood, because she understands that the first five years shape everything that follows. It's long-term, unglamorous work, exactly what we usually complain our politicians won't do.
As for the jets and the homes, it's a fair question about optics, and the Palace knows it. But many of those properties are held in trust for the nation rather than owned personally, and they are the backdrop for state visits, investitures and diplomacy that bring in trade and goodwill.
Lord Foulkes wants "strict audit and productivity metrics". Splendid. Let's audit the lot: the Crown Estate returns, the millions raised for good causes, the soft power no ambassador can match. And while we're at it, let's have a proper run on what value for money those Lords give us.
I suspect the family would pass with flying colours. The royals don't just cost us. They work for us, and on any honest reckoning, we come out ahead.