What good is an investigation into the Princess Diana BBC interview from 25 years ago?

I’m not sure what a inquiry into the circumstances surrounding a BBC interview that took place 25 years ago between two consenting adults can achieve.

Is the point of the exercise to reinforce the notion that Princess Diana was unstable, incapable of making a rational decision? Or is it to brand the reporter someone who used questionable methods to achieve his aims, methods which miraculously have gone unchallenged for decades?

If Martin Bashir has committed a crime, then it is a matter for the police. If Princess Diana was deceived and – as a result of being fed any untruths – participated in something she would not have otherwise considered, that is a very tricky case to prove. Either way, one of the pair will have their reputations dissected and found wanting.

Following a damning documentary on Channel 4, which made a series of charges about the methods used by Bashir to obtain his 1995 Panorama scoop – including the alleged use of fake bank statements – the BBC has bowed to pressure from the aristocracy (Diana’s brother Earl Spencer and the Duke of Cambridge) and set up an inquiry, appointing a distinguished former Supreme Court judge to chair the proceedings.

Friends of Diana, like Rosa Monckton, are weighing in, accusing the BBC of making money out of "a criminal offence". Whatever the circumstances, the princess did herself few favours by appearing in the programme. She seemed overwrought and tearful, dressed in black with dramatic eye make-up and seemed oblivious to the harm the recording would do to her sons. This was a historic performance which would haunt them for years and (as they have acknowledged) blight their mental development. As a gaming tactic in her marital battle with Prince Charles the interview backfired because she appeared vengeful, with some viewers doubting she was telling the truth.

And why did Diana choose Panorama to air her grievances, a factual series whose speciality was hard-hitting investigative journalism – wars, cancer, financial scandals? In 1995, the programme team was made up of a macho group of men, and Martin Bashir must have felt a bit of an outsider. I’d interviewed him for a job a few years earlier and did not find him that impressive – at the time he had been a sports reporter. Landing a job that I believe that was above his ranking at the BBC’s flagship investigative series, he would have been keen to make a mark. What better way than persuading the world’s most famous woman – a person who was lonely and whose marriage had failed – to tell her side of the story?

As a former BBC executive and newspaper editor, I know it can be hard to track how every single reporter operates. You have to trust they follow the codes of practice, especially if the result will attract massive coverage. Panorama thrived and flourished after that interview which won awards and was sold around the world, and which brought Martin Bashir to Michael Jackson’s attention. Perhaps the BBC were naive, and did not realise that in the long term they would pay dearly for this betrayal of the delicate relationship between the monarchy and the state broadcaster.  

This inquiry into Bashir’s methods will cost a fortune and prove nothing substantial. It won’t bring closure to Harry and William or reset their mother’s reputation. It’s a PR exercise designed to rebuild the broken relationship between the BBC and the monarchy. The crown has traditionally expected the media to be deferential, which is why the younger royals have increasingly opted to "talk" to ITV, often via their friend Tom Bradby. Even so, 25 years on from That Interview, the BBC managed another royal scoop last year with Prince Andrew’s ill-advised chat to Emily Maitlis concerning his relationship with the convicted paedophile Jeffrey Epstein.

Now, we are enjoying series four of The Crown and with an alternative version of Diana to compare with the sad-eyed woman on Panorama. The Crown has been top quality soap, a brilliantly crafted and beautifully dressed version of the royal family, one that provides us with plenty of imagined gossip, in-fighting and family feuding – just the tonic for these dreary nights of lockdown.

There has been ample coverage of the Bashir interview by interested parties – media owners like Rupert Murdoch who have their own TV and radio stations whose dream would be to truncate the BBC and get rid of the licence fee. It’s in everyone’s interests that the royals dominate the news, because it sells newspapers, is online clickbait and drives paid access to subscription channels like Amazon and Netflix.

Since that Diana interview, the royals have become huge media reality stars whether they seek to participate or not. The decision has been taken out of their hands. By suing Associated Newspapers – publishers of the Daily Mail and Mail on Sunday – over the publication of a letter she had written to her father before her wedding, the Duchess of Sussex has made a strategic error just like Diana did 25 years ago.

The monarchy wants to chat with us about mental health and a host of "good" causes, but they also want to bring down the shutters when it suits them. Diana’s silly interview made that impossible, and ever since the royals have failed to understand how their special mystery has been wiped out. Most people probably believe that the antics depicted in The Crown really happened. And who can blame them?

The royal family’s antics – divorces, dalliances with dodgy financiers with a penchant for very young girls, the sibling rivalry and the battles between the wives – is exactly like Emmerdale or Hollyoaks, with better hats. The lovely picture released this week of our 94-year-old Queen and her 99-year-old husband celebrating their 73rd wedding anniversary is a carefully staged piece of PR, designed to showcase everything that’s wonderful and unique about our malfunctioning monarchy.

It may be too late – Diana dealt “The Firm” a fatal blow back in 1995.