I was moved by Kate’s cancer video – but should she be controlling the narrative?

On the surface, the Princess of Wales’s celebratory post-chemo video message is just that – a cause for celebration.

The news that she has finished gruelling cancer treatment – although, as the footage of her standing beneath towering trees seeks to portray, she is not yet out of the woods – is uplifting. No one could begrudge Kate the opportunity to share her relief with the public, or to convey her gratitude to Prince William and her photogenic family for their steadfast love and support, which has clearly carried her through.

But, on reflection, was this really the right way to do it?

Wouldn’t a simple official statement from Kensington Palace, or a fresh, happy-family snap, have been more appropriate? Or, if Kate wanted to help inspire other cancer sufferers with her story and to boost donations to cancer charities, couldn’t she have done a sit-down interview with the BBC?

An unfortunate undertone of Kate’s home movie, produced like a Hollywood film and with a heavily curated message, is that, like many celebrities today, the Princess is “calling the shots”. She is “owning” her narrative, appealing to the TikTok generation by showing us supposedly authentic, intimate, “private” family moments that reached billions of smartphones in seconds.

What the late Queen would have made of her and William lying in the sand dunes, cuddling, is anyone’s guess. Are we really supposed to believe that this chimes with a modern monarchy?

My first thought on watching the video was that if Meghan and Harry had released it, the nation’s howls of derision would be heard in Montecito. The opprobrium heaped on them would have flattened the Grand Canyon. Are the soft-focus shots of William kissing Kate’s cheek or Kate leaping on a hay bale materially different from Meghan’s promotional video for her new brand, American Orchard Riviera? The Duchess of Sussex publicises her jam with similarly bucolic images of slanting sunshine and an idealised home life.

If, in a world dominated by image, Kensington Palace creates and controls the royal couple’s narrative, is this not more like propaganda than free press? A three-minute video enables Kate to reveal exactly what she does and does not want us to know. We still do not know what her medical ailments have been, nor when she will return to full public duties. There is no opportunity to ask follow-up questions.

The message – or is it a directive? – is “look over here!”. Unspoken is that “We give you this so that you do not look over there.”

Why are we colluding with this saccharine soap opera, bowing and scraping to the diktats of palace press officers? The royal family deserves our scrutiny because we pay for them.

How much did this cinematic confection of self-promotion cost the taxpayer? One documentary maker I spoke to said that for such a slick promotional video, you could expect to pay anything from £100,000 to £200,000.

Why aren’t we being told how much we’ve paid for this? And why aren’t we allowed to ask any questions?