If it suddenly feels as if the Prince and Princess of Wales are everywhere, then you wouldn’t be mistaken. There was the recent Apple + interview with film star Eugene Levy, where we saw Prince William whooshing around Windsor on his electric scooter, revealing how he wanted to do things differently when he was King. In a powerful personal essay titled “The Power of Human Connection in a Distracted World”, the Princess of Wales wrote about how children and families are living in “an epidemic of disconnection” with the widespread use of smartphones, computers and tablets, which she called “sources of constant distraction”.

In the same week, William appeared alongside his father King Charles at the Natural History Museum in London, and then the young royal couple made a surprise visit to Northern Ireland where the couple toured the Northern Ireland Fire & Rescue Service College in County Tyrone and visited a farm to learn more about sustainability. After a summer when they were criticised for not doing enough public engagements, a full charm offensive seems to be now in full swing. And many believe it may be because they need to establish a new relevance for a generation on whom their very survival will depend.

While many older Britons might appreciate a newly invigorated young royal cohort, there is a worrying void when it comes to their connection with the younger generation.

Whether you are a staunch royalist, a rabid republican, or somewhere in the middle, older generations have an abiding memory of the royal family. Boomers will recall Queen Elizabeth II’s ascent to the throne after the shocking early death of her father, King George VI, and Gen Xers will remember the street parties and TV spectacle of Prince Charles and Princess Diana’s lavish 1981 wedding – a fairytale that soon descended into a marriage marked by acrimony and affairs on both sides.

The death of Diana, Princess of Wales, signalled a dangerous moment for The Firm, with anti-monarchy sentiment at an all-time high. But after the careful rehabilitation of Camilla – from “the other woman” to the loving life partner of the then Prince of Wales – there has been a warm acceptance of the King and Queen as the love story that was always meant to be.

Parents and grandparents will have all manner of memorabilia, from crockery to tea towels, and souvenir coins commemorating royal milestones such as weddings and jubilees. Millennials might fondly remember where they were for the wedding of Prince William and Catherine – even if their main memory is getting an extra bank holiday and hitting the gym once the hangover wore off.

The Queen’s death in 2022 seemed to be the last time we felt remotely united as a nation. Yet the prevailing sense that it also marked the end of an era layered our grief with an existential kind of angst turned out to be well-founded. Three years on, the bonds that once united us feel more fragile than ever, and the last few years have been characterised by anger, disharmony, and a troubling sense that we’re heading in the wrong direction as a country.

Naturally, this has hugely impacted how we view our figureheads, and while Keir Starmer’s ratings are at an all-time low, there is also a sharp generational divide in perceptions of the monarchy and its future. According to a YouGov poll, while a staggering 77 per cent of over-65s believe the monarchy is “good for Britain”, a mere 30 per cent of older Gen Zs (18-24-year-olds) feel the same.

Talk to even younger Gen Zs and Gen Alphas – those who’ve grown up amid royal scandals, infighting, and rising resentment over inherited privilege – and the disconnect deepens. In a cost-of-living crisis that’s pushed millions of families into poverty, the relevance of the royal family, or any positive feeling toward what they represent, is evaporating fast.

Recent statistics show that 4.5 million children in the UK now live in poverty – many in households where parents work full time. Against that backdrop, the sight of gilded palaces and multimillion-pound estates feels jarringly out of touch.

And holding those in power to account is something Gen Z has become increasingly adept at. The so-called “Gen Z protests” have seen this generation take to the streets across a number of countries, motivated by grievances over wealth inequality, corruption, and lack of access to education and healthcare. Demonstrations have spanned Africa, Asia, and South America in recent weeks.

Within the past month, these Gen Z protests have even toppled one country’s government (Nepal) and contributed to the dissolution of another in Madagascar – underlining young people’s growing influence in public life around the world. We’ve seen glimpses of this generational anger in the UK too – from climate marches to campus protests over Gaza. My own research tells me it might be only a matter of time before that anger moves to a target closer to home.

I recently asked 2,000 11-18-year-olds across the socioeconomic spectrum for their views on the royal family, and an interesting picture emerged: only 27 per cent viewed the royals “very positively”, while 39 per cent viewed them “negatively”.

Like their slightly older counterparts, British teenagers are gripped by economic and job insecurity – entirely understandable when a shameful 31 per cent of children in the UK now live in poverty. The perception that the royal family are “greedy” and hoard wealth shouldn’t come as a surprise.

Tom, 13, expresses a typical sentiment: “I don’t dislike them because they’re bad people, but they’re greedy. My mum has two jobs and my dad just lost his. We’ve had to move three times since Year 7 because we can’t afford a house. How is it fair that they’re given all those mansions when loads of people can’t even buy one?”

In Eliza Filby’s Inheritocracy: It’s Time to Talk about the Bank of Mum and Dad, she calls parental financial support “the most obvious but hidden privilege”, noting: “For anyone under 45, it’s not what you’re earning or learning — it’s your access (or not) to the Bank of Mum and Dad that defines your opportunity.”

Gen Z and Gen Alpha know this all too well. They talk endlessly about “unearned privilege”, and many see the royals as its ultimate embodiment – or, as Gus, 15, puts it, “the ultimate nepo babies”.

The highly publicised rift between Prince William and Prince Harry has also shaped young people’s views. Growing up in a hyper-online, tribal world, they’ve been conditioned to pick sides – Team William or Team Harry, Team Kate or Team Meghan. The toxic online rivalry only reinforces their perception of the monarchy as fractured and fractious – hardly the image of stability.

Kat, 14, says: “I’m Team Harry and Meghan. William and Kate act nice, but I think they’re bullies. If William can’t even be nice to his brother, how can he be King?” But Raina, also 14, disagrees: “I think Catherine is beautiful and brave with her cancer battle. Meghan and Harry’s interviews were embarrassing. They looked more like the Kardashians.”

Then there’s Prince Andrew. Awareness of his association with Jeffrey Epstein is startlingly high among Gen Alpha – 88 per cent, according to my own survey. Most have watched the documentaries and online coverage and are unimpressed by attempts to downplay it. The continued presence of the disgraced Prince is not looked upon favourably by younger generations, who are fully invested in believing Epstein’s victims, as well as following the leads of multiple conspiracy theories which take them to bigger narratives of abuse of power and links to international cover-ups.

Lawrence, 14, sums up the mood: “I can’t believe they still let Prince Andrew live in a palace. We’ve all seen the Epstein stuff. Pretending it’s fine is insane.”

There is, however, a sliver of good news for the monarchy. Gen Alpha don’t overwhelmingly want it abolished – but they do want reform. Fifty-one per cent of those surveyed favour modernising the institution, compared with 31 per cent who want to see it gone altogether. The question is whether they’ll be satisfied with Prince William’s positioning as the “King of Change” in his interview with Eugene Levy.

The most common suggestion from young people? Be more caring, more transparent, and more accountable for what we are getting for our money.

Harry, 15, told me: “My mum liked the royal family until Covid. She said they did nothing when people were struggling. If they want support, they need to do something, not just wave and wear nice clothes.”

Ultimately, the monarchy exists by consent, not by divine right. In constitutional terms, it survives for as long as the public – and Parliament – wish it to. Regular polling still shows around 60–65 per cent of Britons support keeping it, but that figure is falling fast among the young.

Molly, 14, reflects an increasingly prevalent view: “We had a debate at school about whether they’re good value for money. My side won – they’re not. They could still bring in tourism without costing so much. It’s like our parents are paying for a reality show.”

Once upon a time, we might have revelled in royal pomp and pageantry. But in an age of economic struggle and social division, it’s an institution that feels out of step and heading for tension

While 81 per cent of the over-65s say that Britain should continue to have a monarchy, this falls with each age group to just 41 per cent of 18-24-year-olds and is dropping every year. In a world already fractured by conflict and inequality, when even the royal family cannot project unity, they risk looking less like a stabilising force and more like an expensive luxury. And while there’s no sign that the next generation is ready to pay the price of abolishing them entirely, The royal family should take note: the real question is not the cost of getting rid of them – but the cost of keeping them as they are.