Kiss and Hell

When Lady Diana Spencer became engaged, an uncle went on News at Ten to confirm that she was a virgin. Now her elder son's first girlfriend is suffering the same patronising intrusion. The Virgin Princess, claimed yesterday's News Of The World across two of the five pages devoted to Prince William's mate Kate.

The revelation last week of this young lady's name by Sun snapper Arthur Edwards MBE led to the photographer being banned from future Alpine photocalls. But this punishment failed to deter another paper from reporting that Kate in Klosters would be followed by Jessica in Kenya. And now we have to read about The Virgin Princess: the adjective lascivious, the noun premature nonsense. The moment long feared by Princes Charles and William has come. His private life is now public. The sex-kittens are out of the bag.

For several years, the young Windsor brothers were the beneficiaries of media discretion unprecedented since the invention of instant picture transmission and satellite telephones. They were able to live out their adolescence and, in William's case, college days with a degree of anonymity that their descendants and biographers may come to see as astonishing.

This was because they had suffered a horrendous and horrifically publicised bereavement. Most of Britain - even, reluctantly, the tabloid press - became social workers, granting them a protection order.

But this emergency outbreak of decency always would, and should, have its limits. As adults, the princes could no longer expect protection from the flashbulbs. Besides compassion, the only reason for allowing the Prince of Wales's offspring an exception from the general rules of celebrity would be deference. In Japan and Monaco in recent times, princes have been allowed an invisibility denied tennis players or film stars. But this tradition of one rule for the famous and one rule for the rulers was ended in Britain in the 80s by, as it happens, the mother of William and Harry. Knowingly and excitedly, until she had things to hide, Diana created the idea of the pop-star monarchy and this is part of her inheritance to her children.

They may wish it otherwise, but her boys are now seen not as the continuation of an ancient, divine line, but as young millionaire celebrities, subject to the same interest and coverage as Wayne Rooney or Britney Spears.

In fact, there is, apart from post-Diana compassion and royal deference, another case for leaving William to ski and snog in peace. Why not allow more privacy for all young stars, Wayne and Britney as well? But the problem for the royals is that the only privacy agreements that journalists are likely to respect and the public to support are based on the idea that there will only be coverage of activities relevant to a person's job. For example, there's broad support for the view that what happens in the bedroom is not always relevant to what goes on in the boardroom.

However, if William has a job, it is to romance women and, ultimately, procreate, so ensuring the continuation of the dynasty that gives him his only significance. When the actor Alan Davies refuses to discuss his girlfriend with a Sun reporter buzzing at his intercom (as happened last week) Davies has a case; shagging, while often closely linked to acting, is not inherently connected with it. William Windsor, though, can't easily make this distinction. His profession is to meet and breed, while waiting for granny and dad to die.

This does not mean that all the prince's kisses should be open season for the snappers - any decent human being would hope that he can be left alone - but he presents the hardest of cases for protection from the press. In a way that applies to almost no other celebrity, his private life is his public role. This is the horror of the position into which he was born.

The paradox for William and any women attracted to him - and even more so for the father who would like to shield him from scrutiny - is that it's their supporters who are causing the problem. Admirers of Tony Blair might shun publications that contain coverage he found offensive, but it's Palace fans who pay for the petrol of the cars chasing Prince William down Lovers' Lane.

Republicans would support the idea of invisible princes, being genuinely indifferent to who Wills kisses. Those most eagerly buying the magazines and newspapers containing the snatched pictures are the people who dream of watching him become King William on TV and run form books on who might be his future queen.

Diana, although she could not have anticipated the scale of interest in her, chose a royal role. William, who got it by an accident of blood, deserves more sympathy. But the fact that every snog is seen as a possible date with destiny is not the fault of the media, but of the way that monarchy works.