What is about Prince Philip that moved so many people? Even for those who met him, surely a brief interaction with a stranger is hardly enough to form an emotional connection? If it is, see a psychiatrist. Or if you’re attractive, come see me.
Only the normal number of people will be mourning the loss of someone they knew. Did the rest of us know him vicariously, through his celebrity lifestyle? Let’s ignore the fact that you don’t really know someone even then: you don’t have the interactions and relationship normal people do. But people can feel like they know a celebrity after watching someone’s intimate moments and reactions, or reading about them.
Prince Philip was not such a celebrity. The monarchy has survived precisely because the most regal of them are characterless, expressing no opinions, showing no unusual reactions and always following the crowd. We laugh about “And what do you do?” but they say that because that’s the line to say: their lines are predetermined. Prince Philip’s gaffes don’t change that; they barely form enough jokes for half a stand-up comedy show, even if they were all funny. They’re a tiny glimpse of humanity peeking out, and quite possibly that peek is of racism, which I suspect even racists don’t find endearing enough to be the entirety of an emotional connection.
That’s ruled out the obvious reason: there cannot be a genuine reason to mourn for any sane person.
Next then, is the nation in mourning simply because no-one is brave enough to question some sort of assumed default? Are we all secretly uninterested but pretending, like with baby photos? I don’t think so. There are enough of us being openly sceptical of mourning that the mourning bandwagon would have ground to a halt. There are people out there leaving flowers at Windsor (despite being asked not to), gobbling up ‘news’ articles and expecting national mourning, whatever that might be.
They’re not actually grief-stricken, but they would like people to ‘show some respect’. And that seems to me to be the key phrase. Prince Philip needs no more respect. What we must show is respect for these people’s feelings, attitudes and beliefs about our customs.
1. The comfort of ritual
There’s a reason that religions (in particular) turn big life events into rituals. Knowing what to do, and that many others have gone through the same thing, is comforting. It turns the scary unknown into everyday life. That is a bad thing with death, which people sometimes seem far too comfortable with, but it helps everyone deal with major life events. Rituals allow you to turn off and simply go through the motions that are required.
I think that for many people, not just the mentally unusual, ritual is something pleasant and comforting even outside of their own major life events. From a church service every week to formulaic ‘call-and-response’ greetings and conversations, rituals provide a comfortable means of engaging with the world and feeling part of something bigger.
A ritual of national mourning is an opportunity to do the same thing, but on a national scale: a way to feel unity that surely only the disloyal or deliberately antisocial would ignore? Rituals do not unite us with those who do not take part.
2. Shared grief
It’s beyond belief that strangers could feel any serious grief over Prince Philip. But the modern world is full of variations on voyeurism; the strange delight that people take in observing and, it seems, sharing others’ emotions. Soap operas, dramas, reaction videos, Gogglebox… this is entertainment. Hard to believe, and yet clearly true. It’s a weird sort of empathy in which we enjoy feeling or observing emotions, no matter what those emotions are, which is why embarrassment in comedy is so popular.
A period of national mourning is an opportunity to observe a whole nation displaying emotions; a drama to take part in and enjoy, just like all drama. But if people aren’t doing the displaying, preferring to be realistic or stoical, then they are deliberately sucking away the fun.
3. Established culture
The death of a public figure is an opportunity to create or skew national culture. Adopting the behaviours of a culture is a way to enhance one’s belonging to it. If you feel that traditions and culture have been eroded too much, and a figure represents tradition, or your subgroup of the national culture, then it’s important to make as much as possible of his death, to help dominate national culture.
This is especially important when support for the monarchy is a divisive issue already, almost a proxy for other parts of the culture wars that have far more practical importance. A figure who represents tradition, in general, is very important for people who feel that tradition, in general, is being lost. His death is a metaphor for wider cultural loss, and therefore somewhat sad, but it can also be an opportunity to reinforce or create traditions, reversing some of the loss.
Except that some people seem to undermine this goal, betraying their country by choosing not to belong to this definition of what it is.
4. Authoritarianism
Some people just like rules and rigid structures that dictate behaviour. Diversity repels them; it makes the world feel chaotic and disorderly, and we all know that disorder is a synonym for anarchy. Respect for a death is a nice, vague phrase in which the ‘respect’ brings nice fuzzy feelings of respect for authority (the authority they trust and are a part of), respect for elders, and in general a humble population that thinks of others and doesn’t cause trouble.
One might even call such a population subdued.
5. Awkwardness
It’s well-known that the British are a socially awkward culture who struggle with genuine, spontaneous and yet well-balanced displays of emotion. For those who are repressed by this stoic culture, but who would prefer to be French or even Italian, any opportunity to display some sort of feeling is good practice and feels good.
6. Loyalty
Respect isn’t really needed for Prince Philip, but for the tribe of which he was the figurehead’s consort. As something vaguely connected to a figurehead (itself a weird concept for a society), he therefore also represents the tribe, and respect for his death translates to an acknowledgement of tribal loyalty for those who make all these subconscious connections.
As with hazing rituals, it’s not so much about what is done, but that an effort is made. Because it is almost exactly like a hazing ritual, for membership of the elite club of British patriots.
7. Moral superiority
As with any display, a display of loyalty and belonging can turn into a competition for status. For those whose status is otherwise ‘dimwit’, the opportunity to achieve a moral victory can elevate them for a while. The whole point is to look down on and criticise others: to create a new (or perhaps remind everyone of a different) axis of worth. Virtue is in loyalty and sacrifice for the tribe and that means that those who do not are not virtuous and must be attacked.
By respecting a death that is only related to our national figurehead, mourners show themselves to be particularly attuned to the highs and lows of the tribe, since the figurehead represents the tribe and one needs to be especially sensitive to care about the wider web of connections. They show themselves to be the ‘best’, most loyal Britons.
What could be more respectful of a prince than chasing arbitrary and otherwise worthless concepts of social status? And what is more respectful of the traditions of the British monarchy than looking down on others whom we deem not British enough, no matter how worthy they really are?
I know that these all overlap, but that’s the nature of life: explanations, evidence or emotions merge into one another in a web of mutually buttressing facets. I personally have no interest in belonging to a group of dolts who think that belonging is itself the best virtue. That’s a circular argument and a pointless waste of time. I am happy being stoical and careful; I do not care for displays of emotion and think they have no value in their own right, and rarely any practical value either. I think for myself, and in so far as my national culture demands national mourning, I will refuse and play a small role in changing national culture to be sensible, instead of playing along.
It seems off to hold up national culture as great and important and yet by playing along to its importance fail to make it better. That simply makes it less great!
At root, I simply do not care for figureheads, and rather than refusing to be loyal, or virtuous, or part of Britain, I simply do not agree that these things are demonstrated by the logical fallacies of mourning for a stranger. Britain was once a proudly pragmatic, sensible country. That’s the Briton I am.
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