Must We Use Prince Andrew’s Preferred Pronouns?

King Charles III has removed the “Style, Titles and Honours” of his brother Prince Andrew. The move is likely in response to resurfaced allegations of sexual misconduct in Virginia Roberts Giuffre’s posthumous memoir Nobody’s Girl.

So the second son of Queen Elizabeth II will now be known simply as Andrew Mountbatten Windsor.

What are we to make of this? A few days ago, Andrew was a prince; but today he is…not? We can no longer call him Prince Andrew?

Is this like a preferred-pronoun thing?

It sounds equally futile. Because whatever Charles might demand we affirm him as, Andrew remains a prince.  

Surely, Charles wishes to extend his sympathy to abuse victims and make clear how strongly he condemns the crimes his brother is accused of. But whether he knows it or not, he is denying the entire foundation of monarchy with this action.

Of course, he’s not the first king and head of the Church of England to behave as though monarchy is simply an exercise of power.

Catholics, in contrast, have a special—that is to say, the correct—understanding of monarchy because we have the correct understanding of marriage and family.

Marriage, the basis of the family, endures for life. Marriage is real. A man leaves his parents and cleaves to his wife, and the two become one flesh. This is a literal truth. So no matter what happens after the spouses take their vows and consummate their union, they are husband and wife as long as they both shall live.

From St. John the Baptist to St. John Fisher, many glorious martyrs have died defending this truth. We especially remember St. Thomas More, Lord Chancellor of England under Henry VIII. We all know the story of how Henry wanted his marriage to Catherine of Aragon annulled so he could marry Anne Boleyn. When the pope refused, Henry declared himself head of something he styled as the “Church of England.”

Parliament soon passed an act requiring subjects to call Anne “queen” and Henry “the head of the ‘Church,’” but More refused. He was arrested, imprisoned in the Tower of London, and beheaded. In a way, you could say St. Thomas More died refusing to use Henry VIII’s preferred pronouns.

So back to King Charles.

Twenty monarchs have ruled England between his reign and Henry’s. For all the good it may contain, their monarchy is based on a falsehood. So I’m sure to them the king can strip his brother of the title “prince” just as easily as Henry could declare Catherine of Aragon was no longer queen but Anne Boleyn was—and then Jane Seymour, and then Anne of Cleves, and then Catherine Howard, and then Catherine Parr.

But reality does not work that way. A king is to serve justly and not by brute force or will. And he can no more say his brother is not a prince than he can say he is not his brother.

We Catholics don’t realize how critical this truth is to so very many things. Marriage is real, so family is real. Family is real, so kidnapping is wrong. Family is real, so the state cannot say how many kids you can have. Family is real, so child neglect is a crime.

This is a good thing, Catholics! It can be a cross, to be sure, but it is a good thing. An abusive father, as awful as he is, does not stop being a father. A wicked, ungrateful son does not stop being your son. And thanks be to God. Look at the Parable of the Prodigal Son. The bond, however abused and in need of grace, endures. Never forget: family is real because marriage is real. The consequences of forgetting this, as the British monarchy has, is a sign of where our society is headed.

And of course, none of this is to say there have not been sinful Catholic monarchs. Look at King John, William II, and of course Henry VIII before his revolt, to name a few. There have been bad kings. But they were still kings. There are bad fathers, but they are still fathers. The recognition that some kings or fathers were bad is evidence that God has placed the desire for perfect goodness in our hearts. It only amplifies how we know, deep down, that kings of nations and fathers of families are there to serve lovingly and selflessly, and we will have perfect goodness only when we are with the King of Kings, the Son of God our Father.

I have no doubt there are times King Charles wishes Prince Andrew were not his brother. He can pretend he is not; he can take away his titles, make him move out of the castle, and perhaps even demand Parliament pass a law requiring British subjects to call him a new name. But his brother will always be Andrew, and Andrew will always be a prince.