
King William V? No, Prince William’s Latest Power Move Is Just Peak ‘New Heights’ Cringe
Look, I get it. The British monarchy is basically a reality TV show that’s been running for a thousand years, but with worse lighting and no commercial breaks. We’ve got the “villain” who got exiled to a beach in California (hi, Harry), the “quirky sidekick” who can’t stop wearing camo to funerals (Princess Anne), and the “main character” who’s been speedrunning dad-bod energy since 2012. But yesterday, His Royal Highness Prince William, the Duke of Cambridge, Earl of Strathearn, and apparently now the CEO of the “Let’s Make Monarchy Relatable Again” initiative, pulled a move so bone-chillingly cringe that even the corgis are hiding under the sofa.
For those of you who haven’t been mainlining royal drama on TikTok, the latest “historic” announcement dropped like a bag of wet cement. Prince William, in a shocking display of trying-too-hard, has officially launched a new public initiative. No, it’s not about mental health, climate change, or even the homeless crisis he’s been vaguely pointing at for years. No. The man who will one day be King of England decided to launch a podcast. But not just any podcast. He’s calling it “New Heights.” And yes, before you ask, I’m 98% sure it’s a direct rip-off of the Kelce brothers’ show, because apparently the crown has run out of original ideas and has resorted to stealing from NFL players.
I’m not even joking. The BBC press release was a masterclass in self-parody. It described the podcast as “a deep dive into the issues that matter to the next generation, with a focus on community, connection, and the quiet resilience of the human spirit.” Translation: “We’re terrified the kids are gonna turn into republicans, so we’re gonna pretend William has a personality.” The first episode dropped with a guest that screams “desperate for relevance”: a 23-year-old climate activist from Birmingham who calls herself “Greta 2.0” and has 14,000 Instagram followers. Not exactly the interview with Taylor Swift that would have actually broken the internet.
But the real gem? The actual content. In the first 15 minutes, William talks about the “pressure of being a father” while simultaneously admitting he’s never changed a diaper. He laments the “toxicity of social media” while wearing a Savile Row suit that costs more than my car. And then, the pièce de résistance: he says, “I think we need to stop looking at the monarchy as an institution and start seeing it as a family business.” A FAMILY BUSINESS. Like it’s a mom-and-pop bakery in Brooklyn, not a tax-funded, centuries-old autocracy that owns half of London. I can hear the ghost of Queen Victoria screaming from the grave.
The internet, as you can imagine, did what it does best: immediately turned it into a meme. Twitter/X is currently a warzone of screenshots from the podcast where William’s face looks like he just smelled a fart in a church. The top trending hashtag is #NewCringe, followed closely by #JustCallUsDaddy. Someone already made an AI-generated episode where William interviews a talking horse about the cost of living crisis. It’s got 2 million views. The official monarchy account has already turned off comments, which is basically the digital version of putting up a “Do Not Disturb” sign on Buckingham Palace.
But here’s the kicker: this isn’t just a bad podcast. This is a symptom of a much larger problem. The royals have spent the last decade trying to “modernize” by doing the most performatively normal things. Meghan did a podcast. Harry did a memoir. Now William is doing a podcast, and let’s be real, the only reason Kate isn’t doing one is because she’s too busy being the only person in the family who looks like she actually does real work. The problem is that “normal” for a multi-millionaire who lives in a castle is a completely different universe than normal for the rest of us. When William says, “I find it hard to disconnect from my phone,” I’m supposed to feel sympathy? Bro, you have a butler who literally irons your shoelaces. Your phone is probably a gold-plated iPhone that the King himself blessed with holy water.
The cringe level is off the charts because it’s so transparent. This is a desperate bid for Gen Z relevance. The same generation that has zero interest in hereditary power, that thinks the royal family is a bizarre tax write-off, and that would rather watch a 12-hour stream of a guy building a shed than listen to a prince talk about his “struggles.” The irony is that the podcast’s name, “New Heights,” is actually accurate—it’s a new low for the monarchy’s PR machine.
Look, I’m not saying William is a bad guy. He’s probably a decent father (when the nannies let him), and he’s done some good work on the environment (when it’s not raining). But this whole “I’m just a regular guy in a crown” act is starting to smell worse than the Thames in August. The fact that he’s using a podcast format, the most oversaturated medium in existence, to try and “connect” is like trying to fix a leaky faucet with a firehose. It’s not going to work.
The worst part? The first episode has 500,000 downloads. Because of course it does. People are hate-listening. They’re gathering around the digital campfire to roast the man who will one day be their King. It’s the ultimate form of online schadenfreude. And William is feeding the beast. He’s giving us the content we want, but for all the wrong reasons.
So, what’s the verdict? Is “New Heights” a genuine attempt at bridging the gap between the monarchy and the ple
Final Thoughts
Having covered the royals for years, it’s clear that William’s new “heights” aren’t about a literal title but a quiet recalibration of power—one that prioritizes emotional steadiness over spectacle. While his father’s reign is defined by a frantic need to slim down the monarchy, William seems to be building his future on a more sustainable foundation: strategic distance from controversy and a focus on legacy causes like homelessness. If he can maintain this balance between firm duty and genuine vulnerability, he may just pull off the impossible—making the Crown feel both relevant and human.