This situation causes chagrin among many, jealous that Charlie's mere off-mic mumblings can be broadcast all over the world, yet their own voices—however much louder they shout—reach an audience of no more than a few angry men with beards, only 'listening' so that they may be 'listened' to in turn. The somewhat patronising tone of the Independent's take on the story is but one example of this.

All this is beside the point. Prince Charles is one of the few people with genuine influence who can openly criticise the government. There are others of course, but their numbers are dwindling, or their influence waning.

Opposition is not, you see, what it once was. Prince Charles, being an atavistic sort of gent, knows this, unwittingly or otherwise. When we declare, as a country, that we are going to bestow the government of the day with the power to pretty much act as they please for the next few years, as we indubitably do under the daft mechanism that is our entire electoral and parliamentary system, opposition to equally daft Acts and Bills can only come from a scant few quarters. A supine parliament, either whipped into toeing a fairly tragic line, ravaged by internal battles, or merely ineffective under the weight of the big fat party in power, is not great opposition, and a government without great opposition is generally not a great government.

Relying on the Lords and the Crown to voice dissent may be a little curious, but its better than an incurious absence. Lest we forget also that the simple act of disagreeing with the government is a good clue that Prince Charles is a stand up fellow; as the most-used quote on this blog serves to remind us, "every decent man is ashamed of the government he lives under." And the opinions of stand-up fellows should be cherished, not suppressed.

When living under a governmental structure that has a habit of letting those in charge entertain their unthinking whims without too much fear of a reprising smack, it is the right of everyone to voice their opposition, and for those whose voice is in the privileged position of being paid attention to, that right becomes something of a duty.