JAN MOIR: I get why Kate and William made that fiesta of slush

Did you love it, did you hate it, did you think it was three minutes of unpardonable cringe?

Debate has raged all week about The Princess of Wales’ new video, released to the public to reveal that her course of chemotherapy has finished.

This is wonderful news, which should justly be celebrated – but did it really need a wheatfield, butterflies, slo-mo footage and Prince William snogging his wife and skipping about in regrettable shorts to do it?

Some say yes, it was marvellous. A spoonful of sugar, no matter how saccharine, helps the medicine go down. Others may have wondered if gurgling aliens high on laughing gas had ­body-snatched the adult ­members of the family.

Look at them! The mood was euphoric, while the sun-dappled vibe was one of a bucolic jamboree, as if some royal branch of the Squirrel Nutkin crew were gathering in the magic mushroom harvest.

Many voiced the opinion that if the Duke and Duchess of Sussex had released such a glossy, sentimental film there would have been uproar – and I think that is undeniably true.

Yet Harry and Meghan don’t need to frolic in cotton smocks down in Pogles’ Wood to get their message across. They have Oprah & Co, a circle of powerful television operatives they can depend upon not to ask any awkward questions if they need to get a sympathy vote or sell a book.

For William and Kate there is no such sanctuary. And for them, the stakes are so very much higher. After all, they are going to be the next King and Queen, not merely a couple of opportunistic jesters ruling over an exiled quasi-court in a land far away.

So while I personally thought this twee little film was trite at best and insulting at worst, I totally understand why they did it. For in today’s ravenous landscape dominated by social media, what are their options?

In the past, the Royal Family communicated important news by grudgingly pinning a terse note on the gates of Buckingham ­Palace.

That is if they bothered telling their subjects anything at all; in 1951, the public only knew that King George VI had lung cancer after he had died from the disease.

That tradition of secrecy and concealment has lived on, in ­varying degrees, until now.

In February, King Charles promptly shared his own cancer diagnosis to prevent speculation, and ‘in the hope it may assist ­public understanding for all those around the world who are affected by cancer’. It was a masterclass in efficient, pragmatic conveyance of bad news, appreciated by all.

With Kate, it was different. For a start, she is the mother of three young children. Their understanding of events had to be considered, first and foremost.

When it was announced in ­January that she was in hospital for ‘planned abdominal surgery’, she might have hoped for ­clemency and understanding – and from many sections of the public and the Press, that is exactly what she got. Yet as the months went by and Kate’s absence from public events became more noticeable – with no information forthcoming – there was collective online outrage.

Keyboard warriors in the cyber-peanut gallery were furious at being kept in the dark and responded with fevered gossip and misinformation.

Why? The problem is that today, the more virulent sections of the online community treat everything as if it were an entertainment. Murder hunts, court cases, the triumphs and tragedies of the rich and famous, the calamities that befall ordinary people, missing children . . . it is all meat and drink to them. They are ­ravenous for regular updates.

And into this rapacious social media abyss, where the ignorati frolic unchecked, fell the ailing Princess of Wales.

Telling your loved ones you have a cancer diagnosis is hard enough, but how do you share that bad news with millions of strangers?

The Princess of Wales was almost forced into it by online speculation that was becoming more prurient by the day.

So back in March she sat on a bench in the pale spring sunshine and told the world about her ­cancer diagnosis and preventative chemotherapy. ‘I am well and ­getting stronger every day,’ she said, as millions scrutinised her appearance for the tiniest flicker of ill health or bogus sentiment. She signed off, asking that any ­fellow cancer patients did not ‘lose faith or hope.’ Generous of her, in the circumstances.

Yet from that showcase of restrained dignity to this week’s lush fiesta of slush is one heck of a journey. What happened between these points of information that changed the narrative so much?

Perhaps the Waleses realised they would never be left in peace until they gave the online masses what they wanted: fresh content.

So they released this big glossy production, this puffball of posing that promised so much but in reality revealed so little (perhaps with the exception of far too many shots of Prince William’s big, hairy English knees – ugh, thanks but no thanks). There are even some scenes when it seems like a ­promo-vid for a new album of English folk songs from Kate, with dread moments when she looks as if she might start strumming a guitar and launching into a trilling version of Greensleeves.

I understand why they felt they had to do it, but still wish they had resisted the urge to appeal to the popcorn-munching masses.

For what comes next? A film, a book, a play – bigger and glossier productions every time?

William and Kate are going to be King and Queen one day, and ­ultimately this kind of well-­meaning schmaltz demeans the whole monarchy. What is wrong with a note pinned to the Palace gates? Absolutely nothing.

Be careful who you vote for 

The National Television Awards have come and gone for another year, thank goodness. For if its primary role is to underline the depressing and moribund state of British TV, then this tacky gong show is doing a marvellous job.

There were well-deserved drama awards for Mr Bates vs The Post Office but nothing for Baby Reindeer, which surely was equally commendable.

Elsewhere this year’s results, voted for by the general public, were particularly grim. Despite ongoing scandal, Strictly Come Dancing won in the Best Talent Show section, beating four other shows of embarrassingly creaking vintage. Mrs Brown’s Boys took the Best Comedy crown – Holy Mother of God – while Ant & Dec won the Presenter category for the 23rd year running, which says it all.

Meanwhile Davina McCall (pictured) got a lifetime Special Recognition award just because she has stuck around for what seems like several lifetimes because what else is she going to do?

The moral of this story is that you shouldn’t let the public vote for anything, least of all a government.

The best-selling items on the Lakeland website this week are those electric heated throws you plug in and wrap up inside to watch television or just keep warm on cold winter nights. The StaySnug Sherpa Heated Throw, the Dreamland Faux Fur Heated Throw, The Cosy Up Heated Throw – all flying off the shelves, and not just because they are currently reduced in price (hurry!)

It doesn’t take much imagination to conclude it is mostly worried pensioners buying them. Figuring that if they can’t afford to turn on their heating, these blankies are an economic way of keeping warm.

How I hate this government, coming for the oldies, slashing their fuel allowance and now threatening to take away travel concessions. 

It seems deeply unfair to start reducing pensioners benefits at a time in life when they can’t increase their own incomes to make up for the loss. These are people who have, for the most part, paid into the system their whole lives. Now they are being targeted by a government that has increased its overseas aid but doesn’t give a damn about them. Why can’t we look after our own citizens first?

You’re not really foo-ing anyone, Dave 

Whoopsy! Long-married Foo ­Fighters lead singer Dave Grohl has accidentally had a baby outside marriage. It happens. You just pop out to the shops or take the dog for a walk, and quicker than you can fight your foo, Junior has arrived.

‘I’ve recently become the father of a new baby daughter, born outside of my marriage,’ admitted Grohl in a statement. ‘I plan to be a loving and supportive parent to her. I love my wife and my children, and I am doing everything I can to regain their trust.’

I love his amusingly passive tone. Who among us has not accidentally had a baby when we weren’t ­paying attention? Grohl cheated on his first wife, he has now cheated on his second wife (above with Grohl), to whom he has been married for 21 years. The couple’s three daughters must now bear the very public emotional cost of his philandering.

To add to his sins, Grohl recently erroneously accused Taylor Swift of miming onstage during her Eras Tour. It is true what Taylor once said about someone else: ‘Trash takes itself out, every time.’  

Does anyone feel sympathy for Amber Maherloughnan who is furious that Gatwick staff didn’t spot her six-year-old son’s passport had expired? No, me neither.

When they reached Antalya Airport in Turkey where it was spotted, Amber claims the family’s passports were then ‘snatched away’ by officials. They were detained for nearly 24 hours with a ‘disgusting’ toilet to use and given little water and only a ‘rotten tomato’ and an egg that was ‘kicked’ at them. Yes, I’ve been in Turkish restaurants like that, too. The family were sent back to England the next day, their £6,000 holiday ruined. ‘I do take full responsibility,’ said Amber, who clearly does not. She said they should never have been ‘waved through’ Gatwick. If she’d checked the passports herself, none of it would have happened.

No Rayner of sunshine for landlords 

Angela Rayner seems pretty pleased with herself, getting her ­Renters’ Rights Bill off the ground so quickly. She says that renters have been ‘let down for far too long’ and in some cases that must be true; some landlords are absolute horrors.

Yet, like everything, it goes both ways. Some landlords out there are just and fair, but have been let down by non-­paying renters or those who have wrecked their properties. There is no comfort or compensation for them in Ange’s brave new Bill. They will just have to suck it up.

According to her, too many of this country’s 11 million renters live with ‘the threat of insecurity’ and ‘unfair no-fault evictions’.

I don’t know about that – an eviction is always someone’s fault. It doesn’t happen in a vacuum.

However, the real betrayal of renters rights come not from these evictions but from pressure on spaces from ­illegal migrants and asylum-seekers. This is what is having a devastating effect on the housing market for ­British citizens – but don’t expect the Labour Party to confront this crisis any time soon.

No wonder private landlords are ­taking their properties off the rental market and selling up as quickly as they can, flooding the market with empty properties that renters can’t afford to buy.

Good job, Ange. Disaster, here we come.