In Entitled, Andrew Lownie argues that the British monarchy’s culture of deference, institutional secrecy, and immense privilege created a protective shield that allowed Prince Andrew and Sarah Ferguson to evade accountability for decades. This protection operated on multiple levels: Institutional mechanisms actively suppressed scrutiny, Andrew’s lifelong lack of discipline fostered a belief that rules did not apply to him, and the royal family itself often closed ranks to protect the institution’s image, thereby enabling the couple’s misconduct to continue unchecked.

The biography opens by detailing the institutional fortress that surrounds the monarchy. Lownie explains how staff are bound by non-disclosure agreements, while “exemptions in the Freedom of Information Act and the convention that parliamentary questions are not asked about members of the Royal Family have further shielded them from any proper scrutiny” (1). 

The author highlights how these conventions ensure royal impunity from proper public investigation, creating a “curated narrative” (1) policed by lawyers and public relations teams. The Foreign Office, for instance, instructed ambassadors not to speak with Lownie and deployed exemptions to prevent the release of documents related to Andrew’s taxpayer-funded role as a trade representative. This institutional stonewalling ensured that for years, the Yorks’ actions were insulated from the consequences that would befall any ordinary public servant, allowing a narrative of service to mask a reality of self-interest and misbehavior. 

Lownie traces Andrew’s sense of entitlement to a childhood devoid of meaningful discipline. Nicknamed “Baby Grumpling” for his temper tantrums, Andrew was allegedly spoiled and rarely corrected, quickly learning he could do as he pleased. Staff found him a “bloody nuisance” (21), yet no one felt able to discipline the Queen’s favorite son. The continuation of this pattern into adulthood was illustrated during a 1984 trip to Los Angeles when Andrew turned a spray gun on reporters, splattering them with white paint. While he was forced to apologize and pay for the damage, the incident was treated as a minor misdemeanor rather than an assault, reinforcing his belief in his own impunity. Lownie argues that this ingrained arrogance, nurtured from birth, meant that Andrew consistently failed to see his actions as problematic, viewing scrutiny as an affront to his status.

When scandals became too public to ignore, the Royal Family’s primary response was often damage control aimed at preserving the institution rather than enforcing personal accountability. After the Jeffrey Epstein scandal first broke and Andrew’s connection to the convicted sex offender became public, the Queen demonstrated support for her son by awarding him the title, “Andrew Knight Grand Cross of the Order of St Michael and St George” (245). This show of solidarity sent a clear message that, within the palace walls, Andrew was still protected. Even after decades of scandals—from Sarah’s “toe-sucking” photos to Andrew’s questionable business dealings—the royal family feared that truly exiling the Yorks would risk even more damaging revelations. This dynamic created a cycle of transgression and containment, where the shield of royalty protected its most problematic members because their disgrace was deemed a threat to the monarchy itself. 

In his conclusion to Entitled, Lownie asserts that Andrew’s role in “[t]he Epstein scandal has drawn attention to the Royal Family’s lack of transparency […] and royal privilege and their apparent unwillingness to modernize” (458). The author’s declaration that King Charles’s reign “will be defined by how he deals with the ‘Andrew Problem’” (458) suggests that the monarchy’s survival may depend on its willingness to ensure the royal family becomes fully accountable for its actions.