Diana, whatever her failings, was not into making money, or as

Hear the words of Lady Colin Campbell, spoken with the weight of remembrance and the sharpness of truth: “Diana, whatever her failings, was not into making money, or as Harry and Meghan put it, financial independence.” These words, though born in the realm of royalty and rumor, carry a lesson that reaches far beyond palaces and crowns. They speak to the soul of a world that has forgotten the difference between wealth and worth, between freedom and fame. Lady Colin, chronicler of the House of Windsor, draws a line between the old nobility of service and the new hunger for profit — between a princess who sought to give love, and her heirs who seek to own their freedom through coin.

The ancients would have understood this contrast well. In every age, the noble heart wrestles with the temptation of material power. To be financially independent is a modern virtue, yet it is not the same as being free in spirit. Princess Diana, though flawed and wounded, embodied a kind of freedom that could not be bought or sold. She sought not to enrich herself, but to touch the world with compassion. Her wealth was not in gold, but in the hearts she healed — the sick she visited, the rejected she embraced, the unloved she made seen. She moved through palaces and hospitals alike with the same grace, unshackled by the glitter that surrounded her.

In the telling of her story, there echoes the tale of Antigone, the daughter of Oedipus, who defied the laws of her king to honor what was just. Like Diana, she stood alone against power, driven by a moral fire that cared nothing for wealth or comfort. The world may judge such souls harshly, calling them reckless or tragic, yet history remembers them not for their possessions, but for their principles. Lady Colin’s words remind us that to live for wealth is to serve a fickle master, but to live for compassion is to walk in the company of the timeless.

When she speaks of Harry and Meghan’s “financial independence,” Lady Colin does not mock the desire for self-sufficiency — for all people have the right to live by their own means — but she mourns what has been lost in the pursuit. Diana’s rebellion was of the heart; theirs, of the brand. The difference is subtle yet profound. The first sought to humanize power, the second to monetize freedom. In this, Lady Colin’s words cut like a sword through the illusions of our age: that money equals liberty, that profit equals purpose. She reminds us that independence of the soul cannot be purchased, only earned through humility, courage, and truth.

Consider the story of Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher-emperor of Rome. Surrounded by unimaginable wealth, he lived simply, writing by candlelight on the vanity of riches and the strength of virtue. “A man’s worth,” he said, “is no greater than his ambitions.” How many today, in the glare of fame and fortune, forget this? Diana’s ambitions were not for empire or enterprise, but for empathy. In her quiet way, she taught the world that service is a form of sovereignty, and that the truest independence is to act from love, uncoerced by greed or glory.

There is in Lady Colin’s statement an elegy for an older kind of nobility — not the nobility of titles, but of spirit. The age of Diana was one of feeling, of connection, of the heart laid bare before the world. The age of her successors, it seems, is one of commerce — where every image is a product, every confession a transaction. Yet her memory endures, because it speaks to something the human soul cannot forget: that the greatest legacy is not measured in wealth, but in the love one leaves behind.

So remember this, O listener of the modern world: seek not financial independence at the expense of moral integrity. Freedom of the purse is hollow without freedom of the soul. Let your work serve more than your wallet; let your ambition be tempered by compassion. The world does not need more millionaires — it needs more hearts like Diana’s, who turned privilege into purpose. Lady Colin Campbell’s words are a mirror — not only for princes and princesses, but for all who chase after gain. She reminds us that in the end, no treasure is greater than the peace that comes from living not to possess, but to give.

And so, let this teaching stand: be rich not in coin, but in conscience; not in fame, but in faith; not in comfort, but in character. For true independence, as Diana once showed the world, is not freedom from others — it is freedom for others. It is the quiet strength to stand for what is right, even when the world turns its gaze elsewhere.