Charles III is a man of action (and a man of the people)
BACK in May 2007, I spent a morning at Her Majesty’s Young Offenders Institution Polmont. Of my own volition, I hasten to add. At the time, the situation behind the walls of this prison, home to around 650 young men aged between 16 and 21, was particularly bad. The previous year it had been dubbed Scotland’s most violent jail. The reoffending rate in Scotland was 64 per cent, while for those under 21, the reconviction rate within two years was 54 per cent. Something wasn’t working.
It was as much to my surprise as it was to its inmates’ that the man who had come to visit them that day – and for whom journalists like myself had been summoned – was not some bleary eyed, over-worked politician with only a vague understanding of the statistics, but His Royal Highness Prince Charles.
The now King was there to see what his charity, the Prince’s Trust, could do about rehabilitating offenders after release. It was a big ask. Many of these young men came from difficult backgrounds and had fallen easily into a life of crime.
One 18-year-old I interviewed that day who had been convicted of shoplifting had been abused by a stepfather, placed in care from the age of nine, and at 14 had tried to take his life four times in one month alone.
I confess I was sceptical not only of the Prince’s commitment, but of his ability to connect with these youths, many from some of the most deprived parts of Scotland. He was, after all, a man who famously, employed someone to put toothpaste on his own toothbrush in the mornings.
I was dead wrong. HRH swept into a room where several young men were working on a bricklaying project and immediately got down on his haunches to talk to them.
His was the sharpest of suits and the most cut glass of accents, yet I watched him connect – really connect – with these teenagers, talking to each one for several minutes at a time, showing interest, asking questions, listening intently to their answers.
It was immediately obvious to me that this wasn’t for show. This was a man who cared, deeply, and was trying to do what he could.
This week, as King Charles III travelled back to London from Aberdeen airport after a week of private mourning at Birkhall, his home on the Balmoral estate, I wonder if he peered down at Polmont, near Falkirk, as he flew over and reflected on the many changes he has attempted to implement during his long tenure as the Prince of Wales.
I wonder, too, if his time north of the Border crystalised for him just how important Scotland will be to his reign.
The King’s ties to Scotland are strong. He went to school here, has a home (a real home, not a palace) here, and runs the hugely successful business that is Dumfries House, now the second biggest employer in East Ayrshire.
But more intrinsic than that is his love of the country, imbued in him by both his mother and grandmother, and his ability to connect with its people.
In the months to come I suspect we will see more of that and find ourselves surprised at just how deep, and genuine, his Scottish bonds really are.
KING Charles, I think, is a man of action, not just words. The Prince’s Trust has done wonders in Scotland since that day in 2007. In all, it has helped more than one million people across the UK, and in the past ten years alone has returned £1.4billion in value to society through its help for young people.
While there are a number of forces at work here, it is worth noting that the reoffending rate in Scotland today is now 28.3 per cent, just more than a third of what it was 15 years ago. For those under 21 it is now 33.4 per cent.
After he’d gone, I asked one of the young men the Prince had seemed so engaged with what they’d talked about. He told me that after inquiring a little about his background, the Prince had sternly asked if he would be back in Polmont. ‘No way,’ he told him. ‘I’ll be back on the straight after this. It’s given me a lesson.’
What lessons will we learn from the new King as he settles into his role? That he has an eye for detail, I suspect, and a genuine interest in young people, particularly those on the margins of society.
And despite the refined world he inhabits, a sense that when it comes to his citizens, he really, truly cares.