A King Who Endorses Evil Is No King At All

The nation which spent its own treasure abolishing slavery for the first time in human history, which cannot face up to its endemic mass rape problem, is now poised to legitimise the killing of children and the elderly. There are things the English prefer out of sight, so they can be out of mind. One of them is there is no such thing as a "dignified" Boomer death, and the other is ten million British children have been poisoned, vacuumed, and sliced to death since 1967, at the hands of doctors hired by their own mothers, before they even took their first breath.

Our lawmakers are so morally disordered they are functionally unable to discern basic right from wrong. Perhaps there is logic to this: one might fear death as one knows where one is going afterwards. Evil is evil. It doesn't matter what sophistry, protestation, or academic pretence you desperately attempt to cover it in: we all know what it is; you know what it is; you're simply its handmaiden.

It you think the Monarch is the same as the rest of us, you have a rather nasty surprise awaiting you. The 1351 Treason Act makes it an offence to "compass or imagine" the death of the monarch, or to "interrupt" the line of succession. Which poses more than a moral problem for the Palace when one considers child killing and mercy killing do both.

A Constitutional Crisis In The Making

King Charles III, Supreme Governor of the Church of England and Defender of the Faith, stands poised to grant royal assent to legislation his own church condemns as mortal sin. This represents not merely constitutional awkwardness but the complete moral hollowing out of the monarchy and the final severing of Britain from its Christian foundations.

Parliament has voted to decriminalise foeticide by inserted clauses in the Crime and Policing Bill, removing criminal penalties for women who spoil pregnancies at any stage of gestation (aka "child destruction."). The amendment, passing 379-137 (from a total of 650), eliminates the application of the Offences Against the Person Act 1861 and the Infant Life (Preservation) Act 1929 to women killing their own child. Concurrently, the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill proceeds through Parliament, having passed its crucial Commons vote by the narrow margin of 314-291 (same total).

These repugnant, infamous legislative changes represent fundamental annulment of the sacred nature of human life, and they require the King's signature to achieve legal force.

Theological/Technocratic Incompatibility

The Church of England, drawing upon the Apostolic tradition and the unbroken teaching of Christianity since the Didache condemned abortion in the first century, maintains life's sanctity from conception to natural death. The 1980 General Synod resolution affirmed "the sacred character of human life from its beginning," whilst the House of Bishops has consistently opposed euthanasia as incompatible with Christian teaching on suffering, redemption, and divine sovereignty over life and death.

The deliberate ending of innocent human life, whether in utero or through foeticide, constitutes grave sin against the Fifth and Sixth Commandment. Yet the Supreme Governor of this church must now affix his signature to laws normalising and protecting what his church defines as murder.

The coronation oath, unchanged in its essential elements since 1689, requires the sovereign to "maintain the Laws of God and the true profession of the Gospel" and to "maintain and preserve inviolably the settlement of the Church of England, and the doctrine, worship, discipline, and government thereof, as by law established." These are not mere ceremonial words but solemn vows sworn before God and witnessed by the nation:

Will You to the utmost of Your power Maintaine the Laws of God the true Profession of the Gospell and the Protestant Reformed Religion Established by Law? And will You Preserve unto the Bishops and Clergy of this Realme and to the Churches committed to their Charge all such Rights and Priviledges as by Law doe or shall appertaine unto them or any of them?

Yet here we are, again, referencing the monarch's oath – being broken, again.

A Pattern of Moral Compromise

Queen Elizabeth II's reign witnessed the systematic dismantling of Britain's Christian legal customs through royal assent to increasingly anti-Christian legislation. The Abortion Act 1967, which has facilitated over ten million terminations, received royal approval despite the Church's teaching on the sanctity of unborn life. The Sexual Offences Act 1967, legalising homosexual acts, contradicted two millennia of Christian moral teaching. The Divorce Reform Act 1969 liberalised divorce in direct opposition to Christ's teaching in Matthew 19:6. The Sunday Trading Act 1994 eliminated centuries-old Sabbath protections.

Most tellingly, the Marriage (Same Sex Couples) Act 2013 required special provisions explicitly prohibiting the Church of England and Church in Wales from solemnising such unions—a legislative acknowledgement of the fundamental incompatibility between parliamentary will and Christian doctrine. Each royal signature represented another step in Britain's transformation from a confessionally Christian state to a secular technocratic polity merely tolerating Christianity as cultural heritage.

The constitutional machinery operates on the assumption of unfailing royal acquiescence. Royal assent has not been refused since Queen Anne rejected the Scottish Militia Bill in 1708, establishing a convention so strong it has calcified into perceived constitutional requirement. The Bill of Rights 1689 and the Act of Settlement 1701 established parliamentary sovereignty, theoretically extending even to requiring the monarch to sign legislation ordering their own execution—a principle articulated during debates on the regicide of Charles I. Yet these precedents emerged within a Christian constitutional framework where Parliament and Crown shared fundamental theological assumptions about natural law and divine authority.

The Radical Nature of Current Legislation

The current legislation, differently amended by Tonia Antoniazzi, Stella Creasey, and Caroline Johnson – all of whom are... mothers, while also being of extremely low attractiveness (see the competitive evolutionary science on this) – represents something qualitatively different from previous moral compromises. The abortion decriminalisation removes the last vestige of legal recognition of foetal personhood: under the amended law, a woman inducing abortion at thirty-nine weeks' gestation, destroying a fully viable infant capable of independent survival, faces no criminal sanction.

This exceeds even the permissive abortion regimes of nations like Canada and China, placing Britain among the most extreme jurisdictions globally. The medical professionals' liability remains, but the symbolic statement is unmistakable: the state no longer recognises any inherent value in unborn human life warranting criminal law protection.

The mercy killing legislation transforms the medical profession's fundamental ethos. The Hippocratic tradition, christianised through centuries of Catholic and Protestant medical ethics, positioned physicians as healers bound by the principle of non-maleficence. The British Medical Association's historical opposition to euthanasia reflected this synthesis of classical medical ethics and Christian anthropology. The proposed law does not merely permit killing but institutionalises it as the National Suicide Service, compelling taxpayer funding for procedures the Church defines as murder.

The English Are Not Liberal

Polling by Savanta ComRes indicates only sixteen percent support removing restrictions on late-term abortion, with fifty-five percent explicitly opposing decriminalisation when babies are healthy. The mercy killing bill's support has eroded dramatically as parliamentarians examine its implications, with the margin halving since initial consideration. Prime Minister Starmer's government, elected with 33.7 percent of votes cast and representing merely 20 percent of eligible voters, lacks any mandate for revolutionary social transformation.

The House of Lords, theoretically a revising chamber providing sober second thought, retains twenty-six Lords Spiritual—bishops of the Church of England sitting by virtue of their ecclesiastical office. Their presence represents the last formal institutional link between Christianity and the legislative process.

Yet their influence has proven negligible, with many bishops themselves embracing progressive theology incompatible with orthodox Christian teaching. The Lords Spiritual's failure to mount effective opposition to anti-Christian legislation reveals the established church's institutional capture by secular ideology.

Constitutional Complexities and Canon Law

The constitutional crisis extends beyond immediate legislation to fundamental questions about the nature of British governance. The Human Rights Act 1998, incorporating the European Convention on Human Rights, created new tensions with parliamentary sovereignty. The Supreme Court's increasing willingness to review legislation on rights grounds, demonstrated in cases like R (UNISON) v Lord Chancellor [2017] and R (Miller) v Secretary of State for Exiting the European Union [2017], suggests evolving constitutional tensions. Yet these mechanisms have proven ineffective in protecting traditional Christian beliefs against parliamentary assault.

Canon law presents another layer of complexity: the Church of England's canons, having statutory force through the Submission of the Clergy Act 1533 and subsequent legislation, theoretically bind the Supreme Governor. Canon A 4 declares Holy Scripture contains "all things necessary to salvation," whilst Canon B 30 affirms marriage as between one man and one woman. The sovereign's coronation oath to preserve the Church's "doctrine, worship, discipline, and government" presumably includes these canonical provisions. Yet successive monarchs have signed legislation directly contradicting canon law without ecclesiastical consequence.

The Commonwealth realms sharing Charles III as head of state include nations with vastly different approaches to these moral questions. Canada's Medical Assistance in Dying regime has expanded dramatically since 2016, whilst several Caribbean realms maintain criminal prohibitions on abortion and homosexuality rooted in their Christian heritage. The Crown's ability to embody different values in different realms while maintaining coherent moral authority becomes increasingly untenable.

When The Crown Resisted

Charles I's refusal to surrender ecclesiastical prerogatives precipitated the English Civil War. James II's attempt to suspend anti-Catholic legislation through royal prerogative led to the Glorious Revolution. Queen Anne's refusal of assent to the Scottish Militia Bill, whilst constitutionally successful, occurred within a political context where monarch retained significant practical power. These precedents suggest refusing assent without political support risks constitutional crisis potentially fatal to the monarchy itself.

Yet spiritual authority transcends temporal power—a principle fundamental to Christian kingship since Constantine. The coronation service, derived from medieval ordines themselves drawing upon Old Testament kingship rituals, positions the monarch as God's anointed, not Parliament's servant. The anointing with holy oil, the investiture with royal regalia, and the benedictions invoke divine authority independent of democratic legitimacy.

When Thomas Becket resisted Henry II's encroachments on ecclesiastical liberty, when Thomas More refused Henry VIII's supremacy over the church, when the seven bishops defied James II's Declaration of Indulgence, they affirmed limits to temporal authority rooted in divine law.

Natural Law and Jurisprudential Tradition

The jurisprudential tradition of natural law, articulated by Aquinas and developed through Hooker, Blackstone, and British common law, recognises certain moral principles as foundational to legitimate government. Blackstone's Commentaries, foundational to British legal education for centuries, explicitly grounded English law in divine revelation and natural reason. The principle "lex iniusta non est lex"—an unjust law is no law at all—while philosophically contested, represents a strand of Western legal thought incompatible with unlimited parliamentary sovereignty.

The monarch acts on ministerial advice by convention, but the reserve powers—including the right to refuse assent—technically remain.

The Palace could invoke the Lascelles Principles, though originally concerning dissolution, as precedent for independent royal action in exceptional circumstances. The Fixed-term Parliaments Act 2011's repeal has restored some royal prerogative regarding dissolution, potentially providing leverage in confrontation with ministers.

A Political Knife Edge

Should Charles III refuse assent, – as he rightly should to these despicable lawmakers desiring their own notoriety – several scenarios might unfold:

• The government could resign, precipitating a constitutional crisis requiring resolution through general election or alternative government formation.
• Labour might be insane enough to attempt to abolish the monarchy through legislation, though this would require royal assent to its own abolition—a paradox highlighting the constitution's illogical foundations.
• The Supreme Court might be asked to rule on the constitutionality of refusing assent, though its jurisdiction over prerogative powers remains contested following Miller (No. 2) [2019].

Despite secularisation, British social attitudes surveys consistently show residual Christian culture and respect for traditional customs. The monarchy's approval ratings significantly exceed those of politicians.

A principled stand defending unborn life and opposing euthanasia might resonate with the "silent majority" uncomfortable with rapid social change but lacking political voice. The spectacle of Parliament attempting to force a Christian king to violate his conscience might generate sympathy transcending religious boundaries.

Justin Welby, the worst Archbishop of Canterbury in English history, demonstrated reluctance to confront parliamentary authority on moral issues. Yet forcing the Supreme Governor to sign legislation contradicting church teaching might catalyse ecclesiastical resistance. The Global Anglican Communion, particularly African provinces, might support royal refusal, internationalising the crisis.

Radical Reforms Won't Work

Distinguishing between the monarch's personal conscience and constitutional functions through regency-type arrangements might permit conscientious objection whilst preserving parliamentary sovereignty.

Alternatively, disestablishment might free both Crown and Church from contradictory obligations. Yet such reforms require the very parliamentary action precipitating the crisis.

European constitutional monarchies generally avoided such confrontations through different constitutional arrangements or social consensus. The Belgian king's temporary abdication to avoid signing abortion legislation in 1990 provides one model, though Britain lacks constitutional mechanisms for such manoeuvres. The Thai monarchy's more assertive role demonstrates possibilities but within vastly different constitutional culture.

One might argue the Coronation Oath creates justiciable obligations enforceable through judicial review, or propose the Human Rights Act's Article 9 protections for religious conscience might extend to the monarch. These theories remain untested but indicate potential legal strategies beyond simple confrontation.

A monarch explaining conscientious objection directly to subjects through social media might shift public opinion. Conversely, republican mobilisation through digital platforms could rapidly escalate crisis. The palace's media strategy would prove crucial in any confrontation.

Constitutional crisis might affect sterling, investment, and Britain's international standing. Yet moral leadership might enhance the myth of "soft power," particularly among Commonwealth realms and global Christian communities. The calculation extends beyond immediate political consequences to long-term national interest.

The Civilisational Question

The deeper civilisational question concerns whether Britain remains meaningfully Christian or poses as "post-Christian" (an absurdity if ever there was one) whilst maintaining Christian constitutional forms. The 2021 census showing Christianity below fifty percent for the first time suggests demographic transformation, yet cultural Christianity persists in national consciousness – particularly among Gen Z. The monarchy embodies this tension, simultaneously representing historic Christian identity and contemporary secular democracy.

The foeticide legislation protects actions even supporters acknowledge as tragic—the destruction of viable human life. No celebration accompanies this reform, only grim acceptance of perceived necessity. This joylessness reveals moral uncertainty beneath legislative confidence. A monarch articulating this unease might find unexpected resonance.

The mercy killing legislation presents different challenges: public support appears stronger, yet implementation difficulties in other jurisdictions—Canada's expanding criteria, Netherlands' non-voluntary euthanasia cases, Oregon's minimal psychiatric evaluation—suggest legitimate concerns. The legislation's narrow parliamentary margin and continued Lords opposition indicate political vulnerability. Royal refusal might provide cover for parliamentarians with private doubts but public positions.

A Moment For Courage

Historical parallels suggest moments of moral clarity can define national character for generations. Wilberforce's anti-slavery campaign, Churchill's wartime leadership, and Thatcher's Falklands decision demonstrated principle trumping expedience. A monarch defending fundamental values against parliamentary overreach might similarly inspire national renewal.

The legislation before the King does not represent reasonable disagreement within shared moral framework but fundamental assault on Christian understanding of human dignity.

1. The abortion decriminalisation enables foeticide.
2. The euthanasia legislation institutionalises mercy killing.

These are not peripheral issues but foundational questions about the nature of human existence and the state's relationship to life and death.

Charles III: Man Or Worm

King Charles III faces a defining choice. He can follow his mother's example, compartmentalising faith and mechanically signing whatever Parliament presents, confirming the Crown has become an expensive rubber stamp.

Or he can refuse assent, precipitating constitutional crisis but potentially catalysing national moral regeneration.

The path of comfortable apostasy leads to institutional irrelevance. The path of costly faithfulness risks everything but might recover the monarchy's purpose.

The paradox remains: by risking the throne to defend Christian principle, Charles might actually save the monarchy. An institution standing for transcendent values commands respect even from those who disagree.

One existing merely to rubber-stamp political decisions becomes superfluous. The British people, despite secularisation, retain instinctive understanding of sacred boundaries. A king who risks his crown to defend life's sanctity might find more support than Westminster expects.

The constitutional settlement assumes moral consensus no longer existing. When Parliament demands the Crown bless what the Church calls sin, the contradiction becomes unsustainable.

Either the monarchy means something or it does not. Either the coronation oath binds or it does not. Either Britain remains in any sense Christian or it does not. The moment of decision has arrived. The King must choose between the crown of temporal convenience and the crown of thorns.