On the face of it, there's not much that connects Her Majesty The Queen with the thoroughly unpleasant football manager Malky Mackay . And long may that remain so.
However, the past few days have seen both at the centre of maelstroms of indignation over what they did ''in private''. More pertinently, their different behaviours have been held up for the kind of public scrutiny that many believe is entirely unfair. And, in the case of Mackay, an impediment to his highly-paid career.
Should we judge someone's personality, beliefs and moral code on snippets of information that ought never to have been shared? If you say or do something that is private, so the argument goes, you shouldn't be castigated for any offence that may then be caused when that private act is publicised.
Yet there is something deeply uncomfortable about this fallacy of exposure. If you are in the public eye and do or say something stupid, violent, objectionable - or antisemitic - it must surely have some bearing on both your character and any subsequent punishment.
The Queen's punishment is - rightly - nothing more than a hopefully short-lived spell of public embarrassment. A grainy image taken in 1933 of a seven-year-old girl playing in the back garden and doing Uncle Bertie's bidding by lifting her arm in the air like that funny moustachioed fellow in Germany, does not an antisemite make . Edward VIII's prejudices are, as we know, a different matter and, with each revelation reminding us of the King/Duke's admiration for Adolf Hitler, we should be increasingly thankful for Wallis Simpson's notorious seduction techniques.
Fulminating columnists have proffered two arguments, both supportive of the picture's publication (it was, in fact, taken from a short film held in the Royal Family's archive, contents of which are often referred to as ''historical document'' rather than private). Either it exposes the Queen's familial Nazi past - which it doesn't, although it does remind us what an appalling individual Edward was and uncomfortably hints, perhaps, at the Queen Mother's enthusiasm for the Sieg Heil armlift. Or it alludes to the fact that while an impressionable, giggly child is entirely blameless, the aristocracy was, at the time, rife with anti-Jewish, pro-Hitler sentiment.
Undoubtedly, the private act says something pertinent about the Royal Family, the times they lived in, the naivety of those who should have known better, the fact that the revelation of Hitler's true evil was just around the corner. And, yes, about some of the Establishment's flirtation with fascism. It's good that it was published, so we can discuss it and that the Queen's ''punishment'' is pretty innocuous.
Almost as innocuous as Malky Mackay's, in fact. For those lucky enough not to follow baser elements of football, let me explain. Mackay was once the highly rated manager of Cardiff City. His career briefly imploded when disgusting texts between him and a colleague were exposed . Referring to the arrival of a new player from South Korea, they exchanged this message: ''Fkn chinkys. Fk it. There's enough dogs in Cardiff for us all to go around.'' On football agent, Phil Smith: ''Go on, fat Phil. Nothing like a Jew that sees money slipping through his fingers.'' On a list of transfer targets: ''Not many white faces amongst that lot but worth considering.'' On a player's female agent: ''I hope she's looking after your needs. I bet you'd love a bounce on her falsies.'' And on an official at another club: ''He's a snake, a gay snake. Not to be trusted''.
Quite rightly, Cardiff sacked him - though many high-profile friends in the media expressed support for what was merely a bloke engaging in some ''banter'' - and he languished in obscurity for a few months before becoming the well-remunerated manager of Wigan Athletic. He was later sacked from that job when he expertly steered them towards relegation.
The point of this story is that almost a year after the suited dinosaurs at the Football Association started investigating the text messages - a year! - they have concluded that poor old Malky should escape punishment because his overtly racist, homophobic and sexist comments weren't for public consumption. Like the Queen's Nazi salute, it was a private matter.
Except it wasn't. In a sport in which Jews, blacks, gays and women are routinely abused by chanting fans from the lowest leagues to the summit of the Premiership, the leading footballing authority in the land seems to be suggesting that one of our most high-profile managers can say what he likes as long as it's in private. That his views, comments and behaviour did not and will not have any effect on the millions of fans who follow the sport. That there is no need - or legal compulsion - to punish him.
If the FA's scandalous decision is to be taken at face value, the Queen and Mr Mackay are two peas in the same pod. Followers of Her Majesty will not be influenced to frolic in the garden by raising their arms to salute the Nazis, so let's not make a fuss of a silly jape caught on camera. And deeply impressionable followers of football will not be influenced to spout vile hatred about minorities just because someone at the top of the game did - so slap him on the wrists and sign him up for some race-relations training.
Which of course isn't true in the slightest. The Royals wield enormous influence and it's vital their behaviour and moral standards are held up for public scrutiny. And they nearly always leave us feeling enormously proud and honoured to live in this country.
Football managers, players and pundits are, sadly, just as influential. Their obscene behaviours and apparent desire to forgive each other with remarkable alacrity leave an indelible stain, blinding us to the ugly prejudices that infect the beautiful game. Personally, I find the ''yid army'' chant, for instance, deeply unsettling, especially when expressed by non-Jews.
In its rarefied world, the FA clearly feels it's unfair to judge an individual by his or her private actions. In the "real" world that the Queen inhabits, however, it's entirely right and proper.
