WILL the media muck it up for the young man who would be king or can he manage the task quite easily by himself?

If Prince William - the subject of How To Be A Prince (BBC1, Wednesday) - needed any pointers on turning press and public against you, then he probably tuned into Being Sarah Ferguson (C5, Tuesday).

Fergie is the perfect example of how not to conduct your affairs (sic) in public, yet has emerged with a personal fortune, made by ruthless marketing in the US, which rivals that of William's £8m left to him by his mother. In the BBC's second of two documentaries the main focus was bound to be marriage.

Royal biographer Penny Junor came up with the incredible claim that, thanks to the royal arranged romance fiascoes, William is now free to marry anyone he chooses... black, Catholic, divorced.

That's about as likely as the Queen including Fergie in her Christmas bash invitations. Diana's biographer Andrew Morton was nearer the mark with his verdict of she'll be white and from his own circle.

The big question remains how William and friend will cope with the newspapers commenting on every stage of their relationship, right down to the loving looks (or lack of them), dress sense and signs of cellulite? Suddenly I'm a royal expert at home.

"How tall is Prince Charles because William looks so much taller? Do you think he won't want to be king? Does he have to join one of the armed forces? And doesn't he look like his mother?" are the questions I find myself fielding from my wife. She is less appreciative of Sarah Ferguson. The former wife of Prince Andrew has attempted to distance herself from her spendthrift, boorish and lovecheat reputation by telling stories against herself to US audiences.

"My children say to me 'tell us another of the mistakes you made'," she says to massive laughter from American Weight Watchers.

"Silly bitch," said my wife as one woman started crying about meeting Fergie and another commented it was the nearest she'd ever get to royalty. No wonder there's £2.5m a year to be made from the land of George Bush. Fergie sticks strictly to charity work in the six months she spends back in Britain. So does William, as the royal observers admitted it would be impossible for him to enter the world of business. Thanks to unsteady Uncle Eddie, even the opportunity to make TV programmes seems as unlikely as Prince Philip gatecrashing the Press Ball dressed as a comedy terrorist.

His future role may lie in researching his grandmother's art collection. Hardly exciting, but it fits with the image of a young man who wanted to play polo in Argentina during his gap year and ended up being told to do good works elsewhere in South America.

The country may want him to be William the Conqueror but he faces the prospect of growing old, grey and embarrassing like his father (who is 5ft 9inches incidentally) in the long wait for succession. Can he really go another 30 years without making a mistake. Maybe he should date Fergie and get it all out of the way in one go.