Olivia: Jackson, quick question. What do you think was the hardest part of Queen Elizabeth II's job? Jackson: Oh, easy. The constant waving. My wrist hurts just thinking about it. Or maybe having to make small talk with everyone. For seventy years. Olivia: Close. But according to Sally Bedell Smith's incredible biography, it was something far more paradoxical: being the most famous woman in the world, whose primary job was to reveal absolutely nothing about herself. Jackson: A human blank slate, but on every coin and banknote. That’s a tough gig. And this is all in Elizabeth the Queen: The Life of a Modern Monarch? Olivia: That’s the one. And Sally Bedell Smith is a real heavyweight in this space. She's a veteran journalist, a contributing editor at Vanity Fair, and this book was a massive bestseller that won the Goodreads Choice Award for history and biography the year it came out. Jackson: Right, so she’s not just guessing. She had real access. Olivia: Exactly. She spoke with dozens of the Queen's friends, family, and staff, and got access to private letters. It’s what allows her to get past the public image to the core of our first big idea today: the fundamental paradox of the woman versus the monarch.

Jackson: I can see how that would be a constant battle. How do you even maintain a sense of self when your entire life is a performance of a role? Olivia: Well, sometimes the role gets tested in the most wonderfully absurd ways. Smith tells this story about a garden party at Buckingham Palace. The Queen is doing her rounds, asking the usual, 'Have you come far?' and so on. She gets introduced to one woman, and the woman just looks at her and asks, 'And what do you do?' Jackson: No! What did she say? Olivia: That’s the best part. She was completely stumped. She later told a friend she 'had no idea what to say.' Because how do you explain a job that is, in essence, simply being? It’s not a set of tasks; it’s an identity. Jackson: Wow. That’s an existential crisis in a fascinator hat. It really shows the gap between the symbol and the person. Did that person side, the one with a real personality, ever peek through the cracks? Olivia: Oh, constantly, but only in private. And she had this incredibly sharp, dry wit. Smith recounts a time she was at a reception at St. James's Palace. The author, an American, is introduced and the Queen asks what brings her to London. Smith says her daughter is getting married. The Queen asks when. And the author replies, 'The Fourth of July.' Jackson: Oh, that’s bold. Olivia: The Queen’s eyes just twinkled, and she leaned in and said, 'Oh, that's a little dangerous!' Jackson: That’s fantastic! It’s a side of her you just never saw. But that brings up a more serious point. This book, while widely acclaimed, has been noted by some readers for being very sympathetic to the Queen, especially in contrast to its portrayal of Princess Diana, who is often depicted as emotionally unstable. Do you think this rigid separation of public duty and private emotion made it difficult for the Queen to handle someone as openly emotional as Diana? Olivia: That is the central tragedy, and Smith doesn't shy away from it. The Queen's training was all about reserve, discipline, and keeping emotions hidden. It was a survival mechanism. But it was tested long before Diana. Take the Aberfan disaster in 1966. A coal slag heap collapsed and buried a primary school, killing 116 children. It was a moment of profound national grief. Jackson: I remember reading about that. It was horrific. Olivia: And the Queen’s first instinct was to stay away. She said, 'People will be looking after me. Perhaps they’ll miss some poor child that might have been found under the wreckage.' Her focus was on the practical, on not being a distraction. But the public didn't want a practical head of state; they wanted a mother, a figure of national mourning. Jackson: They needed to see her grieve with them. Olivia: Precisely. She did eventually go, eight days later, and was deeply, visibly moved. Many say it was the first time the public saw her shed a tear. But she later admitted that her delay was her biggest regret. It was a brutal lesson that the job wasn't just about being a symbol of stability, but also a vessel for the nation's emotions. A lesson that would come back in the most dramatic way possible thirty years later.

Jackson: Okay, so she had this incredibly controlled public persona, which she had to learn to adapt. But that makes me wonder about her actual power. She couldn't make laws, she couldn't command armies. How did she do anything? This gets to your second point, right? Reigning, not ruling. Olivia: Exactly. And Winston Churchill, her first prime minister, summed it up perfectly. He said, "A great battle is lost: parliament turns out the government. A great battle is won: crowds cheer the Queen." Her power wasn't executive; it was symbolic and influential. And a huge part of that influence came from her weekly meetings with her prime ministers. Jackson: I’ve always been fascinated by those meetings. What actually happened in them? Olivia: Smith paints a fantastic picture. With Churchill, who was in his late seventies when she took the throne at twenty-five, it was like a tutorial. He was this grandfatherly figure, schooling her in the ways of statecraft. But with Margaret Thatcher, it was a completely different dynamic. Jackson: The Iron Lady. I can’t imagine those two having a cozy chat. Olivia: There was nothing cozy about it. Thatcher, the grocer's daughter, was famously deferential, always doing a deep curtsy. But in the meetings, she would lecture the Queen. She’d come in with a list of topics and just go, dominating the conversation. The Queen, who preferred a more freewheeling dialogue, reportedly found it quite draining. Jackson: So if her own Prime Minister was lecturing her, where was the influence? Olivia: It was in the long game, especially with the Commonwealth. This is where her soft power was undeniable. The perfect example is the 1979 Commonwealth meeting in Lusaka, Zambia. The issue was Rhodesia, and Thatcher was dead set against the guerrilla leaders, whom she considered terrorists, and she didn't want to impose sanctions on the white-minority government. Jackson: A real standoff. Olivia: A huge one. The Commonwealth was on the verge of splitting apart over it. Thatcher didn't even want the Queen to go, citing security risks. The Queen basically said, 'I'm going.' And once there, she worked her magic. She held private audiences with all the key African leaders. She didn't tell them what to do, but as the Canadian Prime Minister at the time said, she would 'nudge everyone in a certain direction' with her questions and her deep understanding of their positions. Jackson: So she was playing 4D chess while everyone else was playing checkers. Olivia: You could say that. She created an atmosphere where compromise was possible. By the end of the conference, Thatcher had completely reversed her position and agreed to a process that led to a free election and the creation of Zimbabwe. The Queen never said a word in public, but she was the indispensable catalyst. That was her power. It wasn't in giving orders; it was in creating the conditions for agreement.

Jackson: That’s incredible. And that kind of influence seems key to her biggest long-term project: making sure the monarchy itself survived. Which brings us to this constant tightrope walk you mentioned, between tradition and modernity. Olivia: It's the ultimate challenge for a hereditary institution. The 19th-century writer Walter Bagehot famously warned, "We must not let in daylight upon magic." The monarchy's power, he argued, relied on its mystique. But by the 1960s, the world had changed, and the Palace felt they were losing touch. Jackson: Right, this is where the famous 1969 documentary, Royal Family, comes in. We saw it dramatized in The Crown. Was it as big a deal as the show made it out to be? Olivia: It was a massive gamble. Prince Philip was the main driver behind it. He argued that if people saw them as individuals, as a family, it would be easier to accept the system. So they let cameras follow them for a year. The public saw the Queen making small talk, having a barbecue at Balmoral, decorating a Christmas tree. Jackson: Letting the daylight in. Was it a mistake? Olivia: The film was a huge hit. An estimated 350 million people watched it worldwide. It humanized them overnight. But some, like David Attenborough, who was a BBC controller at the time, were horrified. He believed it would kill the monarchy by destroying the mystique. And for a while, it seemed like a brilliant PR move. But the real test of that decision came decades later. Jackson: With Diana's death. Olivia: Exactly. When Diana died in 1997, the public's reaction was overwhelming. It was this massive, unprecedented outpouring of grief. And the royal family’s initial response was to follow tradition. They were at Balmoral, and the priority was to protect William and Harry, to grieve in private. Jackson: But the public saw it as cold. Aloof. The daylight they’d been shown in that documentary had created an expectation of humanity, and now the curtains were drawn again. Olivia: Precisely. The press was brutal. "SHOW US YOU CARE" was one headline. There was a genuine feeling that the monarchy had misread the mood of the nation and might not recover. It was Tony Blair, the new Prime Minister, who understood what was needed. He convinced the Queen to return to London and address the nation. Jackson: And that speech was a turning point. Olivia: A monumental one. She spoke not just as a Queen, but as a grandmother. She acknowledged Diana's qualities and, crucially, she acknowledged the public's pain. Then, in a move that broke centuries of protocol, she ordered the Union Jack to be flown at half-staff over Buckingham Palace. And as Diana's coffin passed the palace, the Queen, the sovereign, stood outside and bowed her head. Jackson: Chills. That one gesture must have meant everything. Olivia: It did. It was the ultimate act of letting in the daylight. She showed that the monarchy could bend, that it could feel, that it could share in the nation's grief. In that one week, she navigated the greatest threat to the monarchy in her reign by finally, and publicly, resolving the paradox that had defined her life: she showed the world the woman behind the crown.

Jackson: So it all comes back to where we started. The paradox. She spent decades building this wall of inscrutable majesty, but her survival and ultimate triumph depended on her knowing exactly when, and how, to show the woman behind it. Olivia: It's a powerful lesson in leadership, really. Smith’s book shows that true strength isn't just about being unshakeable; it's about knowing when vulnerability and humanity are the most powerful tools you have. It’s about understanding that to be a symbol for everyone, you first have to connect with them as a person. Jackson: It really makes you think about the 'public faces' we all wear in our own lives, at work or in our families, and the courage it takes to show what’s really underneath. Olivia: Absolutely. And that's the enduring legacy Sally Bedell Smith captures so brilliantly. Not just the story of a Queen, but the story of a woman mastering the most difficult balancing act in the world. Jackson: What's the most surprising thing you learned about the Queen from this book? We'd love to hear your take. Find us on our social channels and let us know. Olivia: This is Aibrary, signing off.