It sounded like a brilliant news story. The Prince of Wales has announced plans to sell off 20 per cent of the Duchy of Cornwall land to build homes, saying he will invest £500million in tackling the ‘housing and nature crisis’ befalling his kingdom.

An ostensibly worthy cause for the future monarch – especially as he promises to pump £160million into housing solutions and affordable homes.

His hobby horse is, of course, homelessness – an interest inherited from his mother Diana – just as the importance of early years in a child’s life is a passion of his wife, Catherine.

How can we possibly challenge their good intentions, given those two initiatives go hand in hand: you cannot bring up children well and safely if you are not secure in your own home?

The prince’s announcement comes as we also learn that he and Kate are paying some £300,000 rent a year on their ‘forever’ home in Windsor Great Park, Forest Lodge.

The couple still occasionally reside at Kensington Palace in London, and Anmer Hall on the Sandringham Estate in Norfolk which was a wedding gift from the late Queen.

And the majority of Prince William’s private income comes from the £20million a year he receives from his private estate, the Duchy of Cornwall property empire.

Indeed, the Waleses could not be further from being precarious tenants who are subject to the whims of a property owner – nor will they ever experience the trials and tribulations of the housing market.

Which is why I find myself questioning whether he’s the right person to be involved in this housing initiative.

Would such a privileged individual ever be able to truly understand the difficulties he wants to help others overcome, presenting himself as a housing saviour to those in the Duchy?

Unless you have been unable to buy a house, been evicted or forced to rent, you cannot possibly begin to comprehend how housing, or indeed the lack of it, affects every moment of your life.

I lost my home in 2018 and had to rent from a private landlady, and I can assure you that in the depths of my housing crisis, I woke up each morning terrified. You creep around your temporary abode, afraid to nail pictures on walls or change appliances. I was forced to draw my curtains and sit in the darkness as the landlady would peer in my window. Small repairs were never done, such as mending a gutter so water would not pour into my bathroom.

Oh, and how about installing central heating? Only when I was finally able to move out from my rented accommodation was the place redecorated. You can be seen as less than human as a renter and a financial liability as a non-property owner. It is a precarious way to live and, come on, can a prince possibly know what that is like?

During my time renting, my landlady brought around an estate agent with no notice, as she had decided to sell up. The new Renters’ Rights Act now means a rental can’t be put up for sale during the first 12 months of tenancy, but at the time no one even bothered to ask whether I minded. When I objected to having to rush home to allow a viewing, my landlady yelled: ‘I am going to Section 21 you!’ In other words, she was threatening me with eviction.

Then I got a letter saying the landlady was reclaiming the furniture for her second family home in Devon, meaning I was left sitting on the floor, and was forced to buy a sofa on credit.

William cannot possibly know how this feels: to not have your own things around you, to be at the whim of someone else when it comes to the basic appliances you need to live your life.

Our future king has never lived in the real world: never had his deposit retained because he threw out the broken fairy lights, never been kept indoors waiting when his landlady asks if she can pop round to look in her (locked) loft, and then doesn’t bother to turn up.

His intentions are, I hope, honourable, but just as doling out food in a soup kitchen for a brief photo opportunity does not cut it, so playing at being benefactor is all about optics. 

William’s concerned face does emit empathy, but until you have walked the walk, please don’t talk the talk. Yes, he visited Centre Point as a child with his mother, Diana. He slept rough for, what was it, one night in 2009?

I’d have more respect if he requisitioned the palaces and turned them into social housing. And turfed out the York princesses from their grace-and-favour London apartments. Because how many homes do these people actually need?