Perhaps the Prince of Wales’s Greek heritage is coming to the fore. But if plate smashing is to be a regular feature of Highgrove dinner parties, guests might appreciate some warning so that they do not look too startled when the heir to the throne begins to trash the crockery. A little gentle bouzouki music and a pudding of baklava would prepare the way.

Without such scene-setting, the risk is that witnesses to the Prince’s antics could conclude that they are watching a childish tantrum rather than an exercise in post-prandial culture. Since the perpetrator is in his mid-fifties rather than the terrible twos, this would do little to enhance his image.

The public tends not to warm to adults who behave like petulant spoilt brats, particularly when they have ambitions of being the next head of state. If Prince Charles is hurt that he was voted fourth on the list of people who should be lined up for deportation, he would do better to ponder why so many feel this way rather than vent his feelings on the china.

He might then realise that exhorting the rest of us to “buy British”, while negotiating a deal to buy not one, but four, German cars, is just the sort of behaviour guaranteed to win bonus points in an unpopularity contest. It matters not that his plea was on behalf of British farmers rather than motor manufacturers: the charge of hypocrisy was an inevitable result. Since his own business is in farming rather than automobiles, the charge is even more pointed.

But the Prince would not see it that way. He seems to believe that the public attitude towards his behaviour will be as indulgent as his lifestyle. Yet while the amazing extravagances of the Beckhams, for instance, are smiled on, the continuing revelations of life at Highgrove elicit only derision. When Posh and Becks decided to celebrate their wedding breakfast seated on elaborate thrones, we could all enjoy the joke. From real royalty, we expect better.

Prince Charles will not receive the credit he undoubtedly deserves for the remarkable achievements of The Prince’s Trust until he stops behaving like a minor potentate in Ruritania. The trust has helped hundreds of young people to find lucrative employment and the Prince has been genuinely involved in its work. But in popular perception now, he is seen only as a pampered prig, out of touch with the real world.

He may choose to believe that an Englishman’s home is his castle, and in his case this is undeniably true, but what goes on behind the drawbridge does not remain secret. It should not concern us that he demands six different kinds of honey at breakfast, as his former chef has related to the television cameras: breakfast foibles are commonplace. A plate-smashing tantrum at dinner, however, is evidence of someone who has no concern about the embarrassment his action may cause others.

An existence surrounded by bowing and scraping courtiers must foster such arrogance. It has the same effect in business, where kings of the boardroom can sometimes be so fawned upon that they forget that those who work for them deserve to be treated with courtesy and, preferably, kindness. I have never forgotten the identity of the FTSE company chairman who, as I was waiting to interview him, bawled at his underlings as if they were incompetent servants. It somewhat undermined his efforts, as he went “on the record”, to portray himself as a caring employer.

It was equally depressing to be introduced by a top accountant to the secretary he proudly boasted had worked for him for more than 30 years. Only when he had left the room did she confide that it was her birthday but in three decades her boss had never even noted that there might be such an occasion.

Temperamental showbusiness stars become used to having their every whim catered for, with dressing rooms provided with the current food fad of choice and limousines waiting at the stage door. But there are limits beyond which even a chat-show host should not tread and expect to be indulged. Michael Moore, the US star who recently brought his one-man show to London, appears to have over-stepped the mark. At odds with the theatre management, Moore apparently railed at the stage workers and everyone who crossed his path, such that the following night they had to be pacified before they would open the theatre.

An apology worked on that occasion but it is hard to imagine the Prince of Wales saying sorry to his staff or his public. He is too used to having his own way to understand why he should moderate his behaviour if he wishes to win the favour of the British public.

How can someone who is used to having his toothpaste squeezed on to his toothbrush for him learn that he is too old to throw tantrums?