The Japanese monarchy has gone digital – but they could learn a thing or two from Mike Tindall

As any avid Instagram user knows, never leave anything to chance. To be successful, you must present the illusion of success, even if the most aspirational thing you did this week was buy a nine-pack of Cushelle. However basic your life may be, the photos you post must imply that it’s gilded.

For those whose lives are actually gilded, this doesn’t present a problem. Cristiano Ronaldo has no problem providing his 627 million followers with photos of his exotic holidays, while barely a day goes by without Kim Kardashian regaling her 364 million followers with details of yet another lavish party. And then there is the Japanese royal family. The oldest continuous hereditary monarchy in the world has finally gone digital, launching its first official Instagram account, 15 years after the Windsors first joined social media.

As opulent as the lives of the venerable Naruhito family may be, alas, you wouldn’t know it from the 22 desultory posts made public since the account’s launch on Monday. In 1926, when Japanese Emperor Hirohito ascended the Imperial throne, he was revered by millions as a living god. If his first Instagram post is anything to go by, his grandson Emperor Naruhito’s vibe is more David Brent than deity. Flanked by his wife, Empress Masako, and his daughter, Princess Aiko, his Imperial Highness sits on a cream sofa dressed in a navy suit and lilac tie, all three wearing rictus grins that belong firmly in the pre-iPhone age, when the photographer commanded you to say “cheese” and woe betide you if your eyes were shut. Maybe Japan’s many decades of protectionism are to blame – clearly, when you cut yourself off from the rest of the world, you miss the social media memo.

Nor does the family seem to grasp Instagram’s time-sensitivity: it might have been uploaded on April 1, but according to the brusque, businesslike caption, the photo was taken at a New Year celebration ceremony held at the palace of the Okinawa. Not that its 603,000 users are availed of the opportunity to post a comment: like Britney, comments are turned off.

If the family – the last notable royals to fully engage in the digital era – wants to engage with younger generations and increase their relevance, as is believed, they may have to try a tad harder. Even their handle, @kunaicho_jp, is disappointingly inauspicious. Nobody uses an underscore unless the name they actually wanted was already in use. It’s like finding out the King’s email address is chaz_windsor75@hotmail.com.

While no one is expecting the Imperial family to suck in their cheekbones, pull a duckface and use the halo filter, some basic eye contact would be advisable. When they’re not pictured with frozen smiles, they’re pictured looking away from the camera, shot from a distance, so that the objects surrounding them – tables, carpets – become the focus. Their most recent post, accompanied by a Story (pay rises all round, digi team), promotes the cherry blossom for which Japan is so rightly famous. It’s just a shame that all the branches in the foreground are bare. Could they not have found a more fecund, blossom-bedecked tree?

If they are looking for inspiration (or “inspo”, to use the language of social media), the Imperial family will find no shortage from their peers. Instagram is awash with accounts from major and minor royals, from the ever-smiling Danish royal family (@detdanskekongehus, one million followers) to our very own Prince and Princess of Wales (15.9 million followers – not to brag). The Swedish royal family’s account (@kungahuset, 633,000 followers) might not have reached the golden million follower mark, but what it lacks in number it makes up for in breadth of content. King Carl XVI Gustaf, 77, and his glamorous wife, Queen Silvia, 80, appear equally at home posting photos of themselves in ceremonial garb as in casual waterproof clothing. On a snowy Easter stroll in Jamtland, they looked the quintessence of the “quiet outdoors” trend in their coordinating Gore Tex nylons.

If Emperor Naruhito wants to inject some levity into his account, he could do worse than follow Mike Tindall (@mike_tindall12) – not a royal, but married to one.

During the Platinum Jubilee, the former rugby player posted a pic of himself wearing his wife Zara’s hat, in a post that garnered 32,000 likes.

While there is a certain old-world charm to Princess Aiko’s formal suits and pearls, if the young royal ever fancied experimenting with fashion, she could always look to 27-year-old Princess Olympia of Greece (@olympiagreece), a prolific Instagrammer who loves to regale her 300,000 followers with glossy selfies dressed in Saint Laurent, Burberry and Richard Quinn (all tagged, of course). Clearly, the strict protocols that prevent British royals from endorsing brands don’t exist in Greece: Princess Olympia is a brand ambassador for Bulgari.

While Queen Rania of Jordan’s feed (@queenrania, 10.2 million followers) provides a judicious mix of duty, glamour and political statement, other royal accounts are less successful. The Monegasque royal family’s account (@palaisprincierdemonaco) is somewhat stiff and staid: unsurprisingly, it has less than 100,000 followers. In a move that caused consternation among her fans, Princess Charlene of Monaco deleted her own Instagram account last August, citing a desire to give her children more privacy.

Every new digital venture has its teething problems, of course, and we’re sure the Naruhito family will soon find its stride. Before you can say “Photoshopped”, they’ll be posting gym boomerangs, mirror selfies and flat lays of their #OOTDs (ask your kids). Until then, let’s enjoy @kunaicho_jp’s retro charm. It may not be exciting, but at least it is authentic. In today’s post-truth world, authenticity is one of the most prized and elusive qualities of all.

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