As recorded in the 2006 film, The Queen, this is not the first time in recent history that the British have lost their collective wits. If the Diana hysteria now looks harmless, compared with the folly of being mesmerised, en masse, by a comedy chancer and his repellent sidekicks, the 1997 convulsions were considered alarming enough to require intensive interventions by the prime minister and finally, after “Show us you care” headlines, a soothing royal address.

“We have all been trying in our different ways to cope,” the Queen said. “It is not easy to express a sense of loss, since the initial shock is often succeeded by a mixture of other feelings: disbelief, incomprehension, anger – and concern for those who remain.” The grieving crowds were mollified and that broadcast, however awkward, has been identified as the moment the Queen exchanged rigidly observed reserve for the more Diana-like, emotionally literate, much more popular strategy, of reflecting the public mood. Tina Brown called it “the inclusive gesture”.

Before Diana’s death, Brown points out, the Queen would not have hastened to visit victims of terrorism, as she did in 2005, then delivered a unifying speech in the hospital canteen: “Yesterday’s bombings have deeply affected us all.” Equally, the pre-Diana Queen would never have engaged in James Bond play-acting, nor improvised, with her grandson, a sweet little scene about the Invictus Games.

The public’s appreciation of this fairly late-onset responsiveness was obvious in the final, relatively idyllic days of the pre-referendum era, with the palace’s 90th birthday celebrations designed to exhibit the monarch’s bond with her people. The rainy Patrons’ Lunch, for instance, with the Queen and subjects on top, participatory form, illustrated everything politicians had said earlier, in a Humble Address, about her being “a golden thread”, a cherished symbol of stability, unity, continuity, stoicism and so, rhapsodically, forth.

“As the sands of culture shift and the tides of politics ebb and flow,” oozed David Cameron, “Her Majesty has been steadfast – a rock of strength for our nation, for our Commonwealth and, on many occasions, for the whole world.” He quoted another tribute, from Prince William. “Time and again, quietly and modestly, the Queen has shown us all that we can confidently embrace the future without compromising the things that are important.”

To which one can only respond – then what is she waiting for?

If ever there was a time when the Queen-loving majority of this nation might benefit from sight of the old rock of strength, a little reassurance that complete constitutional and economic chaos, accompanied by political dereliction, is no reason to repine, a sign that not everyone who represents this country is a dolt, a rogue, or both, then this, surely, is it. To save time, her speechwriters could borrow from the Diana broadcast. “We have all been trying in our different ways to cope... initial shock is often succeeded by a mixture of other feelings: disbelief, incomprehension, anger... ”

Indeed, if there was any substance to Cameron’s claim about “the whole world”, the British would not be alone in appreciating some evidence of underlying integrity, from our full-time rock, to balance the woeful impression of a nation of Farages. Aside from impending doom, how is the pre-Diana phlegm going to look in the films that will be made about all this? Helen Mirren needs something more challenging, having already perfected these skills, than queenly frowning, pursing and gazing at majestic stags.

It’s probably too soon for something on the scale of King George to his people, in 1939: “I ask them to stand calm and firm and united in this time of trial.” Then again, the habitually urbane Ken Clarke is just one of the senior politicians recognising a “grave, grave potential crisis”. From the palace’s point of view, just a brief, quotable appearance, in which calmness, firmness and unity were resolutely projected, would confirm that the royal family, when not celebrating its anniversaries, is vital, as advertised, to national stability. The latest royal accounts having just set out the soaring cost of a top-quality constitutional monarchy.

Thanks to a brilliant deal sealed in 2011, the Queen could receive £45.6m of public money in 2017 – a 57% rise since 2012. Had it not been for the Johnson/Gove/Corbyn-authored catastrophe, more attention might have focused on these invariably rewarding documents that again confirmed, along with the high cost of running palaces, the deep aversion to public transport that seems to go with being a professional rock of strength, even when, like the young Cambridges, you’re still at the apprenticeship stage.

Prince Charles, rock in waiting, spent £150,000 on seven royal train trips, including a £33,249 northern excursion, featuring the Dales Pony Society. “We all really appreciated how much time he was able to spend with the ponies,” reported the society. The notoriously frugal Princess Anne, similarly fragile, ran up £36,880 on a charter to Nicosia; Camilla, visiting the Scottish Fiddle Orchestra, got out of bed for £12,379.

If £45.6m seems a fair price for this level of service, before any out-of-hours extras, there is still, surely, a case for an exceptional appearance, such as to dispel any suspicion that the Queen is, underneath, as thrilled as 70-30 Corbyn to have given Europe a kicking.

It was noted, as the referendum approached, that she never hinted, as she had with Scottish independence, at the outcome she favoured. No one was urged to “think very carefully”, before following Johnson’s Team Oaf into economic oblivion. Nor did the Prince of Wales, that dependable busybody and alarmist, ever venture that Brexit might be riskier to the nation’s health than “grey goo”.

Moreover, since the person who did not absolutely deny leaking the “Queen backs Brexit” story, to a Murdoch paper, was Michael Gove (at an appearance where he added: “We’d have £350m a week extra to spend”) maybe it’s time to recognise her contribution to a Leave victory. More recently, Robert Lacey disclosed, the Queen canvassed dinner guests, saying: “Give me three good reasons why Britain should be part of Europe”. The most amazing aspect of this story being, she hadn’t made her mind up? Maybe that’s why she never squashed Cameron at audiences where, as demonstrated by Helen Mirren, she exercises her Bagehottian rights to be consulted, to encourage and to warn – against, for instance, crass plebiscites that undermine representative democracy.

As for her question, you might think the obvious answer, from her perspective, was 1) Scotland 2) Northern Ireland 3) Wales. Though there is no reason, perhaps, why the UK’s disintegration should have weighed more heavily with local sycophants than it did with politicians, the media and voters. Maybe it seemed bad manners to mention it.

Show us – to paraphrase her supplicants in 1997 – you’re not like Gove. Or show us, if you prefer, that a royal rock of strength is an ornament a floundering and bankrupted nation may as well live without.