POWDERHAM CASTLE, Devon, England — In his 20s, Charles Courtenay left the drizzly English countryside where he grew up, and moved to California.
He met his first wife in a bar in Las Vegas, and didn't tell her much about his background. He just took her home to England, about two months into dating, and drove up the driveway of his family home — a 12th century castle. Beyond the moat, there's a sign at the entrance that reads, "Long Live the Earl" — as in, Courtenay.
Because the man who learned to surf at L.A.'s Topanga Beach, and insists "just call me Charlie," is also the 19th Earl of Devon. When Courtenay's father died in 2015, he inherited the earldom through a mostly male bloodline that goes back to the Crusades. So even though Courtenay has three older sisters, he gets the title and castle.
"It was besieged twice! Once in 1450 and again in the English Civil War in the 1640s," Courtenay, now 50, explains.
The gig also comes with political power: A seat in the House of Lords, the upper chamber of the United Kingdom's Parliament — the equivalent of the U.S. Senate. Courtenay is one of 92 lords, out of more than 800 in Parliament, who inherited their seats. They're part of a feudal system that goes back to the Norman Conquest of 1066, when monarchs began doling out land in exchange for military service and counsel.
Now that system is being dismantled. This month, Parliament passed the House of Lords (Hereditary Peers) Act of 2026, which abolishes those 92 inherited seats. In a compromise, some of them will get to stay in Parliament until they die, but they won't be allowed to pass their seats down to descendants.
Many say it's about time.
"It is seemingly so wild that anybody in this day and age could inherit the right to legislate. It's quite bonkers!" says Eleanor Doughty, author of Heirs and Graces, A History of the Modern British Aristocracy. "I think people do wonder about the legitimacy of these sorts of people."
Why this system persists
Symbols of Britain's imperial past are still part of public life.
The royal family is one of the largest landowners. The king remains head of state in many former British colonies. In the House of Lords, lawmakers address each other as "noble lord" or "baroness." Judges still wear white horsehair wigs.
Doughty says it's because Britain never had its equivalent of the French Revolution. It never toppled its aristocracy, and redistributed wealth. Nobility never went out of fashion. King Charles I was beheaded in 1649, after his defeat in the English Civil War. But he was an exception, she says.
"We had our civil war, we did chop the king's head off, but we didn't get rid of his peers at all. We never go as far as France," Doughty explains. "So they've just sort of carried on."
British aristocrats still own disproportionate amounts of land, on which they collect rent. That fuels and compounds intergenerational wealth. They dominate elite private schools, and cultural institutions.
Until the 20th century, seats in the House of Lords were mostly inherited — which began to look anachronistic in a modern democracy. In 1911 and 1949, acts of parliament scaled back the lords' power. In 1958, the government introduced life peers — lords appointed by the government, rather than family lineage. And in 1999, then-Prime Minister Tony Blair was the first to target hereditary peers.
"Blair comes in and says, 'We've had enough of this, it's nonsense. We will get rid of these people because they do not serve us,'" Doughty recalls. "So they got rid of 90% of the hereditary peers."
But 92 of them remained, including the Earl of Devon.
Acknowledging patriarchy — from inside his own castle
In some ways, Courtenay is the stereotypical lord — white, male, went to Eton College and Cambridge University, and lives in a castle. But in other ways, he's different.
He's lobbied to change rules of male primogeniture to allow women — like his sisters — to inherit titles. In 2013, laws of succession were changed for the royal family. But the rest of the aristocracy still favors sons over daughters.
"The patriarchy puts up lots of barriers to its removal," Courtenay told NPR, on a tour of his castle.
After one of his ancestors, William "Kitty" Courtenay, was exiled for being gay, Courtenay has restored Kitty's portrait to prominence at Powderham Castle. He markets the castle as a venue for LGBTQ weddings now – and pop concerts. In 2016, the castle hosted a big BBC music festival featuring Coldplay, Mumford & Sons and Stormzy, among others.
Last year, Courtenay stood on the floor of the House of Lords, calling the chamber itself "gendered" and "discriminatory." The title "lord" for a lawmaker is out of touch, he said, urging parliament to "step away from the negative associations with nobility and high rank, associated with land and power."
Courtenay says he's using his privilege for social change.
"Obviously I'm a man of a certain age with a title who lives in a castle, went to private school and Cambridge University. But I've sought to break out of that stereotype," he says. "Because if you really believe in equal rights, what on earth am I doing?"
Courtenay opposed the elimination of his hereditary seat, but accepts the outcome.
"I wish I could do more, but my time is up" he says. The House of Lords "does need to be more representative."
Tweed is out, pink hair and Doc Martens are in
Among those helping to make the upper chamber more representative is its youngest member: Carmen Smith, also known as Baroness Smith of Llanfaes.
"I took my seat when I was 27. The average age of members is 71. It's a chamber of 70% men," she told NPR in an interview at her parliamentary office. "So I suppose I stand out a bit!"
She also has dyed pink hair, and wears Doc Martens.
Lords can choose the geographic place name in their title, and the "Llanfaes" in Smith's title is the name of the public housing complex where grew up, the youngest of seven in an apolitical family, in North Wales. She did not go to private school.
"When you have a lot of similar voices in the same room, you just end up doing the same old things and making the same mistakes," she says. "You're up against people who believe in tradition and will protect it to the end of their days. I have to remember I'm one of the only voices in the room that's speaking up for what the majority of the public think and believe. That's what drives me."
A 2024 poll found only one in seven Britons have a positive view of the House of Lords.
Even those like Smith who didn't inherit their seats still aren't elected. Most get appointed by the prime minister, and serve for life. Other seats are reserved for Church of England bishops.
Smith got her seat allocated through a Welsh nationalist party, Plaid Cymru. But she calls that system unfair. Don't stop at inherited seats. Reform the whole house, she says. Make them all stand for election. That's what a majority of Britons support, according to that same 2024 poll.
"I'm working to get rid of my job. I don't believe my position should exist," she says. "So I'm reforming the institution from the inside."
A timeline for more reforms
Such reform was Prime Minister Keir Starmer's campaign promise two years ago: Abolish hereditary seats, then set a mandatory retirement age of 80 for the rest of the lords, and eventually replace them altogether, with an upper chamber that's more representative of the country — all by summer 2029.
Last year, a poll showed widespread public support for reforms beyond what Starmer has proposed. For example, 71% of respondents supported restricting the number of seats in the House of Lords. There's currently no limit, and with more than 800 seats, it's already one of the largest legislative bodies in the world.
Back at his castle, the Earl of Devon still wants to be part of the conversation that follows his ouster. He's got lots of ideas: Elect seats by region or profession — maybe even through a lottery or jury duty type system, he says.
After centuries of family service in government, he says he'll lend "a little bit of longer-term memory" to that reform process.
"Because we work in generations, not five-year electoral cycles," he says. "We [hereditary lords] are, by definition, somewhat longer term."
P.S. He still gets to keep the castle.
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