Prince Harry and Meghan Markle like their holiday cheer with an extra bit of virtue signaling.

The couple sent out their public Christmas card this week, featuring a montage of photos —with multiple shots of them hugging and holding hands with the good people of Nigeria during their “faux” royal tour earlier this year.

They are humanitarians here to save the world, whether the world wants them or not.

The message on the card exuded all the warmth of a Chat GPT robot, reading, “On behalf of the office of Prince Harry and Meghan, The Duke and Duchess of Sussex, Archewell Productions and Archewell Foundation, We wish you a very happy Holiday Season and a Happy New Year.” 

Despite the collection of happy photos (reportedly a more personal one was sent to friends), the haughty Sussex corporation is a failing venture. Having been given a whopping $100 million deal with Netflix — the ultimate nepo-baby trophy — the couple still can’t read a room or an audience.

Their latest offering, the docu-series “Polo,” is a resounding flop.

“This series offers audiences an unprecedented, behind-the-scenes look into the passion and determination driving some of the world’s elite polo players, revealing the grit behind the glamour,” Prince Harry has said.

Sounds great, Harry! I love sports. I love sports documentaries. I love Argentinians.

So, despite the critical savaging the series has received, I went in with an open mind. That open mind went dark about 10 minutes into the first episode when, lulled into an ambient state, I suddenly found myself studying the inside of my eyelids.

Still, I persisted. I rewound. I kept watching. But soon, “Polo” was relegated to background noise while I cooked. (At least my dinner was good.)

Sold by Netflix as “high-stakes,” the five-part “Polo” feels as low-stakes as a $2 scratch-off ticket.

It does nothing to pull viewers into this rarefied world or convince them to emotionally invest in these players’ fortunes. There is an abject failure to turn the action on the field into gripping, dramatic footage. There are no highlight reels put to music. No training montages. (And, if “Rocky” taught us anything, it’s that training montages rule.)

It is snoozefest with pretty people — but no heart.

Which, let’s be honest, is to be expected considering both Harry and Meghan were reportedly heavily involved in the editing process.

Remember when Spotify’s Bill Simmons called them “f–kin’ grifters“? Yeah.

These two are great at one thing: exploiting the royal family. Lest we forget, their big hits have been that now-legendary car-crash interview with Oprah and Harry’s scathing “Spare” memoir.

Neither of which make them knowledgeable TV producers. (Sorry, Netflix.) Or podcast hosts. (Sorry, Spotify.) Or, I predict, lifestyle entrepreneurs.

While the Invictus Games, which Harry founded, is truly a wonderful initiative, no one watched “Heart of Invictus,” the 2023 Netflix doc about it.

There was also “Live to Lead,” which profiled activists, including Greta Thunberg. Scintillating stuff. Markle’s animated series “Pearl” was axed before it saw the light of day. Her latest podcast with Lemonada seems to be as scarce as her pricey homemade jam.

Now comes a report that DOA “Polo” has put Markle’s Netflix cooking show — which is meant to be an accompaniment to her lifestyle brand, American Riviera Orchard — in jeopardy and will likely mean that the couple’s $100 million deal with the streaming giant will not be renewed.

“There won’t be another deal. There may be one-offs but that’s it,” a source said.

But Harry and Meghan won’t learn any lessons. They’re too blinded by their own good deeds to admit they don’t know what they’re doing.