You can’t argue against a computer’: has the pub quiz lost its soul?
The perfect trivia night is an elusive mix of brains, beer and banter, but are slick question-setting companies sapping the scene of its community spirit?
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Francisco Garcia
Mon 12 Jun 2023 11.00 BST
The Hooden Horse is a utilitarian new-ish build pub located in a retail park on the fringes of Margate. It can’t be many people’s idea of a destination boozer but this changes around 8pm every Wednesday, when the place is enveloped in quiz mania. Local radio presenter Mark Cridland has hosted proceedings for the past seven years. “Some weeks it’s 13 teams, or it might be 30,” he chuckles from a corner table as he runs through a last-minute checklist, tucked away from the rapidly filling room. “We have our regulars who are hardcore quizzers. They’re the ones who will let me know if I mispronounce a word.”
Every week, thousands of broadly identical scenes can be observed across the country, from the south coast to the outer fringes of the Highlands; from A-road chain pubs to the most idiosyncratic locals. These offerings range from casual to rabidly competitive. Some, such as Cridland’s, are often both. My trip to Thanet was one of several night-time visitations around the country, trying to chart the future of a very British institution. What sort of health was the pub quiz in? How did it work? And what did the apparently inexorable rise of professionalised pub quiz companies mean for a pastime more traditionally associated with homespun volunteer spirit?
The pub quiz occupies its own specific corner of the British psyche. It is, after all, almost universally regarded as an invention from these isles. Some of the most reliable pub historians trace things back to late-1950s Merseyside and Lancashire, when about 4,000 people became involved in the organised quiz leagues that sprang up from Bootle to Southport, although the Guinness Book of Records makes mention of a night in Yorkshire dating from 1946. The Liverpool Echo of 30 October 1963 carried an interview with a Mr Jack Robinson, “one of the men who has been on the Merseyside quiz scene since it started”. “It’s a jolly good way of enjoying yourself,” said Robinson, “and learning at the same time.”
Phones away, please: the rise and rise of the online pub quiz
Despite their growth, the format has broadly remained the same. Word puzzles, picture and music rounds, as well as a high-stakes “wipeout round” to close the game. Writing the questions alongside his two business partners is a painstaking process, taking about 60 hours a week between them, before being fired across to in-house verifier Rob, “who we call ‘the robot’, he’s just incredible”. The more venues they’ve accumulated, the higher the stakes: “If there’s a medical question, for instance, you might have a doctor or a nurse in the room. You have to research things so thoroughly. Of course, it has to be perfect but you can’t get too bogged down. It has to be fun as well.”
On a damp Tuesday night in mid-April, I made my way down to a pub about a mile from my local. My partner and I had been meaning to try out the quiz night for several weeks. If not quite a shock, it felt odd to be presented with the latest Inquizition offering. It was as good and evenly judged as ever, though it was hard to shake the slight feeling of deja vu and deflation. All the right questions were being asked, just in the wrong pub. The host felt unfamiliar, as did the setting. We got through it fine, though the cosiness and vaguely conspiratorial feeling of the best quizzes was missing.
This evidently wasn’t the case in Margate. I had wanted to know what kept Mark Cridland coming back, year after year. It was the buzz, although there had been changes during his time in the hot seat. “I’ve seen quite a few places bringing in the online quizzes,” he explained. It wasn’t something he felt much enthusiasm over. “People have told me that it isn’t the same as having a quizmaster. For one thing, you can’t argue against the computer.” At heart, it was a simple format, with simple joys. “People love to argue the toss over anything. It’s a little community, isn’t it? And that’s what pubs are made for.”
