The Great British Bake Off isn’t meant to make people angry. It’s a show about cake and pastry and puns and pudding.
But, as Bake Off prepares to leave the BBC for good, I can’t help it. I’m really angry. And I think you should be too.
I’m angry at the people who make Bake Off, Love Productions. After working so hard for so long to create a perfect TV recipe, they went and spoiled it with one rash decision.
I’m angry at Channel 4, for continuing to pretend that nothing will change, that everything will be exactly the same when Bake Off comes to them. It won’t.
I’m angry at the BBC, for being so blasé about their “quintessentially BBC programme” that nobody checked to see if the people making it for them actually felt happy and valued.
I’m angry that every time Mel and Sue are interviewed together they’ll be asked the same questions about the last days of Bake Off. That instead of being celebrated for a show they put so much love into, they’ll be quizzed relentlessly over its demise.
I’m angry that a man whose career depends on Bake Off is now being pilloried for sticking with the show that launched him. Mary Berry was a success before Bake Off, and she will have plenty more opportunities to come. Bake Off made Paul Hollywood; whatever you think of his decision to move to Channel 4, don’t for one minute pretend to understand his motives.
I’m angry for this series of bakers, who probably spent years plucking up the courage to fill in an application form, only for their moment in the marquee to be overshadowed by this soggy bottom of a scenario.
I’m angry for next year’s bakers too, whoever they are. They’ll never get a chance to cook for Paul and Mary; they’ll never be the filling in a Mel and Sue sandwich.
I’m angry at the idiots on Twitter who’ve copied the same joke about Mary Berry and Arctic Roll 50 over and over again and never credited the original – God I hope it’s you @cloudavies…
— Claire Davies (@cloudavies) September 12, 2016
I’m angry at people who think I should get over it. That just because it’s cakes and not crime or corruption that Bake Off doesn’t still matter. Honestly, it matters that one of the very few shows on TV that people choose to sit down and enjoy together won’t be on the BBC anymore.
I’m angry that the programme which, quietly and without fuss, showed us the very best side of Britain, will never be the same again.
I’m angry that the show which helped us celebrate Nadiya and Selasi and John and Ugné and Tamal and Nancy and everyone, regardless of where they came from, what they looked like or who they loved, is going. Just when we need it most.
Most of all I’m angry that I can’t let all this go. That a show about ruddy cakes came to mean so much to so many.
But I can’t help it. I’m angry – and you should be too.