Six Life Lessons From The Great British Baking Show

Apr 12

The Great British Baking Show is adorable. Here is my quirky, psychological take on why.

1. Get a (real) hobby

Baking is a hobby. More broadly speaking, cooking is too.

Gardening, painting, sketching, writing, playing an instrument, woodworking, carving, sculpting, pottery-making, glass-blowing, singing, dancing, knitting, crocheting, quilting, photography — all of these are creative, or generative, hobbies.

There are also passive hobbies, such as reading or birdwatching; physically active hobbies, such as rock climbing or skiing; and social hobbies, such as bowling or laser tag. Some hobbies can be multiple; playing soccer, for example, is both social and physical. These are all important in their own rights, too. In fact, I believe everyone should have at least one of each kind: creative, passive, active, and social. But for the sake of this article, I’m particularly keen on the value of generative hobbies, and here’s why.

We all need to interact physically and sensually with the world around us. Without this, our brains and bodies dissociate and deteriorate.

We need to engage in activities that we enjoy doing for their own sake, regardless of monetary value or social pressures. Without this, life is dull and depressing.

We need to produce something of value, even if that value is purely subjective, transient, or small. Without this, it is difficult to have a sense of our own value, or of what is valuable.

We need to practice growing our strengths and skills. Without this, we atrophy.

We need to encounter unexpected challenges in the process of aspiring for a goal, then allow the intrinsic motivation of our inherent love of the goal to propel us into novel problem-solving. Without this, humanity stops progressing in its ingenuity, inventiveness, and conquering of frontiers.

Hobbies ground us in physical reality, where truth and beauty are found. Engaging with them well serves to regulate the ego into a healthy shape and size; a person with a hobby naturally builds self-esteem in the process, while too much hubris will quickly present humbling failures.

Hobbies alleviate boredom and even, to some degree, loneliness. They pull us out of rumination and into the present moment. Over time, focusing our present moment awareness in activities that activate the brain’s Task Positive Network, and thereby draw us out of the Default Mode Network, helps mitigate depression.

In The Great British Baking Show, amateur hobbyists come together over their love of baking. This brings us to the next lesson:

2. Seek common ground

Emphasizing commonality over difference helps build social cohesion, cooperation, and trust. It reduces defensiveness, paranoia, and xenophobia. It increases our sense of connection with those around us, gives us something to talk about, and fosters collaboration.

In The Great British Baking Show, we see people from all walks of life coming together over the one thing they all love. In a single season, people under 20 and over 70 work and play alongside each other. So do straight and gay; single, married, divorced, and widowed; black, white, and Asian; British natives and immigrants from around the globe; fit and fat; men and women; parents and child-free; rich and poor.

Differences are accepted without unnecessary emphasis or politicization. A man’s husband is mentioned as a matter-of-fact without requiring discussion of homosexuality. A woman’s showstopper cake tribute to her African ancestors is admired without delving into racial politics. Everyone is equally welcome, as long as they are there to bake, have fun, and learn from each other.

3. May the best (wo)man win

TGBBS is the purest example of meritocracy I can think of. Participants are judged on precisely one skill: baking. The contest is not a measure of one’s absolute worth as a human being, nor of their intelligence, strength, attractiveness, likability, income, or any other traits. This single-pointed focus allows each baker to devote their full attention to inventing new ideas, expanding their repertoire, refining their skills, and ultimately creating works of exquisite excellence in their passion of choice. The show rewards exactly what it claims to value, and thus incentivizes ingenuity that pushes the frontier ever forward, expanding and upgrading what we now know humanity is capable of producing in kitchen, bakery and patisserie.

A properly established meritocracy is a win for everyone. Competitors are duly and proportionately rewarded for their efforts and talents. Exemplars are pedestaled so that their peers may admire and learn from them. Meanwhile, those who are happy to simply partake, quite literally, of the fruits of the experts’ labor have the benefit of tasting some of the most delectable treats humanity has yet learned to create.

The only losers in a proper meritocracy are those whose egos are so fragile that they cannot handle the reality that others have done better than them in some regard, or bah-humbug’ing curmudgeons who don’t like nice things.

4. Know how to seek and handle criticism

Sometimes it’s painful to watch the harshness of Paul Hollywood. A baker may have spent weeks preparing, and the past four hours intensively pouring her entire life force into her own unique creations, only to be given a look of disappointment, and told that “it’s not your best work.”

In these moments, it’s important as a viewer to remember that these people signed up for this. They knew exactly what they were getting into. And they didn’t do it for money. Participants aren’t paid, though of course the show provides any equipment and ingredients they want. There’s not even a cash prize for the winner, only a cake stand and a bouquet of flowers. While participants may launch successful careers from the notoriety being a contestant gained them, it’s clear that participation is a labor of love.

So why on earth would someone subject themselves to such torture? Staying up til midnight all week perfecting a recipe, only to spend the weekend dashing hurriedly around the bake-off tent, sweat dripping, fingers sore and trembling, on the verge of panic, and all that only to face the harsh judgment of Paul and Prue?

While we can’t know for certain, it’s reasonable to assume that once again, it comes down to the love of baking. These bakers want to be handed impossible challenges, and learn from the best of the best. They see the opportunity to receive constructive criticism from world-class experts as an incredible blessing that supports their passion.

That makes sense. Anyone who is eligible to be a contestant on TGBBS has got to be among Britain’s top 1-5% of amateur bakers to start with. Their friends, family, and coworkers already love their creations, and probably don’t know or care much about how they were made. When you’re already quite good at something, it’s easy to find people who will tell you that. And if you’re content with that, then everyone is happy. This deserves its own consideration, so here we go:

There’s no reason to aspire to be better at something than you want to be. For example, I enjoy playing piano, but I don’t care to become great at it. There’s only so much effort I want to put in, and only so much constructive criticism I would want to take. (To my friend who told me to get a metronome the other night: yes, that is what I would do if I cared to get it exactly right, which I don’t.) But, piano is not my calling right now. I am a generalist; I like to be a little good at a lot of things, and I usually allow myself the freedom to stop at whatever point I lose interest or motivation. I am this way with so many of my amateur hobbies: singing, dancing, gardening, you name it — I only want to be good enough at it to have fun. The same goes for most of my intellectual pursuits — I only want to learn as much as I’m curious about; I don’t need to know everything, or push past the limits of my interest. All that being said: sometimes, it’s great to find things you are so passionate about that you want to learn everything you can, push yourself, and excel. Sometimes, this means seeking mentorship from the best of the best.

Two of my current callings are writing and detransitioner issues. Eventually, I want to be a good enough writer that people will want to read and publish my books. And I want to have enough expertise in detransitioner issues that I can train other therapists. If I had the opportunity to receive constructive criticism from one of my favorite authors, or a prolific and eloquent detransitioner advocate, I would hope that I would be able to take that criticism in the most positive spirit, and learn as much as I can from it. And there may come a point in my career at which I specifically need to seek out that kind of criticism. But it has to be from the right source, for the right reasons, at the right time.

In the Great British Baking Show, we see criticism done well. The criticism is specific: “it’s over-proved,” “it’s under-baked,” “too much ginger.” It’s from the right source: two world class baking experts. It’s for the right reasons: because contestants want to improve their skills from great to excellent. And it’s at the right time: they have chosen to sign up for the competition, and everyone understands the deadlines. So we see the right responses and results: though they may be humiliated or devastated about how a particular challenge has gone, participants will nonetheless accept the feedback with grace. Sometimes they outright agree with the judges; they know for themselves where they messed up or how they could have done better. And they celebrate one another’s successes. Which brings us to…

5. Celebrate others’ successes

Be a good, decent person. Practice grace and equanimity when possible. Respect your peers and celebrate their accomplishments. Do unto others as you would like them to do unto you. It’s pretty self-explanatory.

6. Work with what you’ve got

We get a lot further working with what we do have than complaining about what we don’t. TGBBS contestants don’t earn cash prizes, but they do have the opportunity to capitalize on their newfound publicity in other ways, such as starting their own businesses.

TGBBS contestants must also practice creativity within constraints. While the show provides them with any ingredient or baking tool they might desire, they also must adhere to tight timelines and precise parameters for each challenge. Plus, there are always the constraints of the laws of physics, weather, and other natural forces that refuse to conform to human fantasy.

A lesser person might complain about the perceived lacks: not enough money, not enough time, not enough grace for error. But the disciplined, hard-working, creative people who sign up for this kind of competition didn’t get to where they are by complaining; they got there by making the best of what life handed them. It’s that same attitude that will continue to carry them forward successfully in their future endeavors.