If you're shouting at tea then you need to calm down, says Anthony Clavane

In Japan it’s about encouraging people to connect on a spiritual level. In China, a ceremony is a blend of Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism. In India, a tea party is a space to socialise, discuss and debate.

In modern-day Britain, it seems, it has become the latest way of telling the world you’re mad as hell and just can’t take it any more.

How has it come to this? Putting the kettle on for a brew has, traditionally, been a way of calming things down not expressing rage.

And yet, a week ago, Chancellor Rishi Sunak posted an innocuous photo of himself at a Treasury meeting next to a large bag of Yorkshire Tea – and it sent Twitter into apoplexy.

One tweeter, called Sue, thundered: “The last thing I want to do when I’m making a tea is to think about what the Tory, who was blatantly advertising your tea, paid or otherwise, will be doing to continue to grow the rich/poor gap.”

To which the company pointed out: “Sue, you’re shouting at tea.”

Howling at this particular tea brand is not a new phenomenon.

A year-and-a-half ago a Brexiteer was outraged to learn that Yorkshire Tea was not grown in God’s Own County. “****ing disgraceful,” he raged at Taylors on Twitter. “Won’t be buying from you again.”

I think everyone should calm down.

Not since the 1773 Tea Act, which prompted the Boston Tea Party and sparked a revolution across the big pond, has there been such a kerfuffle.

Presenting a radio debate with a Yorkshire accent! Whatever next? A Yorkshireman reading the news on the telly: Anthony ClavaneTrue, in the past, people have got a tad worked up about the “proper” way to make a cuppa. Should the milk go in first? How long should the tea bag be left in? Should it be poured into a pot, a mug or a cup?

And what about a sweetener? George Orwell took time off from fighting fascism and warning about the dangers of totalitarianism to denounce sugar enthusiasts.

“How can you call yourself a true tea-lover if you destroy the flavour of your tea by putting sugar in it?” he wrote. “If you sweeten it, you are no longer tasting the tea, you are merely tasting the sugar.”

Tea rage, however, has – in 2020 – reached a new level. And it’s no coincidence that the rage has been directed at our beloved county.

As always, jealousy is involved.

Two years ago, Rachel Conroy, curator at Temple Newsam, discovered a document which revealed that the mid-17th century inhabitants of the Tudor-Jacobean west Yorkshire house were among the very first people in Britain to pop the kettle on.

And in the last four decades, Yorkshire Tea has ignited a consumer revolution, metamorphosing from a regional blend into one of the country’s most successful exports, being sold as far afield as Australia and China.

The overall market for tea might be shrinking – but our no-nonsense brew is bucking the trend, overtaking its main rival, PG Tips, as the nation’s favourite cuppa.

Who could not be impressed at the way the brand has subverted the norms of celebrity advertising by giving menial roles to the likes of Sir Michael Parkinson, the Brownlee brothers and the Kaiser Chiefs in their campaigns?

Police confirm 'shouting at tea' not a crime after bizarre Yorkshire Tea Twitter spatAnd who could fail to be inspired by former Warden of the North Sean Bean giving a rousing speech about the legacy of the company’s famous brews to new staff members in the Knaresborough office?

No wonder there has been a backlash on social media. No wonder the rival brands are seething at all this free publicity for Yorkshire Tea.

No wonder West Yorkshire Police had to issue the statement: “Just to confirm, shouting at tea is not a crime.”

And no wonder Rob Hastings, a columnist with the i-paper, felt obliged to sneer: “It tastes like warmed-up sand. It’s so thick

and gravelly. It’s as if you have taken a cheese grater to a brick and added boiling water.”

I bet Mr Hastings drinks a fruit tea. Or, worse still, a trendy frothy coffee.