How did the spelling bee become so popular?

Yo I thought it was like this only An idea that is both a throwback and a kind of transatlantic mash-up: I (a Canadian!) would hold an (American!) spelling bee in a (British!) pub. It would be like a pub quiz show, but the contestants would rely on their knowledge of esoteric words, rather than facts; on their brains alone, rather than on the collective mind of a team of “a maximum of six.” People would praise my words: “What a interesting idea! one spelling bee In a pub? How nice! Retro! Original!”

Was I… an expert? Hardly. An old-timer? Well, I had been spelling since I was about six and competing in spelling tests since elementary school, although we didn’t have spelling bees in Canada (the word bee itself is an Americanism, meaning a gathering, dating back to 1769). So when, in my early twenties, an enterprising gentleman in Toronto held a spelling bee at a local bar (not a spelling bee), pub spelling bee (you can see why mine is such an original idea), I jumped at the chance to take part in what, until then, had only been something I had experienced through television, movies and, of course, the gripping 2002 documentary about the contests. BewitchedAnd I wanted people in London to experience what I had experienced there: taking home a little red ribbon designed for children's athletics competitions.

That same week, however, came a series of ads for the online designer clothing retailer SSENSE, each of which features a precocious toddler spelling out the name of a fashion house, adorably following the procedure spelling-bee contestants use to ask for clues about the word. (The unseen host: “Your word is ‘Thom Browne.'” The impeccably and fashionably dressed child: “Can you use that in a sentence?” The host again: “I can spot a Thom Browne shorts from a mile away.”)

And in a day or two: another, longer ad, from luxury fashion house Loewe, featuring actress and comedian Aubrey Plaza as a confused spelling-bee contestant across four different decades (1971, 1986, 1995 and 2024), misspelling LOEWE in each one.

Suddenly, I felt like spelling bees weren't just in my brain, they were in the air. In vogue. Fashion and culture site Nylon wrote that “fashion loves spelling bees right now,” and Gen-Z magazine Worship She asked: “Why is fashion obsessed with spelling?”

But it couldn't have come out of nowhere. The spelling bee didn't just come out of nowhere, like fashion houses, in 2024. What had I gotten myself into without realizing it? When did the spelling bee become fashionable?

I had some theories. In the 2000s, nerd culture went mainstream: glasses, Belle and Sebastian, and cardigans became cool, Marvel and Funko Pop figures became popular, and for our sins, we received not only Big Bang Theory but Seven (SEVEN!) seasons of its spin-off prequel Young Sheldon. Which in turn gave rise to a soft, healthy aesthetic characterized by programs such as Parks and Recreation, New girl and Brooklyn nine-nine.

Combine this with the permanent anachronism of the Internet, where every decade is constantly in vogue, and it's no surprise that my search for spelling bees in pop culture has yielded results spanning Misery cartoons (1960s) The Simpsons (2000s) and Grace and Frankie (2015) A video was also posted of recent Oscar winner Emma Stone telling Seth Meyers in 2017 that while her mother keeps her Oscar, it is her first-place trophy from the fourth-grade spelling bee that takes pride of place in her apartment.

Spelling bees weren't suddenly everywhere; they were everywhere, period. With Emma Stone's approval and everything.

I explained my theories about spelling bees and their rise to popularity to Shalini Shankar, a sociocultural and linguistic anthropologist at Northwestern University in Illinois and author of Beeline: What spelling bees reveal about Gen Z's new path to successHe agrees with the nerd culture thing, but thinks the spelling bee is more ingrained in American culture, “partly because it takes place in elementary schools”—hence, he says, the popularity of phone-based digital word games like Wordle and the New York Times Spelling Bee game. She believes nostalgia keeps the contest relevant: “It has a really nostalgic place for people who participated in it as kids.”

However, Loewe and SSENSE have spread their ads all over the world. They were probably looking to capitalise on the image of spelling bees for citizens of countries that are not nostalgic for them. What about the UK, for example?

It is here that Shankar evokes the fascinating history of the spelling bee, which dates back to the 18th century but spread throughout America in the 19th century to differentiate the language of the newly independent United States from British English: “not just the spelling, but also the pronunciation, the stress and the stress of certain syllables over others,” explains Shankar.

open image in gallery

“The United States obviously felt threatened enough to need to differentiate linguistically, which coincides with the time when most of Europe was standardizing its national languages ​​and borders.” In the early 20th century, the Merriam Webster Dictionary Corporation got involved, “legitimizing and enshrining in everyday school culture its American dictionary over the Oxford English Dictionary, to ensure that it would be the arbiter of language” (which also explains why the spelling bee never became a school tradition in Canada).

Noah Webster was, according to today's Merriam-Webster website, “impressed by the inconsistencies of English spelling and the obstacles it presented to students (young and old alike) and resentful that American classrooms were filled only with British textbooks.” He not only changed words like humor and color to humour and colour, “he changed the -this in words like defending, offenseand claim to -HE; he abandoned the second silent “l” in verbs like travel and Cancel when forming the past tense; and eliminated the “k” from words like public and Music.”

It was a nationalistic effort, but Shankar says “people miss that part, fundamentally, because it’s usually performed by children.” Now, that performance — which American schools have made nostalgic and American pop culture reflects — has become part of the global cultural fabric.

I wonder if the fascination with spelling bees might be incorporated into the world's fascination with American symbols like Mickey Mouse. I like NY T-shirts or Marilyn Monroe. Given the spelling bee’s wholesome, confident image, its popularity would make particular sense at a time when America’s reality is more terrifying than ever. Spelling bees, after all, are a rare example of true meritocracy: There is no debate about right and wrong; there is only right and wrong, each as arbitrated by a standard dictionary. That’s certainly a balm, at a time when veracity (via information wars and fake news) is more in jeopardy than ever.

open image in gallery

Unfortunately, this is not the case in reality. Shankar says that social class plays a very important role in competitive spelling bees, as suggested in Bewitched“The fact that it’s run in schools gives it an egalitarian feel, but it’s not really. If you really want to compete at a national level, you have to have put a lot of time, energy and resources into training for this. It’s not just about the kid who worked the hardest; that kid probably got support that other kids who might have been successful didn’t get.”

But the symbol – of nostalgia, innocence, meritocracy, a time before our digital age – does The term persists, especially in places like the UK, where, says Shankar, “it’s obviously more of a novelty.” That’s why it works so perfectly as a symbol for luxury brands like Loewe: the “slyly elevated” nature of the spelling bee, and the fact that, in Shankar’s words, “it’s a prestigious activity, for sure,” can be communicated implicitly, but it can be masked explicitly. “When you use children, it’s just adorable.”

Behind the symbolism of spelling bees, and beneath the weight of nationalism, class, and culture, lies the real spelling bee: competitive, challenging, fun. The guy who makes it fun to get together with friends, have a pint and cheer each other on as we struggle with words like parliament, give, either triskaidekaphobia – where I was mentally planning my SPELLING BEE(R) event (insert applause for great pun here), before being rudely interrupted by the hubbub of LOEWE and SSENSE.

I ask Shankar why this bee, the pure The bee survives, and she tells me she’s wondered the same thing. “A lot of what’s trendy right now is artificial intelligence and technology,” she says. “The spelling bee is kind of nerdy, but it’s also so low-tech that I always wonder: Are people going to get bored of it? It’s anachronistic to the digital culture that everyone has embraced at this point.”

Then, she found herself at a competition, where she spoke to the father of a contestant. “I said, ‘What do you think about that? With the advent of spell check and artificial intelligence, should spelling bees become obsolete? ’ And he looked at me and said, ‘Just because we have helicopters, does that mean people don’t want to climb Everest? ’”