It’s fair to say putting sugar in tea is a colonial invention, and has been debated since.

We can thank the British Empire’s colonisation of India as a precursor to putting sugar in tea. When commercial tea from British India made its way to the UK, it was brisk compared to Chinese stock, and adding milk and sugar became a way to make it palatable.

But where did the sugar come from? Prior to the 18th century, sugar’s arrival in Europe came from the Levant area and, later, Madeira and the Canary Islands off the west coast of Africa thanks to the Spanish. At this time, it was rare and expensive, thus usually restricted to the wealthier classes.

By the 16th century, Spanish interests in the Caribbean had established sugar plantations and mills in the region. The British got in on the action in the 1700s and sugar consumption skyrocketed, making the former luxury product a common ingredient.

Then, the momentum of the Industrial Revolution pushed sugar forward. Factory owners realised that offering tea instead of beer as a midday beverage improved productivity. Adding cheap calories through sugar made tea almost as nutritious as a meal. The combination of caffeine and sugar was an industrial win.

By the late 18th century, however, it was made clear that 90 per cent of the sugar enjoyed by the British public actually came from unsavoury practices. Caribbean sugar plantations were staffed by indentured labourers and slaves, so a new campaign to decouple tea and sugar began with the ‘blood sugar’ movement, including a line of teaware that promoted the abolition of slavery.

The movement didn’t campaign to remove sugar from the tea table altogether, merely swap sugar from the West Indies to that of the East Indies, where the commercial estates were not crewed by slaves. And though expressive teaware didn’t end the slave trade, it was a clear indicator that anti-slavery had steeped into the conscience of the general public.

These days, tea and sugar are culturally entwined – whether you’re adding jaggery to chai or syrup to bubble tea, condensed milk to teh tarik or a lump between your lips for a samovar sip – but I like that the teas I usually drink taste perfectly fine without it.