Inside story of how it all went wrong at Cadburys: It has skimmed, trimmed and many say ruined the taste of its chocolate, reveals JANE FRYER. And thats not the worst by a long shot...
John Cadbury – patriarch of Britains most famous confectionery company and a doggedly good and relentlessly philanthropic example to us all – must be spinning in his grave in the village of Bournville, near Birmingham.
John Cadbury – patriarch of Britains most famous confectionery company and a doggedly good and relentlessly philanthropic example to us all – must be spinning in his grave in the village of Bournville, near Birmingham.
Because after 170 years, six monarchs, endless prime ministers, billions of gallons of milk and even a special commemorative bar to celebrate the Queens Platinum Jubilee, Cadbury is one of 100 brands and products to have lost its royal warrant.
What a come-down! Just three years ago, the Queen was tucking into her favourite Christmas box of Bournville in front of the fire in Sandringham.
Now, it seems, no one at the palace is much of a Cadbury fan and the company has just 12 months to remove all those lovely golden crowns and crests from its packaging.
So what has happened – and why? It could simply be because the King doesnt like Dairy Milk, with its new, oddly skimpy feel and, some complain, a touch of candle wax about the flavour. Or Buttons in their disappointingly smaller bags, or even Freddo, again strangely thinner than it used to be.
Rumour has it, he was never as big a fan as his late mother. Or perhaps he just prefers posher treats from Duchy Originals, a brand he set up in 1990.
Or, maybe, the stripping of the warrant has less to do with the taste of the chocolate, than the souring of what used to be a beloved British brand that, once, was as much about community, welfare and philanthropy, as it was profit.
Since 2010, when US giant Kraft (now Mondelez International) snapped up Cadbury for £11.5 billion in a hostile takeover leading to thousands of job losses, the new owner seems to have done everything in its power to strip out the goodness that generations of the Cadbury family had painstakingly piped in.
Gobbled up by a US food giant in 2010, the confectioner has thinned and skimmed its bars and, many insist, ruined the taste. No wonder, after 170 years, it has lost its royal warrant...
Cutting, squeezing and – however much people jump up and down about the war in Ukraine and accuse them of putting profits before human rights – refusing to pull out of their operations in Russia, where they have three factories, 3,000 employees and support a network of more than 10,000 farmers.
Certainly, Mondelez didnt seem to take much notice when the B4Ukraine campaigners wrote to the King before his birthday in June, urging him to stand in solidarity with Ukraine and remove the warrant.
Or heed the warning when the Swedish royal family publicly discontinued their relationship with Marabou chocolate bars after Ukraine listed Marabous parent company, Mondelez International, as a Sponsor of War.
Or listen when John Cadbury, 37 — the great-great-great grandson of his namesake, who founded the Birmingham brand in 1824 – described Mondelezs actions as disappointing and said: Cadbury has always stood for peace and corporate social responsibility, so Id say it is disappointing that Mondelez is operating in Russia.
If the original founder was somebody who was still involved, Im sure that operations within Russia probably wouldnt be something on the agenda.
Instead, Dirk Van de Put, the firms chief executive, claimed that investors do not morally care whether companies continue to do business in Russia, and insisted that no shareholders had pressured it to leave after the invasion of Ukraine. (In fairness, Cadbury was neither the only firm to be given the royal heave-ho this time, nor the only one with Russian operations.)
Who knows the real reason – other than King Charles and members of Buckingham Palaces Royal Warrant Holders Association, who have been renewing (or removing) warrants since the 15th century and, perhaps wisely, notifies companies by letter, giving no explanation.
None of it could feel further from the original ethos of a firm, set up by devout Quaker John Cadbury, often described as a pioneer of an ethical workforce and improving civil rights, who ploughed profits back into the community.
John Cadbury founded the Birmingham brand in 1824
After more than a century and a half of making chocolate in the model village of Bournville, the companys royal warrant has been removed
But, sadly, there are plenty of other reasons the Palace might have brought an end to 170 years patronage. Things have been going steadily downhill since Mondelez (then-Kraft) took over and reneged on its promise to the House of Commons Business Select Committee to keep the Bristol factory and 400 jobs going. (In a matter of days, it announced an imminent shutdown and move to a cheaper plant in Poland.)
It seems that everything has been shaved, trimmed or ditched.
From the scrapping of the company tradition of sending chocolates to Cadbury pensioners, surely a drop in the ocean, but right at the heart of the Cadbury family ethos. To the loss of chocolate coins at Christmas – which were declared not commercially effective.
To the endless shrinking of some of our favourite bars – it feels a long time since any bar contained a glass and a half of milk, or have any of its old rich, creamy taste, before US chocolatiers got their hands on it.
Next there was a ridiculous scheme to round off the edges of each chunk of Cadbury Dairy Milk to improve the mouth feel. Which, coincidentally, shaved nearly 10 per cent off the size of the bar — though not the price.
Then the Creme Egg was thinned in another cost-cutting makeover. And a recent report revealed that the size of a bag of Giant Chocolate Buttons has shrunk by nearly a third. (Here Mondelez has form. Toblerone lovers went wild when, back in 2016, the manufactures shrunk its size, but not the price.) Did they think we wouldnt notice?
Oh yes, and it goes without saying that Mondelez pays tax in Switzerland, not here in the UK.
All of which seems light years from the manner in which the early Cadbury operated in 1824, when John Cadbury set up a tea and coffee shop in Bull Street, Birmingham, and branched into cocoa, grinding the beans himself to make drinking chocolate.
Fourteen years later and with the help of an imported Dutch chocolate press – which separated the cocoa liquid from the butter – he started making high-quality solid chocolate. It impressed Buckingham Palace and won the first Royal Warrant from Queen Victoria.
The brand rapidly became market leaders and the family millionaires. Not that they were ever big on self-indulgence. As Quakers – who believe in living modestly – their preferred extravagance was investing in the community, social welfare, health, anti-slavery campaigning and generally making the world a better place.
They became the driving force behind the creation of the old age pension and the Animal Friends Society (the forerunner to the RSPCA), and invested in a host of Birminghams public amenities.
In the 1880s, appalled by living standards, they bought a farm on the banks of the River Bourn and built a factory in the country, along with hundreds of bright and airy homes to service it – all with gardens and trees and open spaces for the workers – and called it all Bournville.
Of course, the world turns and ideals shift but, even so, it is hard to square the outlook and vision of John Cadbury senior – or even John Cadbury junior, who has set up his own ethical chocolate brand, Love Cocoa – with anything we know about the brand now run by Mondelez.
Though sadly it is less hard to understand why profits are plummeting – down a third in the year ending December 2023 to £88.1 million.
Or why, after more than a century and a half, the companys royal warrant has been removed. What a crying shame for the Cadbury family.
