“THE pub quiz is a uniquely British invention,” says a character in James Graham’s latest play, “Quiz”, which opens in London’s West End on March 31st. “It combines our two great loves: drinking, and being right.” Mr Graham might be on to something. A conservative estimate suggests at least 100,000 punters compete each week, making such quizzes arguably Britain’s biggest assembly rooted in conversation.

When they’re not in the pub, they’re on the sofa. “University Challenge”, “Mastermind” and “The Weakest Link” are all British formats. At its peak, 19m watched “Who Wants to be a Millionaire?” Their catchphrases are famous: Starter for ten. I’ve started so I’ll finish. But we don’t want to give you that!

Why are Britons so obsessed? The Economist sent a large reporting team to The Crown & Two Chairmen, a London pub, to find out. “The idea of going to the pub for a pint and having a test while you’re there is a very British thing,” says the quizmaster, a barber named Chris.

Mr Graham has three theories. Britons love nostalgia. They venerate fair play, which is crucial to pub-quiz discipline in an age of smartphones. And they delight in a forum where insecure people can prove themselves. “They enjoy that little moment of glory before they retreat back into their shells,” says Brian Thompson of the Merseyside Quiz League. Others love quizzing too, especially Indians. But there has only been one non-English winner of the annual World Quizzing Championship, which began in 2003.

Quiz leagues may have begun in Bootle in 1959. Yet it was not until the 1980s that quizzing took over pubs, which had traditionally been reserved for darts, billiards and serious drinking. In Mansfield, where Mr Graham grew up, pubs tried bingo and raffles first.

The watershed came in 1998, when “Who Wants to be a Millionaire?” was first screened. The format was sold to 106 countries. Until then, says Mr Graham, “Apart from the news, when you got murdered, there were very few outlets for normal people on television.” True to its title, “Millionaire” made its British production company at least £190m ($270m) in America alone.

Quizzes have also made Britons happier. Regardless of whether a team wins or loses, the panic as they grapple for the right answer and the hilarity if they get it wrong releases endorphins that promote group bonding, says Robin Dunbar, a psychologist at Oxford University. The questions also represent a “shared folk wisdom” that bind us together.

So how did your correspondents fare? They failed to name the cow in “The Magic Roundabout”, and attributed an Oscar Wilde quote to Dolly Parton. The £52 jackpot remained out of reach.