Strictly Come Dancing Judges Scores Criticism
So the other night, I’m watching Strictly with a friend, and she’s practically chewing through her sofa cushion. “A seven?” she howls at the screen. “For that cha-cha? Craig R...
So the other night, I’m watching Strictly with a friend, and she’s practically chewing through her sofa cushion. “A seven?” she howls at the screen. “For that cha-cha? Craig Revel Horwood needs his eyes tested.” I nod, but secretly, I’m thinking, Was it really an eight, though? It’s a moment we all know—that sharp, irrational fury when a paddle gets raised.
That friend’s fury is the perfect entry point into a very British obsession. We love to hate the judges’ scores, almost as much as we love the dancing itself. And honestly? The criticism is always a bit of a circus, but that’s what makes it so addictive.
Let’s start with the obvious: Craig Revel Horwood, the villain we secretly adore. He’ll give a seven when everyone else hands out nines, and the internet explodes. You know the drill—Twitter becomes a battlefield of “Craig is too harsh” versus “He’s the only honest one.”
But is he really too harsh? (Pause for dramatic effect.) I’d argue he’s just playing a character, but you’d never guess it from the angry tweets. It’s like we forget that a six in week three isn’t a personal insult; it’s a way to show growth over the series. Or is it? Who knows.
Then there’s Motsi Mabuse, the queen of emotional scoring. She’ll give a ten for a routine that was mostly “good vibes” and a slight stumble. Critics say she’s too generous, but come on—don’t you want someone to hype you up like that on a bad day? I know I do.
And what about Shirley Ballas? Oh, the headmistress of technique. One week she’ll mark a couple down for a “lack of heel leads,” and the next, she’ll overlook a lift that was clearly illegal. The inconsistency drives fans bonkers. “Make up your mind, Shirley!” we scream, while ignoring that we’d probably be worse if we had to judge live TV.
The real fun starts when the leaderboard doesn’t match what we saw. Ever notice how a risky, artistic routine often gets punished? That’s the “too clever for its own good” penalty. The judges want to be wowed, but not confused. It’s a tightrope walk that drives choreographers mad.
And let’s not forget the “journey” narrative. If a contestant starts as a total potato, they can do a mediocre samba in week six and get a standing ovation. Meanwhile, the ringer who nails a perfect foxtrot gets a nine and a lecture about “performance quality.” Fair? Not even a little bit. But it’s great TV.
Strictly fans accuse judges of over-marking stars as scores are 'too
The audience is complicit in this chaos, by the way. We boo when Craig gives a four, and we cheer when Anton du Beke gives a sympathy eight. (Anton is the soft touch of the panel, and we love him for it, even if it ruins the scoring curve.)
Here’s a spicy thought: maybe the scores don’t matter as much as we think. The public vote often overrides the judges’ points anyway. So why do we get so worked up? Because it’s a ritual. The outrage is part of the show. It’s like complaining about the weather—pointless, but strangely comforting.
Remember when Darcey Bussell was on the panel? She’d give a sweet eight and then mention “the arms could be sharper.” And we’d all sigh collectively. Now she’s gone, and we still argue about her legacy. The judging panel is a revolving door of opinions, yet the complaints never change.
What I find hilarious is the way fans weaponize technique. One minute, someone is a “ballroom expert” because they took a class in 2008. The next, they’re screaming that the judges don’t understand “intent.” It’s pure, unfiltered ego, and I’m here for it.
Of course, there’s a darker side to this criticism. Sometimes, the judges do get it wrong in ways that feel personal or biased. Remember when a black contestant got a lower score for a “lack of elegance” while a white contestant got praised for the same move? Yeah, that happens. And it’s not just a fan complaint—it’s a valid, serious issue the show needs to address.
Strictly Come Dancing viewers blast 'unfair and inconsistent' judges
But on a lighter note, the best part of the scoring drama is the “without the tie” rule. Please. It’s 2026, and we’re still pretending that a tie in dance scores is a national emergency. The producers love the manufactured tension, and we eat it up like popcorn.
Side note: Have you ever noticed how the judges score themselves differently? If a contestant is a fan favorite, Craig will ease up. If it’s a ringer, he’ll be a strict schoolmaster. It’s not impartial, but it makes for a better storyline. Don’t pretend you don’t love the drama.
At the end of the day, the real criticism isn’t about the paddles. It’s about expectations. We want the judges to be perfect, but they’re just human—flawed, biased, and occasionally bribed with good lighting. (I’m kidding. Mostly.)
So the next time you yell at the TV because a contestant got a six, take a breath. Ask yourself: Would I want my own dancing judged in front of 10 million people? Probably not. But that doesn’t stop us from feeling like we could do a better job than Shirley. And maybe that’s the whole point—the joy of armchair judging. It’s a beautiful, chaotic mess, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go tweet about last night’s unfair rumba scores. Priorities, people.
