Government’s public health policies are a farce. What now?

Considering the chaotic leadership shown by the DH on its public health agenda, the farcical circumstances surrounding the publishing of its new green paper come as no great surprise.

Snuck out with hours to go before Boris Johnson was today unveiled as the new Tory leader, without any accompanying press release or a hint of support from health secretary Matt Hancock, it left industry and campaigners alike bemoaning the incompetence of those supposedly tackling the obesity crisis.

If this was, as some suggest, the result of Theresa May attempting to forge a last-minute legacy, then it’s a pretty pathetic one.

And if it was an attempt by Hancock to bury nanny state policies unpopular with his mate Johnson, it didn’t work.

But aside from the unedifying handling of the paper, is there actually anything new in it? 

The vast majority of the public health policies are a rehash of old announcements, suggesting the DH either doesn’t have the resources or the vision to take these policies forward.

These include the much-reported possible extension of the sugar tax to milkshakes, which was of course in the original sugar levy announcement; plans for a ban on energy drink sales to under-16s, which have seemingly been around forever; and new salt targets, although with no reporting until 2024, action will come years later than campaigners had expected.

One new commitment shows just what a mess the department is in with its public health plans. The promise of a consultation on post-Brexit front of pack heath labelling by the end of 2019 shows just how out of touch they are.

Does government really expect companies to be looking at massive investments in new front of pack design, when we could still be lurching from the results of a no-deal Brexit in October? No deal or not, surely this will be far down the list of priorities after Brexit. Forget front of pack labels – what about tariffs, trading agreements and securing supply chains, let alone the hugely complicated labelling changes already required by leaving the EU?

The document also poses huge questions over the voluntary reformulation programme set in motion by May in her original obesity plan, back in 2016.

With a new update on sugar reduction still not published – likewise a review of the nutrient profile and a proposed crackdown on satfats, both of which appear to have been kicked into the long grass – the green paper makes virtually no reference to the talks that have been carried out with industry.

PHE is supposed to be setting out enormous new demands on calorie reduction across major food categories, but this gets not a single word in the paper.

Meanwhile, the government promises “as soon as possible” to respond to consultations on plans for a 9pm advertising watershed, and proposals for in-store promotions, which have far greater implications than the milkshake muddle.

Why publish a green paper now, with such huge elements still undecided? Especially with the industry facing its greatest threat in decades with Brexit?

The whole document gives the impression of a government clutching at straws. This series of consultation dates might as well have been produced by a random number generator.

Of course, with Johnson in Number 10, anything could happen. This is the man who as Mayor of London brought in his own sugar tax, and who just a few weeks ago was slamming the idea as a nanny state policy.

Will he take his spirit of “can do” to Theresa May’s ideas and give them a massive reboot, or send them straight to the shredder in a pro-business Brexit onslaught? Both scenarios look equally likely with Johnson’s self-proclaimed ‘DUDE’ strategy (deliver Brexit, unite the country, defeat Jeremy Corbyn and energise), but perhaps anything is better than this half-hearted policy dud.