BY IAN REYNOLDS-YOUNG
The Liverpool Echo ran a story yesterday that begins like this, and I quote: ‘A Merseyside hospital has banned big bags of crisps and super-sized chocolate bars from its vending machines, to promote healthy eating. Fazakerley Hospital said the move was one of a number of things the trust was doing to ensure they provided healthy alternatives for its staff and patients.’
Here’s another example of the demonisation of vending. It’s as though, were it not for those infernal vending machines, those terrible commodities that can lead us into temptation would never surface in the Kingdom of the NHS.
Every time I read a story like this, I wonder if the publicity-seeking hospital in question has any idea what’s on offer elsewhere on its premises? Fazakerley being within an hour of Planet Vending, and prompted by eagle-eyed AVA CEO Jonathon Hilder, I decided to go and take a look. The first thing I saw, to my right, just inside the main entrance was a shop. It was unbranded – the sign seemed to have been removed – but therein, you can choose from quite an extensive range of products that might struggle to be considered as ‘healthy’ alternatives to anything…
Let’s see now: there were wine gums, sports mix; eclairs, lollies (not individually, mind, but by the bag); Maltesers (boxes), Kinder Eggs, fruit gums; jelly beans and – to paraphrase 77 Trombones – ‘rows and rows of the finest Haribo’s’. What’s more, from buttons, to blocks, this handy little shop has chocolate covered, too. And – to add insult to injury – most of the pack sizes on offer exceed those available in the vending machines.
Step out of the shop and across the lobby, there’s a coffee shop. (If you prefer your latte ‘skinny’, make sure you tell the barista). Fair play, though, when I approached the counter, I came face to face with some unfamiliar products that were advertised as ‘healthy’. But then, I saw a chalk-board ‘specials’ sign, placed prominently, which reminded passers by – potential customers – and yours truly, that bacon butties were also available.
Despite all of this, in the war against obesity, the hospital’s best shot is, evidently, to ban certain products from its vending machines. Well, wuppy-do.
Speaking of which, let me recap: no sooner do you pass through the door than, as a visitor, you’re hit with a double whammy of retail opportunities. (This is not an accident: placing the retail offers in the area of densest footfall is an easy decision to make). If you want to buy anything, isn’t it likely that you’ll make your purchase here?
Hmm…
Setting off into the bowels of the hospital in a random direction and clutching my bag of ‘Fruity Pops’ (forty percent extra free), eventually I came upon a bank of vending machines. Not only were the machines neither signposted nor branded, but also they were physically obscured behind a door. Look in the wrong direction and you’d miss all three of them…
Now think on: if sales of snacks in the hospital, mirror sales of snacks in the outside world, then just 4% of ‘junk’ items sold on the premises emanate from the hospitals vending machines.
Way to go, Fazakerly! You can fool some of the people some of the time, but you can’t fool all of the people all of the time.
And you know what? This latest gimmick isn’t fooling anybody.
