There is a tide in the affairs of state policy, which, taken at the peak, could improve market outcomes. What began years ago as online activism over the safety of the packaged stuff we consume has rallied its way up to the top judiciary.
Activists have argued that the Food Safety and Standards Authority of India’s (FSSAI) rules for makers of food and beverages retailed in packs are too lax.
Earlier this month, the regulator had reportedly rejected the idea of bright warnings on pack fronts, saying that displays of a black-and-white table of sugar, fat and salt content would suffice.
Upfront cautions, once found impractical by the FSSAI, have the Supreme Court’s favour. The alleged duplicity of marketers has been part of the stir that led up to it. Why, rule-critics asked, do global brands vary input formulas for various markets?
Social-media chatter around what such gaps imply for our health has lately been amplified by cheers of public support for a health crackdown on eateries and dark stores in some cities.
That such rules must tighten is a rallying cry with national data behind it. India’s latest health survey flagged obesity as a risk set for a demographic bulge, with diabetes, hypertension and cardiac cases rising fast.
An upswell against ‘junk food’ finds added validity in how hard it is to keep kids off it. Even so, for the same reason that we do not ban such edibles, freedom of choice, packaging rule revisions must weigh trade-offs closely before they go into force.
One big hitch is that there is too much out there to regulate case by case, so India’s regulator can only apply broad category rules that may be harsher for some items than others. Standard pack labels that show nutritional values, especially salt, sugar and fats, can offer data on basic risks at best.
Case-wise scrutiny is rare but useful. In July, for example, the FSSAI directed makers of fizzy beverages with high caffeine not to call them ‘energy’ drinks; nor could they claim to “aid in general weakness” or say it “revitalizes body and mind.”
This was apiece with another move to stop businesses from using terms like ‘100%’ as part of their brand interface; the practice was judged as a sneaky way to make a false claim of purity in the hope its fine-print would escape notice.
That consumers are not misled is part of the regulatory agenda for good reason. But what exactly might justify a message slapped on to grab eyeballs is a separate question.
Like some other countries, India could well adopt interpretative labels: say, ‘high sugar’ marked boldly in red or ‘low fat’ in green. Given how much longer Indian pack labels often take to read than those in advanced markets, there exists a case not just for a better mix of brevity and clarity, but also for traffic- signal type health codes.
An informed market is an aim nobody argues with, but how in-your-face a warning ought to be is best calibrated by scientific studies of risk. Chewing gum with xylitol can have an ill-effect on some but not all users. Similarly, junk-food risks vary across categories, age morbidities, etc.
If India’s threshold for what justifies an invasion of a brand’s creative space—its pack-face design—is set too strictly, it could end up as market overkill. Cases of glaring caution being an absolute-must do exist.
Like cigarette packs, even if the rules now in force are arguably over-the-top. Junk food rules are nowhere near that extreme, but as they tighten, they must not slip down a slippery slope of market intervention. Let’s analyse lethality first, like a good insurer would—without invading anyone’s privacy.