Javid walks a tightrope between Blitz Spirit and apocalypse mode

‘The pandemic is far from over,” said Sajid Javid, briefly unglueing his eyes from his notes to fix the cameras with his trademark rabbit-in-headlight stare. “It remains a threat to our loved ones – and a threat to the progress we’ve made in getting our nation closer to normal life.”

The Health Minister had turned up slightly late to his evening presser. And no wonder, for he faced an uneasy tightrope walk to settle on a halfway house – somewhere between exuding complacency, and caving to the demands of opposition MPS, NHS leaders, and Twitter GPS.

“Revert to plan B!” they clamoured, ideally one involving a few small tweaks to our daily routines – mask mandates, stay-at-home orders, a liberal society relinquishing its everyday freedoms to prop up an ailing health service each winter.

So Sajid Javid was there to spur caution, and action – especially among those dallying oldies yet to take up their booster jabs, despite the campaign going strangely quiet recently. But not, perhaps, to go into full apocalypse mode – not yet at least. His message thus proved a jarring mix of carrot and stick; half Blitz Spirit, half Winter is Coming. “We won’t be implementing our plan B of contingency measures … at this point.”

The Health Secretary had a go at rallying the troops – hailing “new treatments for the immunocompromised”, “promising new developments around antivirals”. “We’ve got the jabs,” he mumbled, “we just need the arms to put them in.” (By jingo!) His attempts at stirring rhetoric were only occasionally thwarted by his wooden delivery – that of the student strong-armed into reading aloud in GCSE English, mumbling his Polonius.

Stephen Powis of NHS England had something of the Government’s partiality for three-part slogans. “Jab for Covid”, he rapped the lectern with his hand. “Jab for flu”. Tap. “Be cautious”, he finished, jabbing with both hands this time.

Dr Jenny Harries was manning the slide-deck today; though these weren’t the doom-laden graphs of yore. There were, however, dark warnings of 100,000 Covid cases a day by winter. The prospect of “enjoying Christmas with our loved ones” was dangled in front of the assembled viewers, like a dentist’s lollipop after a particularly uncomfortable tooth extraction.

“Little steps make a big difference” and give the “best possible chance in this race” smiled the Health Secretary, veering from iron fist to velvet glove. With elf ears and kindly expression he resembled a ministerial Mr Tumnus. Like Narnia before Aslan’s return, he seemed to be saying, Britain needn’t be always winter, but never Christmas.

“So get your jabs, folks, and cry freedom – until the next winter crisis, at least.”