Sick note culture - the best of Britain. A stubborn sniffle? A day on the couch. Too many on a night out? A morning in the bathroom, and an afternoon nap on the couch. A pesky inquiry into your questionable conduct during a global pandemic? If you’re Downing Street’s long-term Cabinet Secretary Simon Case, an extended period of remarkably well-timed sick leave - and to think they say Downing Street is out of touch.

In defence of Case - a sentence I find myself appropriately repulsed by - he almost certainly wasn’t pulling a sickie. Of the examples given in the opening paragraph, it is likely only his case would’ve actually required a sick note to be dispensed. GPs don’t toss around exemptions from work like confetti, as anybody who has battled a fever to call their local surgery will attest. In most instances, sick notes are given to - brace yourself - the sick.

“I find it bizarre that the self-anointed party of patriotism would consider the grotty sick note a cornerstone of our culture”

Sunak’s decision to target the sick note - or as Boris Johnson blusteringly rebranded them, “fit notes” - as a pre-election policy is therefore an odd one. Personally, I find it bizarre that the self-anointed party of patriotism would consider the grotty sick note a cornerstone of our culture. I’d like to think the Prime Minister doesn’t see this nation as merely an island of lazy workers desperate to hoodwink employers out of a day’s pay - indeed, perhaps this policy says less about British culture and more about the culture of this government. Staring down an electoral drubbing, Sunak seems to believe his path to victory is to be as nasty as possible. No need for maths until eighteen to see how that falls short of salvaging his poll numbers.

Putting the cart before the horse - the horse being much-needed reform to a crumbling National Health Service - comes to mind. As a policy, Sunak’s latest brainwave would sit firmly next to tackling car theft by lining car seats with lead to make them heavier in the hopes it’ll slow down the escape of would-be burglars. A profound misdiagnosis of cause-and-effect like this is as infuriating as it is inconsistent with existing government policy - one of the few consistently-held beliefs throughout the assortment of premiers the Conservative Party has sampled over the last few years is that more disabled Brits should work. Jeremy Hunt has, in recent months, reaffirmed this belief by rejigging welfare payments to allow for some disability benefits to be retained alongside working. Any hopes of this effectively facilitating a return to work for many people living with disabilities has been dashed by a lacklustre policy that will make holding down jobs for those with chronic illnesses tougher, and add additional challenges to those with vulnerable immune systems coming to the office.

Ever the master tactician, Sunak has unnecessarily opened up another front in the culture war he consistently manages to lose in - Sunak’s barbed rhetoric on mental health will be of particular note to students who often find themselves batting away those dismissive that such a thing exists. Getting those with invisible disabilities back into the office is a key entry on Sunak’s crayon-scrawled bucket list, though doesn’t appear to have decided which angle of the policy he’s going to embarrass himself with just yet. In public, he’s flirted with scrapping personal independence payments for those with depression and anxiety altogether, a blow to those already faced with an invasive and highly-selective means test.

“Does the Prime Minister have such little faith in our ability as students to provide for the economy of tomorrow?”

Another pet plan is issuing “vouchers” as a replacement for the standard welfare payment. It is all too easy to look at a Conservative Government proposing a scheme in which they choose what you can buy, at what cost and at what vendor and mock - to invert the words of Vince Cable to a then-beleaguered Gordon Brown - the Prime Minister’s rapid transformation from Mr. Bean to Josef Stalin. The muddled ideology disguises the grim implications of such a policy - the loss of agency and financial autonomy for the disabled community to chase a handful of voters. No coherent plan to encourage those with disabilities back into work is compatible with a plan to confiscate their wallets as punishment for daring to draw upon the support the state can provide.

These desperate measures don’t bode well. What does it say about the general health of our economy that the best way Number 10 can conceive to kickstart it is to cajole the unwell into their cubicles? Does the Prime Minister have such little faith in our ability as students to provide for the economy of tomorrow that he’d rather the nation down crutches and up jackhammers? Recovering from years of gutless and short-sighted savagery to public expenditure requires focused and bold leadership, not a policy straight from the mind of a barely HR-compliant supermarket manager. Austerity served with Lemsip is not going to reverse economic decline, nor revive a party languishing in the polls.

Andy Street, sensationally deposed as West Midlands Mayor on Saturday, would not have hung on if only for being a tad more spiteful to the disabled; Keane Duncan wouldn’t have avoided defeat in Sunak’s own backyard of York and North Yorkshire if he’d forced a hospital ward to shut up, sit straight and stuff envelopes. Cruelty is not a substitute for policy, and this shoddy premier is long overdue that lesson. Let’s face it - the Prime Minister doesn’t do his job half well-enough to take issue with how the rest of us do ours.