Strap: Both Maharashtra and Karnataka have prohibited sale of junk food inside and near schools. But curbs can only go so far if home sends a different message

A child is told at breakfast to avoid junk food, and then watches a parent sip a sugary drink in the car. She hears a teacher warn against chips, but later sees the same Miss dig into a packet in the staff room. The message is unmistakable: adults often preach restraint while practising convenience.

That contradiction sits at the heart of Maharashtra’s decision to ban the sale, advertising and free distribution of foods high in fat, sugar and salt inside schools and within 50 metres of them. The order covers 1.08 lakh schools and nearly two crore students. Karnataka, too, has banned junk food in and around schools and colleges.

Childhood obesity is rising, poor diets are becoming normal, and conditions once linked mainly with adulthood, including high blood pressure, fatty liver and abnormal glucose levels, are appearing earlier. The prevalence of overweight among children under five rose from 1.5% in 2005-06 to 3.4% in 2019-21. Among adolescents, it increased from 2.4% to 5.4% in girls and from 1.7% to 6.6% in boys. What children eat at school is, therefore, not a minor matter. Yet parents may reasonably ask whether the govt should decide what their child may eat. Is this sensible protection, or intrusive state paternalism?

In 2019, the Food Safety and Standards Authority of India proposed nationwide restrictions on unhealthy foods around schools. Govts already mandate helmets, seatbelts, vaccination, tobacco controls and safety standards. Such rules restrict choice, but prevent predictable harm. However, the issue is more complex because children are not fully independent consumers. Adults may knowingly choose an occasional indulgence, but children’s preferences are shaped by bright packaging, influencers, celebrity endorsements, peer pressure, advertising and repetition. Food companies understand a child’s attention and impulses remarkably well.

Schools already follow rules for hygiene, fire safety, medicines, tobacco-free premises and child protection. One may argue that asking them to not sell heavily marketed, nutritionally poor food is institutional responsibility, not interference in family life. Still, the problem is thinking that a ban will create healthy eaters or solve the issue. Children learn less from lectures or bans than from what they repeatedly observe. A father cannot warn his son against cola while ordering one with dinner. A mother cannot pack fruit once a week and expect it to compete with the chips at home.

In parenting, example is often the most persuasive lesson. This is called ‘modelling’ in child psychology. Parents must therefore move from policing to modelling. Keep healthier foods visible, attractive and within easy reach. Do not turn sweets, burgers or colas into rewards for good marks, sporting success or obedient behaviour. Avoid describing foods as morally ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Explain that some are everyday foods while others are occasional treats.

Let children help with shopping, read labels, compare sugar and salt, prepare simple meals and understand sensible portions. A child who participates in choosing and cooking food is more likely to develop confidence than one who is merely given instructions.

Maharashtra and Karnataka must also avoid ‘crude’ food policing. A sugary drink, an ultra-processed snack and an occasional freshly cooked vada pav are not nutritionally identical. Portion size, ingredients, frequency and the overall dietary pattern matter. Treating every food containing fat, sugar, salt or monosodium glutamate as equally harmful replaces nutritional science with administrative convenience. Rules should focus on measurable risks: excessive added sugar, sodium, trans fat, saturated fat, oversized portions and frequent sale. Schools should offer affordable, appealing alternatives rather than simply removing familiar foods. Fruit, roasted chana, idli, poha, sandwiches, curd, nuts and safe drinking water must be convenient, tasty and reasonably priced.

Besides, a vendor can move beyond the 50-metre boundary. Children may buy restricted foods on the way home and indulge in them anyway. Licensed canteens may face paperwork while unlicensed sellers continue with little scrutiny.

Last year in July, all CBSE affiliated schools were asked to display ‘sugar boards’ showing hidden sugar in common foods and drinks. But were children taught to understand them? Did parents discuss them at home? Was behaviour measured in any manner?

Bans can also distract from harder reforms. It is easier to seize chips than regulate advertising. It is cheaper to prohibit samosas than improve school meals, playgrounds, physical education, drinking water, front-of-pack warnings and nutrition literacy.

The strongest policy would combine school standards with nutrition education, parental example and tighter controls on marketing. Britain pairs school-food standards with a sugary-drinks levy. Chile combines warning labels, advertising restrictions and school rules.

The state should not control every child’s plate, but parents should not pretend that children choose food in a fair and neutral market. The answer lies between overreach and neglect. Maharashtra, Karnataka and other states need to clean up the school food environment, but the deeper task belongs to parenting. The real test is whether children choose the healthier option when both are placed before them. That requires govts to provide the right nudge, schools to offer balanced choices, and parents to stop sending mixed messages. A child who sees adults practise moderation is far more likely to learn it than one who merely reads another warning on a school wall.

END OF ARTICLE