A Department for Education social media statement went viral, but not in a good way. The Department published a mock ‘apology’ celebrating the impact of its Breakfast Club initiative. Unfortunately, instead of sounding human or witty, it read as self-congratulatory and oddly patronising – and within hours, was circulating widely as an example of political comms gone wrong. As CEO of nanny company Koru Kids, I watched this with dismay for several reasons. I was saddened because the policy itself is well-evidenced and successful. Breakfast clubs are essential childcare infrastructure, and it’s great that they’ve served over 2.6 million meals. That’s something to celebrate. But the botched announcement also revealed something deeper about trust, empathy and the currently fragile relationship between families and the state. One jarring aspect of the statement was its self-congratulatory tone. The government seemed to be taking credit for outcomes actually delivered by exhausted frontline workers. Breakfast clubs have run because kitchen staff show up at dawn. Childcare works because early years educators absorb the strain every day. Attendance has improved because teachers, SENCOs and safeguarding teams grind constantly. Parents, too, commented the tone of the statement was ‘off’. One section said the Department’s policy has given parents “alarming amounts of unexpected free time”, suggesting British parents are now luxuriating in extra hours at the spa. Any parent could tell you this is absurd. Parents use childcare to keep their jobs and put food on the table. There’s nothing wrong with communications involving humour – the Met Office did it with storm names , HMRC has promoted its app using rubber duckies and musical sponges, the National Cyber Security Centre knight ‘booped’ cyber-criminals on the nose. But the humour in these cases was gentle, well-judged, and didn’t punch down. Satire only works when the audience knows you get them. That’s why your friends can take the mickey out of you, but it’s rude if strangers do – because the jokes have to rest on a base of trust. Sadly, the Department of Education just has not earned the right to joke about how hard it is to be a parent. They’ve misread the room. What’s actually happening is that life is becoming ever harder for families. Brand-new data from Buttle UK shows that 43% of young people in crisis think they might need to drop out of education to work. More than half (55%) of children say they’re sometimes too hungry to learn. 60% of parents can’t afford school shoes. 59% can’t afford uniforms. Against this backdrop, a joke about parents gaining “unexpected free time” doesn’t just misjudge the tone – it makes people wonder whether policymakers understand what life is like for most people at the moment. This matters, because we are living through a profound crisis of confidence in institutions. People reading this statement quite reasonably think, “If they don’t get it, how can we trust them to make policies in our interests?” Empathy isn’t just a layer of comms you add at the end, it needs to be an integral part of the whole process. When it’s missing, it makes you question the process itself. And that’s something that really threatens us all. Rachel Carrell is the CEO of Koru Kids. Related... As Child Poverty Soars, UK Baby Banks Brace For The Toughest Winter Yet Activities To Keep Your Kids Occupied When Off School Due To Snow Exclusive: Ministers Slammed Over 'Tone Deaf' Social Media Post Amid Soaring Child Poverty