Come on Theresa May, not even January is meant to be this dry

Like all good January detoxes, Theresa May's reshuffle was a meaningless token gesture in no way sufficient to undo the damage done

Brandon Lewis became Party chairman, in the only major(ish) news of the day (PA)

In the spirit of all respectable January detoxes, Theresa May’s efforts were the political equivalent of forty eight hours off the Malbec and a four minute wobble on the treadmill.

For several weeks, this January reshuffle, which remains in progress, has been billed as a chance to “detoxify” the Tory brand. To bring in “fresh blood”, a “new generation” of young, social media savvy Conservatives.

It began with Chris Grayling being announced as the new party chairman on Twitter, only for it to be deleted twenty seven seconds later and the job given to Brandon Lewis.

In fairness, history is likely to judge Mr Grayling’s time in the job quite favourably. The party maintained its position in the polls throughout. No major disasters occurred. So in that sense, it was by far Mr Grayling’s most accomplished performance thus far.

The problem with the January detox, even one as dry as this, is that they are themselves a confession that a certain degree of re-tox has been going on.

In Theresa May’s case, it was not merely an indulgent festive season for which she was attempting to atone, but a long eighteen month journey in which she has taken her party backwards at very high speed.

With exceptions, the minor appointments are, for the most part, yet to be made. James Cleverly becomes Deputy Chairman. Kemi Badenoch is among many new vice chairmans to be announced.

The likes of Rishi Sunak and Suella Fernandes will in all likelihood receive junior ministerial jobs on Tuesday.

But it is important to remember exactly why this detox is occurring. Since June 24th 2016, the Conservative Party has has not so much distanced itself as stampeded away from the modern metropolitan values that, like it or not, made it surprisingly electable under David Cameron.

David Cameron, by the way, did not summon the press cameras to watch him huskie-sledding across the Arctic circle for no reason. He did not compel people to “hug a hoodie” because there were no votes in it. He told his party to “stop banging on about Europe” because it was his entirely correct view that to do so would be to keep them out of government in perpetuity.

Theresa May has overseen a great leap backwards from this position of electoral advancement. Within days of becoming Prime Minister, she was flirting with the return of grammar schools. The single most read news story before the 2017 election was what appeared to be the disappearance from the manifesto of a ban on ivory sales. There was the “citizens of nowhere” conference speech, the dementia tax, and the plan to allow parliament a vote on the return of fox hunting.

These are not problems that can be remedied by the presence on the outer reaches of government of a few younger, less white faces.

They are also the problems that have turned young people away from the Conservatives in their millions, to the point where the party fears losing an entire generation, and with it its electoral prospects for a generation too.

It was this that prompted the radical shake up at the party’s central office, with the appointment of swathes of new vice chairmen, all posing for pictures outside Number 10 with Theresa May.

But young people’s problem with the Conservatives is more than an image one. It is driven by the growing view that they will never, ever get on the housing ladder. It had been suggested Theresa May might create a new department to deal with this. A Housing Secretary, of cabinet rank.

What young people got instead was some new headed notepaper. The addition of the word “Housing” to the job title of the man trying to sort the problem out, Sajid Javid. It has thus far, not been a lack of job title that has stopped Sajid Javid making meaningful progress on the housing crisis. It has been a lack of financial support from the Treasury, a state of affairs that shows no sign of changing.

He was not the only one with a new job title. Jeremy Hunt emerged from Number 10 after more than an hour, still wearing his NHS pin badge, even though he is now the Secretary of State for Health and Social Care. Some belated, enlightened joined up thinking perhaps, but for the large section of the public the very words Jeremy Hunt represent the decimation of the NHS by the Conservatives. That it now falls to him to undo the damage done by the short-lived dementia tax may not have the desired effect.

In fact, it was that policy that inadvertently baptised a phrase that is clearly not going away. Nothing has changed. Nothing has changed.