The image conjured by politicians talking about “fun” depends heavily on when you became politically aware. If it was during 2020, it’s a garden party. If it’s 2009, it’s going duck house shopping, and if it’s 1994, then oranges and bin bags spring to mind.

So, when business secretary Jonathan Reynolds told The Sun, “we want more fun in town centres”, caution was the watchword. We can be reassured that our glorious leaders do know that “fun” exists – even Sir Keir Starmer enjoys the occasional curry – but it might not be what you or I would get up to. 

Before we all head down to B&Q and start raiding the refuse collection section, this is an MP we’re talking about. And yes, they get subsidised alcohol, but some points of clarity are required before the fun bubbles over. 

In this case, the trigger for all this fun Reynolds was talking about are two areas of reform. Firstly, business rates, which are the very epicentre of fun, and secondly, planning. Reynolds is keen to push something called a “hospitality zone” where, it was reported, it would be easier for venues to open late, let people dine outside and throw street parties.

This is the kind of planning reform sign writers up and down the country have been crying out for, and if students are still students, the constant removal of “hospitality zone” signs will be just the boost to employment the sector has been looking for. 

Certainly, Rachel Reeves was right in the zone when she commented on the reform, although it appeared to be the PR zone. Mere hours after the win by England at the Euros, Reeves said: “Whether it’s cheering on the Lionesses or catching up with friends, our pubs and bars are at the heart of British life.

“For too long, they’ve been stifled by clunky, outdated rules. We’re binning them – to protect pavement pints, alfresco dining and street parties – not just for the summer, but all year round. Through our Plan for Change, we’re backing small businesses and bringing good times back to the high street.”

Proof, in case it was needed, that artificial intelligence (AI) hasn’t taken everyone’s jobs just yet. There’s no way AI would have thought that sounded like our beloved chancellor. 

The new National Licensing Policy Framework will, the Department for Business & Trade said, “modernise outdated planning and licensing rules, cutting the cost, complexity, and time it takes to open and operate hospitality venues”.

The reforms would, it added: “Make it easier to convert disused shops into hospitality venues, and protect long-standing pubs, clubs and music venues from noise complaints by new developments.”

One can only assume that disused pubs will see themselves converted into used pubs under the scheme, assuming they fall within the fun zone, of course.

One passing moment of potential fun came with news of the “agent of change”, meaning developers will be responsible for soundproofing their buildings if they choose to build near existing pubs, clubs or music venues.

The idea of fun zones is not a new one, and not just because it sounds like something from a dystopian novel. Other locations around the world have noticed that their city centres have gone all quiet, in a from-gentrification-to-zombification manoeuvre. 

In California, efforts are being made to introduce legislation that authorised cities to create hospitality zones where they can opt-in to extend “last call” times for specific, permitted venues to 4am on Fridays, Saturdays and official state holidays. 

Assembly member Matt Haney said: “Tourists, downtown residents and convention planners are all looking for cities with both vibrant daytime and night-time economies. Unfortunately, many California downtowns become ghost towns after 5pm.”

He added: “You definitely don't have to be a person who goes out until 3am to understand that it can be something that can help our cities and our state. Even for those of us who prefer to be in bed by 10pm, we will benefit from giving our struggling downtowns the tools they need to recover economically and attract tourists, large conventions, and new residents.”

A key part of the California proposal is local choice. For too long, the state has taken a top down, one-size-fits all approach, and it was felt that a little bit of decentralisation would go a long way. No one knows more than local residents what is needed and what will keep them from moving away to somewhere a bit more throbbing. 

The good news for the sector in all these zones is that the role of hospitality is now being valued as more than somewhere your kids can work during the school holidays. The phrase is: “You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.”

Encouraging it back isn’t just a matter of the correct zone, or a later opening time, or telling local residents to keep their double-glazed windows shut. It’s a matter of why it closed in the first place, which wasn’t about being able to drink on the pavement or party in the street. If the government wants hospitality back, it needs to get serious about supporting it.

We knew there’d be tiers. Five years ago the big debate was around how, and when, hospitality would get back to “normal” or possibly a “new normal”. There was still a long way to go, with more lockdowns, weird restrictions and those tiers.

You might be trying to forget all that. It’s history. But extreme, unusual crises like that put us under new pressures, and the experience tells us things we need to know, that we shouldn’t forget. The need for human beings to get together and socialise, more powerful than we even imagined, was a big one, and within that, there were smaller lessons.

There was a point when, as a supposedly influential trade journalist, I was deluged by launches of ordering apps from companies I’d never heard of. In pubs and restaurants, when we were allowed out, they began to appear in the wild, with QR codes plastered about for you to point your phone at and get a menu and some sort of ordering mechanism on your screen.

Nothing too radical there, of course. JD Wetherspoon had introduced it years before. But now everyone was suddenly adopting some dodgy technology with, it seemed to me, little or no thought about whether it would work for their business.

Nevertheless, the experts told us that this was the moment when the digital revolution would transform hospitality service permanently. Crisis, as it often does, had hustled in the future. There was no turning back. 

For customers it was a frustrating time. I went from pub to pub (which is what I kind of do with myself), downloading their apps, and always got stuck at some point. In short, the bloody things never worked.

You looked for an old-fashioned human being with arms and legs and a face to help you out. Sometimes they were great, and you were able to order in the usual way. Other times the technology was a barrier. There was no way around it and, on more than one occasion, I simply got up and walked out.

We were told these were teething problems. Progress would not be halted. I felt rather isolated when I disagreed.

Yet it seems the problems persist. Industry consultant Peter Backman, in a recent briefing, tells the story of a visit to a casual dining restaurant that was trying to push customers towards digital ordering by removing printed menus from the tables. He downloaded the app, but the menu raised questions that needed answering by a human.

When he looked up, he saw other customers, who had presumably given up with the app, queueing at the bar to get served in the analogue way.

Backman speculates that this is a generational thing. Young people would have been able to work the system. The problem was that they weren’t the customers.

A good point, but I’m not sure there isn’t a deeper issue here. I can see that on a lot of casual dining occasions, when the main purpose of your mission is simply to eat and drink, digital ordering is the way forward, making service more efficient – on condition you’ve got the technology right for every customer, of course.

There are occasions, though, when it doesn’t fit, and I reckon never will. “Never” is a long time in which a lot can happen, but let’s say for as long as humans remain social beings, and I would suggest social being defines humanity. So yeah, “never” will do. I’m talking about pubs, of course, where you might just go for something to eat and drink, but what it’s really about is sociability, conviviality, the people.

More pubs are offering table service, where an app can come into play. There’s an argument that this can benefit sociability because it’s not interrupted by one of you having to keep going up to the bar. I’m fine with table service – as long as bar service is still an option.

This was much discussed during whatever pandemic tier it was that demanded customers stay in their seats. I was among those who complained that meant it was no longer a pub. You need a fluidity – and I don’t just mean with the beer. It’s the way people move about, encounter other people. The mingling.

Then there’s the staff. Contact with staff is essential. You get that with table service, I know, and again there’s the point that waiting staff might have more time to engage with customers.

But I’m worried that the current pressure of staffing costs, the national insurance debacle that, according to UK Hospitality has already lost nearly 90,000 jobs in the sector, will tempt operators into thinking there’s a digital solution.

Technology can certainly help, but it mustn’t compromise the web of micro encounters that constitute the social life of the pub, it can’t replace human interaction. That much we’ve learned.

Before having children I could not understand why anybody would choose to have a takeaway from a local restaurant when for the same money you could enjoy the experience of dining in the venue. It made for a proper night out and seemed a no-brainer. That was until we had to factor in the faff and cost of a babysitter and it was suddenly more sensible to go for the eat-at-home option. 

Now that my two children are older the takeaway option is again off the menu – they can either come with my wife and me to the restaurant or stay at home (and cook their own dinner). Funnily enough they never go for the latter option. Their decisions are also impacted by my having made it a life’s mission to teach them both to love visiting restaurants and I’m pleased to say I reckon I’ve pretty much succeeded. There has been a price to pay but it’s been worth it.

Pasta Evangelists is putting a price of £30m on the dining-in option. It has recently announced it is to invest this hefty sum on new restaurants that will be focused on providing dining rooms as it shifts the focus further away from its beginnings as a takeaway and delivery business. Half of the venues it plans to open will come from “flipping” its dark kitchens, which highlights its changing business model. 

Finn Lagun, co-founder of Pasta Evangelists, says: “If you are just doing delivery only, you can obviously only be making delivery-only cash. But if you dine in as well, you get the dine-in cash, alcohol sales and offer our events like pasta-making experiences, which are very high margin.” 

Dark kitchens and delivery-only models for restaurants have passed their peak and the major delivery firms are instead increasingly focusing their efforts on the burgeoning grocery sector and high-growth quick-commerce offerings. They have also been developing white-label solutions that are a sign they’ve had to loosen their stranglehold on the customer relationship and give some ground to the restaurants.

Against this backdrop there is a growing sense of many hospitality firms reaching a crossroads with their strategies. Do they continue with their predominantly delivery models, with modest dine-in, or do they commit to delivering a richer experience within physical premises. There is an interesting battle just commencing in the US where China-based Luckin Coffee has recently opened a unit in New York City where it is going up against Starbucks.

Luckin Coffee regards itself as a technology company and has replicated the model it has perfected in China where orders have to be made via its app and the stores are mainly for takeaway and collection, with limited (uncomfortable) seating available to visitors. In contrast, Starbucks is to close up to 90 mobile stores that have no seating and were designed for picking up mobile orders only. 

In tandem with this, Starbucks is investing $150,000 on other stores to add in comfortable seating and encourage people to enjoy the experience. In the three months to June these changes delivered a 5% year-on-year increase in visitors who stayed longer than 30 minutes. They no doubt spent more money and left with positive thoughts about Starbucks. 

The company has stated: “We’re doubling down on what customers have always loved about Starbucks – a warm and welcoming coffee house with high-quality beverages crafted by a skilled barista.” Luckin Coffee, however, will be out to prove its experience-lite model has a place in Manhattan and potentially other territories.

Back in the UK, the Costa coffee brand has recognised its future also lies in looking after customers in-store. Costa has recently enjoyed plaudits for a newly-designed Great Portland Street shop in London that opened in July. Its owners, Coca-Cola, have recognised that this business is very much weighted towards its cafés having concluded efforts to boost the Costa Express format and at-home proposition have not delivered the required revenues for the US parent company. Coca-Cola does not relish the prospect of doubling down on the Costa stores and the business now has a “for sale” sign hoisted above it.

Other hospitality businesses will also have to work out which aspect of their organisations most justifies the commitment of investment. While delivery and digital have obviously made a serious mark, and continue to impact the hospitality industry, there is evidence to suggest a growing appetite among consumers for experiences in stores and in dining rooms. It’s certainly something my children will firmly join me in vouching for.