For all the controversy, Eat Out to Help Out was a rare thing: a government incentive that was behaviourally sharp — and actually worked. Its lessons have been forgotten. That’s a waste.
Image source: Pexels, Davide Ibiza
August 2025 marks five years since Eat Out to Help Out was launched. It offered a 50% discount on meals out, Monday to Wednesday, to revive the UK’s struggling hospitality sector.
It became a lightning rod for controversy. Critics focused on the lack of public health consultation, its possible role in fuelling a second wave, and its cost-effectiveness. Yet these debates have largely obscured something else: Eat Out to Help Out was one of the most behaviourally literate government schemes ever deployed at scale — and unusually successful in encouraging participation.
In July 2020, as the UK emerged from its first lockdown, the hospitality industry was on its knees. Over 80% of hospitality businesses had paused trading months earlier. Restaurants and pubs — often cornerstones of their communities — faced closure. Around 1.4 million workers in the sector, many of them young and on low incomes, had been furloughed. And there were growing concerns that inactivity would have lasting impacts, particularly for young people.
Recovery wasn’t guaranteed. Public confidence was fragile. Surveys suggested that many people were hesitant to return to town centres and public places. In Spain — where restrictions lifted earlier — consumer activity remained sluggish. Three weeks after reopening, out-of-home dining was only at 44% of pre-pandemic levels.
Policymakers in the UK faced a difficult prospect: if consumers hesitated, the effects could compound. Businesses might fail. Jobs might vanish, especially for younger workers.
It was in this context that Eat Out to Help Out was introduced.
Most government business support schemes struggle with low take-up. Yet in just a few weeks, 50%-65% of eligible hospitality businesses signed up. Consumers claimed nearly £850 million in discounted meals, vastly exceeding forecasts. Something worked — and worked unusually well.
EOHO: THE DEAL
Discount of up to 50% off food and drink, with a maximum discount of £10 per person per meal. Valid all-day Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday throughout August 2020.
The pandemic may be over but the need to stimulate business activity remains. It’s worth reflecting on why EOHO succeeded where many government schemes fail. The lessons span both how behavioural thinking amplified the scheme, and also the conditions within the government that allowed rare levels of innovation.
How it came together
The development process behind EOHO was unusually fast. Government schemes tend to follow a familiar rhythm: rounds of consultation, long chains of clearance. In contrast, EOHO moved from sketch to implementation in a matter of days —because of its political urgency and the atypically close collaboration between policy, operational and behavioural teams.
That was significant. EOHO didn’t start with a fixed plan and bolt behavioural ideas on later. Instead, we tackled design questions as they emerged: how would people hear about it? Would they understand it instantly? Would restaurants join in fast enough to make a difference?
Part of what made this possible was the novelty of the policy itself. EOHO was built from scratch. In my experience, this kind of blank slate dramatically improves the chances for meaningful behavioural input. When a policy already exists, there’s often limited room to challenge its assumptions or redesign its mechanics. But with EOHO, the urgency and newness created an unusually open environment: behavioural teams weren’t brought in to “nudge” at the edges — we were part of the early design process. There was no rulebook for how to “reopen” a service economy. That created a rare window where behavioural framing, fluency, and friction weren’t nice-to-haves — they were central design questions from day one.
Behavioural lessons from a moment of crisis
EOHO’s effectiveness rested on three features:
a clear diagnosis of the behaviour it aimed to shift
behavioural framing of the incentive
a simple, fast process for businesses to claim support
The last is the least eye-catching, but arguably the most significant.
i. Diagnosing the problem: breaking new habits
Beyond health concerns and financial anxiety, consumer behaviour had changed. Home cooking had surged: grocery sales rose 14%, food delivery by 23%. Many restaurants launched cook-at-home kits. Staying in had become habitual.
Environmental cues for dining out — commuting, spontaneity, social events — were also missing. The triggers for re-establishing pre-pandemic habits simply weren’t there. EOHO needed to create new cues and incentives for action.
ii. Designing the incentive for behavioural traction
Although EOHO was a financial subsidy, its success came not just from generosity but from how it was framed, named and delivered. The behavioural goals were clear: break inertia, generate early action, and encourage habit re-formation.
Framing and fluency
The 50% discount was attention-grabbing — not only because of its generosity, but because it was simple, round and easy to grasp. That matters. People are more likely to act on incentives when the numbers feel clear and manageable. Behavioural research suggests that a “third off” (33%) can often outperform a “35% discount” — even though the latter is technically more generous — because the roundness makes it easier to compute and remember. Fluency drives action.
Its name contributed, too. “Eat Out to Help Out” was catchy and subtly reframed the act of dining out as civic duty. In the uncertain summer of 2020, this gave many the social licence to return — not as selfish indulgence, but as support.
These features sound straightforward, even mundane. But how many government incentives have memorable names and strikingly clear rates?
Habit formation
The scheme allowed repeat use — a deliberate decision aligned with behavioural literature on habit formation. A single meal might be a treat. Multiple meals create routine.
Scarcity and urgency
EOHO ran for just four weeks — short enough to feel temporary, long enough to support habit re-formation. Uptake rose steadily, peaking on the final day at a 216% increase in dining compared to the previous year. A classic example of deadline-driven behaviour.
iii. Reducing friction for businesses and customers
EOHO also succeeded by removing friction — on both sides of the counter.
For customers, the discount was automatic. No codes, apps, or paperwork. That alone set it apart. Imagine if every consumer had been obliged to use a voucher. Estimates suggest fewer than 1 in 5 people redeem offers requiring extra effort.
For businesses, support was unusually fast and simple. Government schemes often involve paperwork, delays, or tax credits payable much later. EOHO provided reimbursements within five working days — a vital innovation for a sector where cashflow was king and survival a day-to-day struggle.
That speed came with trade-offs. Faster payments often mean reduced scope for fraud checks or detailed verification — in effect, the government was sacrificing some control in favour of momentum. That was a calculated risk. Crucially, HMRC could only do this because it had already built new digital infrastructure for the furlough scheme months earlier. That infrastructure — systems for rapid application processing, automated payouts, and real-time eligibility checks — made it possible to implement EOHO quickly and at scale. Without it, the policy might have remained on the drawing board.
What difference did it make?
Consumers claimed £849 million in discounts, far exceeding the £500 million estimate. Take-up rose across the month, implying both growing confidence and repeat use.We can’t know how sticky these behaviours were — further restrictions on the sector followed weeks later as students returned to schools and universities, and the second wave of Covid took hold. But usage patterns suggest high potential for habit formation.
Behavioural insights that stick
EOHO’s legacy is mixed — like any pandemic policy. There are legitimate debates about value for money, deadweight, and public health. But those shouldn’t obscure the behavioural design lessons.
The scheme worked not just because it was generous, but because it was built for real behaviour. It reduced friction, reframed the act, triggered urgency, and encouraged repetition.
As governments face persistent questions around productivity and sector-specific support, EOHO offers a rare example of behavioural design applied at pace and scale. Its quietly radical insight is that successful incentives are not just about financial logic. If we want people and businesses to act, schemes must be easy to understand, fast to use, and emotionally coherent. In short: built for the people and businesses they’re meant to reach. If we learn the lessons, next time we might not need a crisis to get it right.
Author bio:
Dr Rupert Gill was Head of Behavioural Insights and Trials at HMRC during the development of Eat Out to Help Out and contributed advice on its design. He led the Behavioural team at Ofcom and has advised at the Treasury and Cabinet Office.
