Alf Young: How governments choose to do the business of government never ceases to amaze me. "Let the work of change begin," urged Gordon Brown on Wednesday. The next day a veritable blizzard of change swept through Whitehall.

How governments choose to do the business of government never ceases to amaze me. "Let the work of change begin," urged Gordon Brown on Wednesday. The next day a veritable blizzard of change swept through Whitehall. Whole departments were abolished or split asunder and given fresh identities. As the first Brown cabinet met in the afternoon, only one full member was still in the same job as before. And Des Browne found himself adding the Scotland Office to his existing defence portfolio.

But before the work of change that actually impacts meaningfully on people's lives can begin, all those smiling faces being greeted by their senior civil servants have to read their way into their new roles. Bulging red boxes await. Alas, the "work of change" is no respecter of politicians clinging to already precipitous learning curves. Poor James Purnell, only six years an MP but already the new Culture Secretary, is already being lobbied hard by the royal household because the front facade of Buckingham Palace is crumbling.

It seems the perfidious French sold us a load of porous limestone in 1847 that isn't matching the endurance of the Bath stone used elsewhere in the building. Down to her last few bob, the Queen needs £3m over the next three years to put things right. After all, Buck House has to look its best for the 2012 Olympics. But how is the youngest member of this new cabinet intake, who lists poverty beside culture and sport as one of his special interests, to deal with a royal curve ball like this when he's still getting to grips with what the job's all about? Purnell's dilemma will be replicated in every corner of the Brown government.

It may be all change in Whitehall, and a maelstrom of new brass plates and portfolios may, for now, reinforce the message that Blair's gone and Brown is different. But anyone believing this kind of change is all that's needed to give a government fresh vigour would be well advised to await concrete evidence that delivery actually matches the rhetoric. On some fronts there are already serious doubts it ever will.

Gordon Brown had a real opportunity to recast London's chequered relationship with the devolved nations and regions of the UK. He could surely have devised radical new links which signalled clear intent to engage constructively with today's multi-party realities of political life in Edinburgh, Belfast and Cardiff. Instead, he's perpetuated the back-of-an-envelope solutions of his predecessor.

Peter Hain moves from Northern Ireland to Work and Pensions but keeps, as an add-on, his role as Secretary of State for Wales. After Paddy Ashdown said no, Northern Ireland goes to 1999 Tory defector Shaun Woodward who, being married into the Sainsbury dynasty, is doing the job for free. That may discombobulate Mssrs Paisley and McGuinness if he turns up with his butler. And Scotland goes to Browne, prompting media jokes that he would soon be parking his tanks on Alex Salmond's lawn.

Within hours, such jokes turned very sour indeed when two of three young British soldiers killed by the latest roadside bomb in Basra turned out to be from Fife, one from Cowdenbeath in Gordon Brown's own constituency. Browne, now a part-time Defence Secretary as well as a part-time Secretary of State for Scotland, can't win on this one. His dual roles risk leaving everyone thoroughly browned off.

And what are we to make of the raft of new ministers for the regions of England? There's the Prime Minister's old trusty, Nick Brown, who combine the role of deputy chief whip with being minister for the north-east of England. But from that lot only Tessa Jowell, as minister for London, gets to attend cabinet meetings. Is that because she's also minister for the Olympics? Or is it decreed the most subsidised part of these islands needs special access to the top table? And, if it is, are all the others expected to lobby for their patches from the wings? How, precisely, are they to make their presence felt?

It all looks to me like a huge missed opportunity. And then there's the DTI. There was plenty of speculation that Gordon Brown would scrap it altogether. He did take the science and innovation functions and put them into a new Department for Innovation, Universities and Skills. And some of the DTI's trade work is being shared with a beefed-up Department for International Development, under Douglas Alexander.

But that leaves a Department for Business, Enterprise and Regulatory Reform, under John Hutton, whose focus will be on "productivity and enterprise". It all begins to read like chapter headings from a decade of Brown's Treasury red books. But didn't Tony Blair try something similar after the 2005 General Election? Didn't he try to rebrand the DTI as the Department for Productivity, Energy and Industry, only to perform a smart U-turn a week later when the business lobby greeted the change with derision?

This time, the DBERR will be augmented by a new Business Council for Britain. It will report to government and parliament "on Britain's progress in improving its economic and business environment". But is Sir Alan Sugar the right man to chair it? What power will he and his colleagues have if they don't like what they find? Could Sugar fire Hutton, for instance, if he doesn't like his ministerial style?

Changing the architecture of government, it seems to me, usually promises much more than it ever manages to deliver. We've been doing it for decades. Remember Tony Benn was Minister of Technology 40 years ago. But Gordon Brown is not the only leading politician who seems destined to retread old roads. News of the new Business Council for Britain coincided with Scotland's First Minister revealing the names of those joining his Council of Economic Advisers. There's no doubting the quality, including two Nobel laureates, even if some of Alex Salmond's group are, predictably, long-term SNP supporters.

But will this mix of senior business figures and academic economists gel in any meaningful way? Can it really produce the kind of impact Alex Salmond has suggested? Before the Holyrood election, this council was going to set a growth rate target for Scotland. Now it is going to do something a lot less ambitious. It will sit down four times a year, after Scotland's latest quarterly growth numbers are published, and advise the First Minister on how we could do better. Once a year it will publish an "expert commentary". I wish it well. But, as with some of Gordon Brown's Whitehall reforms, I'm not holding my breath for sudden transformation.