In a shining example of tokenism, George Osborne has graciously conceded to the free-bleeding protesters outside Westminster, and vowed to scrap the Tampon Tax.

I remain unimpressed for several reasons - the most obvious of which is that it's as much a move to pacify Eurosceptics as it is to quell the annual backlash from the Stop Taxing Periods campaign during the Budget review.

For the right or wrong reasons, scrapping the levy on sanitary products was a necessary measure to take. But more importantly, the manoeuvre doesn't come close to dealing with the much wider issue of sex discrimination entrenched in the feminine hygiene industry.

Here are three reasons why.

1. Corporations still profit from periods

It's possibly an obvious observation to make but the financial impact of the Tampon Tax abolition is at best minimal for the individual.

A woman who buys a 40-pack of Tampax Pearl (the pinnacle of menstrual luxury) every month will save roughly £3.30 in a year.

I'm inclined to side with the Guardian's Eleanor Robertson who wrote: "If it's wrong for the state to charge women for having menstruating bodies, it's wrong for the state to allow an industry to profit from women for the same reason."

So while the Treasury might be stripped of an annual £15m from the sale of sanitary products, giants like Always and Procter and Gamble still revel in a $15bn industry, one that perpetuates institutionalised sexism in its advertising alone.

And as Robertson pointed out, there are plenty of other tax pitfalls that women can't avoid - toilet paper for instance falls prey to GST, which women use more of.

2. Irresponsible advertising

Yes, modern ad campaigns are slightly more empowering than the black and white posters reassuring young women that their virginity would remain intact if they elected to use tampons over towels. But I would question whether the ideologies have really evolved.

Just seven months ago, Australian brand SOFY BeFresh was slammed after it unveiled an ad for sanitary towels depicting a woman in the throws of menstrual rage - comfort eating, spontaneously crying and insulting her cat. The condition was glibly dubbed "ugh".

But are the less controversial ads any different in principle?

In a recent bid to entice women to their brand, Always have pointed out that their products enable free-spirited beauties to stay out partying to the small hours.

"5am. We're still out. AND it's my period!" our leading lady trills.

I'm left wondering what she might have been doing had she not been wearing her Always - presumably at home in the foetal position clutching a hot water bottle and a family-sized bar of Dairy Milk.

The idea that menstruating women struggle to function "normally" is tired, and for the most part, inaccurate. During a debate on the Tampon Tax last year, MP Alison Thewliss warned the House that "any number of female colleagues here today may have their period and nobody knows, and that is quite right."

Generally speaking, women get on with their periods with discretion - often through back-breaking cramps, bloating and a cocktail of hormone fluctuations, I might add.

If we didn't, I imagine Always would find around 50% of their workforce mysteriously absent for roughly 60 days of the year.

Maybe we should make more noise about our cycles - we may end up with more edifying ads for women like this.

Water Aid hammered home the vast gender gap last year in raising awareness of the 1.25bn women without basic sanitation during their period.

Look at Lynx, Gillette or flip through the pages of GQ. Ads targeting male audiences encourage a celebration of virility and success, meanwhile women are encouraged to "outsmart Mother Nature", be "discreet" and carry on like nothing significant is happening in your nether regions.

I'm not for lauding my reproductive health over strangers, but neither am I comfortable with corporations attempting to pressure me into silence.

If they have to exist, then companies selling sanitary products should be thoroughly regulated to promote progressive discussion on hygiene, body confidence and the wide range of women's health needs.

3. Sexism in the Commons

Finally, I admit I find it difficult to celebrate Osborne's levy adjustment when his fellow Conservatives have been caught smirking at the word "tampon".

Stella Creasy forced Bill Cash to use the term in a House of Commons debate in October last year, refusing to sit down until he had repeated the two syllables.

It was a worthy point to make - though the empty seats in the background indicated there were precious few MPs around to hear it.

The Commons certainly needs to be brought into the 21st century. Yes MPs need to master a straight-faced utterance of the word "tampon" but they also need to attend debates that affect more than 50% of their constituencies.

I've heard the argument that instead of abolishing the Tampon Tax, the government should simply start taxing male-equivalent items to bring about gender balance. (I can imagine a lot less laughing in the House at that debate.) But what are those exactly? Deodorants? Razors? Loose-fitting and fertility-protecting boxer shorts?

There are no male-equivalent taxable products to tampons that can even out the financial disparity. Women have periods. Men don't. We still have to buy sanitary products and those hit with the burden of a menstrual cycle the most are living below the poverty line.

The imbalance fuels journalist Jessica Valenti's case for free sanitary products. I'm all for it, at the very least for low income families and the homeless. But how do we do that with an already buckling NHS?

The government needs to redirect funds. Not in a manner than negatively impacts the elderly and disabled, but perhaps one that stops high earners from walking out their local chemist with a box of free paracetamol.

Commentary by Mary McCool, a digital journalist at STV. You can contact her at mary.mccool@stv.tv.