I wrote what I called a COVID after action report back in April, optimistically thinking that all the action had ended by that time, and now here we are. At best that article could have been said to be in the “first quarter” of the game, which is technically true because if we count February as the beginning of all the lockdown measures, then it has been 7 months since then. More than half of this year spent in lockdown! It boggles the mind.
At the time I suggested COVID was case of Mass Hysteria. Some fear was drummed up and drove the people to drastic action without ever manifesting any threat. As an example of this, I gave the example of british townfolk burning the countryside in fear of a clandestine invasion of Irish which never materialized.
The thought occurred to me that maybe that was an uncharitable interpretation. The threat is very real, for some. I know of at least two people, related to acquaintances, who have died and many more who have fallen ill. There’s no doubt that the threat is real. For some.
Not everyone is at risk, and not everyone will get sick. I get the impression though that the powers that be believe that every single individual is a ticking time-bomb: if not for sudden and tragic death, for swift and deadly transmission.
I wonder if this could be described as a case of Munchausen by Proxy. The threat is very real, but practically speaking there can be targeted measures to protect the vulnerable. It doesn’t seem like it’s too controversial a claim to suggest that the risk does not fall evenly on everybody.
I’m thinking about this today because one of the side effects of COVID is that most people work remotely. I live in walking distance from my place of work, so I’m still going to the office. But one consequence is that, on days like today, I am the only person in the office. It’s been like this for 7 months. My colleagues offices gather dust and occasionally I provide tech support, because their computers are their portal to remote work and occasionally needs a kick in the pants to allow access.
The hallways have been dark for a long time, and we’ve replaced in-person meetings with remote ones, and in greater abundance. The entire culture has had to shift–clumsily, at first, but repetition has worn down the new pathways which we navigated with discomfort back in February. We had to learn how to communicate via email, which was humorous, and eventually we will have to re-learn how to communicate verbally.
In HG Wells “The Time Machine” there was a race of Morlocks who lived underground and were the manufacturers and supporters, and a race of Eloi who were innocent and childlike and totally ignorant. I’m trying to figure out if being the only one in the office makes me a Morlock or an Eloi. Am I providing essential support that my peers need from their distant station, or am I ignorantly busying myself while the real work gets done elsewhere?
I diagnosed, in some friends of mine years ago, an irrational fear of nature among some people who have never lived far from the beating heart of civilization. I can’t paint with a broad brush because I know that is not universally true, but I have observed it enough to be able to believe that there is a substantial population who have this irrational fear of nature.
I grew up in the rural reaches of a remote suburb, a family home ensconced in a thick forest. I spent a fair amount of time in close proximity to wilderness, and so I have a healthy respect for and understanding of how creatures found in the wild react to the presence of humans.
I was visiting my friends one day, those years ago, much closer to the densely populated metropolitan North of my state. We were walking around the apartment complex and came across a fox rooting around some trash. My friends immediately yelped and retreated. I like nature and I especially like seeing how close I can get to creatures found in the wild. Animals will always flee when you come within a certain radius–there’s a word for it, which I forget now, but it’s something akin to ‘safety bubble’. If they have nowhere to flee, that is when they will attack, but simply approaching slowly and non-threateningly usually causes them to run away to a place with fewer interlocutors. So I approached this fox and it ran off as expected. My friends admonished me for risking rabies and other hypothetical woes.
This observation isn’t to suggest that I am somehow brave or my friends were somehow cowardly. More to observe that proximity to nature breeds familiarity with nature, and distance from it breeds unfamiliarity. That anecdote sticks in my memory because there could not have been more different reactions.
I wonder if the COVID response can be traced to this. COVID is invisible and therefore scary, and home is safe. Therefore our leaders, who uniformly reside in cities just by nature of being our leaders, impulsively retreated and ordered all the populace to follow suit. Yes, it is prudent and safe, just like retreating from a wild fox rooting through trash. But that’s not to suggest the alternative is imprudent and unsafe. There’s a specific circumstance where COVID is deadly, and likewise a specific circumstance where happening upon a fox in the wild can lead to injury. Defending against those specific circumstances perhaps could have allowed less social disruption.
All of my predictions about COVID have been wrong, so who can say. All I know is when the book is officially closed on this chapter of our lives, the retrospective will be extremely interesting and informative.
AMDG
