CONSIDERING humanity’s experiences with the Black Death, smallpox, cholera, and “Spanish” flu (which can hardly be blamed on Spain), it’s a good bet that the world will eventually leave the COVID-19 pandemic behind, at least for awhile. Tough luck for the end-days sky-is-falling apocalypse crowd. My question is: Then what? And by that I mean two things: (1) Will those of us who survive it become any better for having gone through this miserable experience? Will our collective future be any brighter. And (2) Will the world -- especially “advanced” western nations -- be different, and if so, in what way?
Disasters have a way of building resilience and perspective. At least for awhile. That will almost certainly be so in the Covid-19 aftermath. We are undergoing on a massive scale what countless people around the world have experienced at smaller geographic scales through hurricanes, earthquakes, floods, and fires. All of these events are in important ways that are transformative. World views, and even behaviors, changes. Eventually, though, things often creep slowly back to “normal,” which is another way of saying that the lessons fade..
What is the best that could come of this? Well. It could prompt a lasting change in values, in how we feel about ourselves and each other. Experience suggests that long term change of this kind is just bloody unlikely. I hope I’m wrong, but that is the lesson of history. But there is more at stake: Will the powers that be -- government authorities, the medical establishment – take the obvious lessons forward?
Certainly there will be significantly more advance buying and stockpiling of ventilators, masks, gowns, and various other pertinent medical supplies. Having been shamed by its woeful lack of preparedness his time around, the government will have to step forward and create a “strategic medical reserve,” so to speak. There will be some legislative effort to ensure a more centralized federally-coordinated response to such events in the future. The success of such efforts probably will depend upon who holds the presidency at the time.
But let’s look beyond the obvious. For a couple of minutes, let’s muster our most Jeffersonian imaginations. suppose that we, an informed and thoughtful electorate, have put into office women and men who represent the best among us: exemplars of the most intelligent, thoughtful, experienced and compassionate of our population. What would they do? What new policies and contingency plans would they put into place? What new arrangements? What would they urge, or even compel, us to do? In addition to new pandemics that sweep across the world at unpredictable times and paces, and with unpredictable characteristics and consequences, what other events and possibilities might be foreseen with a bit of concentrated effort? What could they do to help ensure that we aren’t revisited by nightmares far worse than this one, nightmares whose timing and consequences elude us as we allow ourselves to be consumed by the present?
It’s enticing to think about, but don’t spend too much time on that exercise. Even as you read the previous paragraph, you knew that it referred to some utopian world that you and I will never inhabit. We will instead continue to live in a world led by some combination of tyrants, self-interested captains of industry (and their political friends), and well-meaning but quite average individuals elected into systems of governance that are not where change is like turning a mega-tanker, only harder. Some are better tha that of course, but they are too few. Any hope for better is dashed because, as H.L. Mencken wrote, “No one in this world, so far as I know … has ever lost money by underestimating the intelligence of the great masses of the plain people. Nor has anyone ever lost public office thereby.” And it is the “plain people” who dominate the electorate.
If there is little chance that elected officials will learn from and act upon this experience in useful ways, what about the individuals -- all of us who manage to survive -- who lived through it? Beyond the first post-pandemic year or so, will we or the way we live be significantly different?
I’ve been through a couple of calamities of shorter duration with less loss of life -- Hurricanes Betsy and Katrina. Those and numerous other events in recent decades have shown almost universally that people often rise to the occasion, often exhibiting extraordinary kindnesses and generosity. The is a new air of civility, and smiles and expressions of good will are commonplace, not only in the midst of the emergency, but for some time thereafter. And, with almost equal universality, things fade back to the previous normal. Rarely do entire set of cultural values, centuries in the making, suddenly change forever because of one relatively brief episode, however calamitous. It will probably be no different in this case.
But what about the things we’re learning (or should be learning) about how things can be done differently, maybe for the better? Here, I think, there is room for hope. Several months experience with online instruction by every university professor and most primary and secondary teachers in the country may give rise to innovative new approaches. Minimally, it will leave those who have only ever experienced face-to-face instruction a greater comfort level with remote delivery, and an appreciation of what it take to do it effectively. In essence, the faculty will start to close the technology gap between themselves and their students.
In the larger workplace, there will be questions, and probably new arrangements. Does all future work need to be done in a “workplace”? Is home an equally good location, at least for some kinds of work? What are the gains and losses? Does face-to-face contact with co-workers really matter? Does working at home violate the sanctity of home as a sanctuary? For some kinds of work, I think we can anticipate “blended” arrangements that combine work-at-home with periodic personal meetings and gatherings. The physical facilities that have comprise the “workplace” maybe smaller and differently organized.
But already in the new coronavirus-influenced world where we have to live at present we are seeing increasing stresses on intra-family relationships, and increasing depression and suicides. As a society, we aren’t well hardened to large-scale stresses like this. Are these really the inevitable consequences of prolonged isolation, and if so, do we want any more of it in any form? There is much to ponder.
Finally, given the reasonable premise that our national and state governments will satisfy themselves with stockpiling more medical supplies, and given he further reasonable assumption that something new, with unpredictable implications, will eventually come along to challenge our species in a different way -- what can you do to prepare for that? I think there is actually an answer to this question, and it comes in the form of a disjunction – a choice between two alternatives. First, you can dive down the survivalist hole. Everyone to themselves, and good luck to you. Or you can carefully examine your own life and come to whatever accommodations, not just physical but spiritual, will work for you. At the end of the day. That is all you can really control.
-- Dave D. Davis