This fantasyland daze we walk around in, pretending all of our fates are not connected
The Threatened Swan, Jan Asselijn, 1650
Hello from Crisis Palace where we are healthy and safe, working from the palace, and responsibly limiting human contact.
I have found that Covid-19 has turned me into a machine that makes analogies. It’s kinda like this, it’s not quite like that, think back to SARS, September 11, Hurricane Sandy, the Marathon bombing, the 2016 election. That kind of thinking back is one way that people have made it this far, I guess, by remembering what this thing happening now is like and then responding accordingly. But, of course, this one is not exactly like any of these other things, because it is after all novel coronavirus it’s right there in the name, one of many reasons this is all so difficult and frustrating.
One thing it is kind of like though, which you may have guessed I would bring up, is the climate crisis, stirring up many of the same dynamics only on an exponentially faster timeline. Coronavirus and climate change are similar in that everything seems fine until it’s clearly not fine anymore but by that time it’s mostly too late because what really mattered was all the stuff we should have been doing when everything seemed fine but we didn’t.
So in both cases, when you take precautions in advance you might feel silly and some people might even make fun of you, but then later if you didn’t act in advance, you will feel like you really screwed up like James Franco in that movie where he squished his arm in the rock and was like ah shit I can’t believe I left that bottle of gatorade in the truck now I have to drink my pee.
So let’s not have to drink our pee, metaphorically or literally, and even though it seems like things are changing every single minute, we can go through some stuff that we do know, heavy on the links to other people who know way more than I do, with some Crisis Palace-y thoughts along the way.
Not great, Bob
I suspect by the time this goes out, people in many? most? parts of the US will have gotten past their initial instincts of saying, oh it’s probably not that bad people are overreacting or fear-mongering everyone settle down already.
I guess we all have to cross that threshold on our own, but we certainly have here in Boston, where the city has pretty much shut down. Two very concerning realities in Massachusetts are that 70 of our 108 known cases of coronavirus came from just one business conference (update: it’s now 123 total). Second, our confirmed cases seemed to have slowed, but that doesn’t mean a whole lot because even worse than in other states, we’ve had a severe shortage of testing. As of Tuesday, we had only tested 400 people since Feb 28. Looks like next week they are trying to increase that to 400 a day. Doctors described the lack of testing so far as a “debacle,” seeing patients with probable coronavirus, “some of whom had recently been on buses and planes — and being unable to test some of the suspected cases.”
National testing for the virus is also going not great and making it all the worse is the fact that the “dumbest, meanest, laziest asshole on earth is in charge,” a president whose “policy regarding coronavirus has unfolded as if guided by one rule: How can I make this crisis worse?”
And, if taking precautions like canceling gatherings and staying inside seems like a gigantic pain in the ass, be sure to read up on what it looks like when this virus tears through a community at full speed.
This interview with the leader of the WHO team that visited China shows, for one, just how impressive and necessary the response from the Chinese government was in getting the outbreak under control. He also describes a probable fatality rate of 1 to 2% (I’ll let you do the math on your city’s population), building entire new hospitals, millions of people staying home, and an entire economy put on hold. “This is the Wayne Gretzky of viruses — people didn’t think it was big enough or fast enough to have the impact it does.”
Meanwhile, Italy is under quarantine. All of Italy. As one Italian describes it:
A few days ago, an American friend asked me if someone I knew had contracted COVID-19. No, I didn’t know anyone. Until two days ago, when I did. Today, I know three. The more the days go by, the more the numbers grow, the more the circle tightens. When I talk to my friends abroad, I only have one piece of advice: Keep your guard up.
Systems failure
One thing that a lot of people are observing as this pandemic unfolds is that all of the things that are already screwed up about the United States are being magnified and exposed. I want to go back to that WHO guy Dr. Bruce Aylward, who points out that one thing China has going for it is that all testing is free, and if you do have Covid-19 the state then pays for everything.
In the U.S., that’s a barrier to speed. People think: “If I see my doctor, it’s going to cost me $100. If I end up in the I.C.U., what’s it going to cost me?” That’ll kill you. That’s what could wreak havoc. This is where universal health care coverage and security intersect. The U.S. has to think this through.
As one Congresswoman Katie Porter pointed out in a video that made the rounds, how can we expect to contain this thing stateside if people are terrified of what it will cost them to go to the doctor?
More than 28 million Americans have no health insurance, most of us who do have private insurance still pay a lot out of pocket, and one report found that 40% of Americans can’t cover an unexpected $400 expense. That certainly will be exacerbated by all the people in the service and gig economies who are losing income as a result of outbreaks and precautions.
Here are some things I said this morning when I was tired and upset:
And none of this is to speak of the different ways the systems that are supposed to directly deal with public health crises are failing us, in part due to chronic underfunding of America’s public health system, along with a global lack of preparedness.
De-centering ourselves
So what are we supposed to do? Well my dudes you’re on your own there I’m afraid because recommendations are different in every place, changing every day, and the biggest problem is what we don’t know. But here is one reporter’s attempt to figure it out and there is some very good advice in there.
I guess I can say what we are doing at our house, which is as of about a week ago, stocking up on dry goods, toilet paper, etc. in case it gets to the point where we really can’t go out—but NOT panicking and overbuying like an asshole. The usual hand washing, disinfecting. Minimizing our trips out, avoiding crowds.
I’m also trying to more generally get my head around how to think about this thing over what’s starting to look like will be a long haul, and one compelling case I heard from Ann Friedman today was that we should all do our best to “de-center ourselves” in our decision-making. Again, like climate change, a public health crisis like this requires us to do things with the best interests of everyone in mind, instead of our own, since every personal action impacts the herd.
What each of us does affects, not only our own risk levels, but everyone else’s—our moms, dads, grandmas, and grandpas, friends and neighbors with chronic health issues. When you say, “oh it’s just like the flu what’s the big deal” or “I’m not afraid of a little bug,” and go to a hockey game or say a Smurf convention, you are really saying, I don’t care if other people get sick.
I read two very good articles that explain this concept, which is very frustrating that it needs to be explained, but still.
The first is from Zeynep Tufekci, a sociologist who teaches about pandemic response and who readers will recognize, as I’m a fan of her research on social movements. She started banging this drum very early on, when, honestly I was still shrugging off the threat:
It seems to me that some people may be holding back from preparing because of their understandable dislike of associating such preparation with doomsday or “prepper” subcultures. … Others may not feel like contributing to a panic or appearing to be selfish.
Forget all that. Preparing for the almost inevitable global spread of this virus, now dubbed COVID-19, is one of the most pro-social, altruistic things you can do in response to potential disruptions of this kind.
We should prepare, not because we may feel personally at risk, but so that we can help lessen the risk for everyone. We should prepare not because we are facing a doomsday scenario out of our control, but because we can alter every aspect of this risk we face as a society.
The second is this beautifully written, moving essay by Meghan O’Rourke, which truly, this whole newsletter should have just said go read this instead. But here is one part for starters:
Americans have allowed ourselves to believe that the self, rather than the community, must do all the healing. COVID-19 is a stark reminder that the community, rather than the self, may be the first line of protection. To be ill is to know our interconnectedness, but to be ill in America today is to be brought up against the pathology of a culture that denies this fact.
So yeah we can ask ourselves how we might shift our behaviors from self-preservation to caring for the community. At the recommendation of one of our city councillors Michelle Wu, we’re going to round up contact info of close neighbors and start a group chat or email in case people need help, something that we probably should have done a long time ago. As Wu put it, “Let’s do more than just wash our hands. Even as we practice social-distancing, it’s more important than ever to strengthen our social bonds.”
If it makes sense in your circumstances, mindfully meet in small groups to avoid social isolation. Call people. Stay in contact digitally. Without bombarding people with links and lectures, we can text to check in, see how it’s going, what cancellations we’re sad about, what TV shows we’re watching.
Who knows how this pandemic unfolds from here and what things look like on the other side of it, but when we get there, maybe we can be stronger and better prepared for the next thing—whether it’s another virus, a flood, a storm, a drought, or a wildfire. Then we can look back and say, oh this thing is like this other thing, and this is how we got through it.
Listening
Watching
Not that long ago I would have said that I don’t really need anymore Mission: Impossible movies in my life beyond the first one that I saw in the theater in the 90s and the second one that I don’t remember being that good. But I was wrong. I watched 2018’s Mission: Impossible—Fallout and it was so much fun. Solid self-quarantine viewing. Even if you don’t really like Tom Cruise, you’re really showing up for Rebecca Ferguson and Henry Cavill.
Let’s see, for TV I watched the last season of Preacher which was not very good but the final episode salvaged it a bit. Now on to season 2 of Lodge 49!
Comics
I’m working through a rather large stack of comics I’ve piled up and one is Jack Kirby’s OMAC (One Man Army Corps) published in 1974 and 1975. If you are a fan of Marvel stuff, there’s a 100% chance that you are a fan of Jack Kirby’s creations, and he basically created the style of visual storytelling that still dominates mainstream comics. Beyond his influence on superheroes, though, he’s one of the most beloved artists among even today’s most elevated and indie cartoonists. And finally, Jack Kirby just came up with some of the weirdest shit in comics history.
OMAC definitely falls in that category. He is basically this super-soldier from the future with a mohawk who gets his power from a satellite called “Brother Eye,” which is controlled by a kind of UN stand-in. There were only 8 issues but the first one involves basically exploding sex dolls, and in the last one he faces a villain who steals entire bodies of water. It’s weirdly anti-corporate too look at this plot line about privatization of public space lol.
OK that’s enough for this week I’m whipped. This whole thing sucks right? It’s scary and sad to have to face something difficult and not be able to gather together to make it easier, the one thing we would all typically do in tough times. Hang in there, be kind to each other, don’t panic but do prepare. Read the news but not all the time. Have some fun, joke around, eat a bunch of pasta, make a big thing of soup or a casserole.
Feel free to respond to this email and let me know what you’re thinking about all this mess, how you’re responding, what you’re doing to keep it together.
Tate
PS. And seriously, if you only hit one link this week, hit this one.