In order to write about the new world, one has to predict the future. Speculate about how things will turn out a long time from now.
I got to thinking - how has that turned out in the past?
I was reading an article in The Atlantic called "How Will the Coronavirus End?" Sounded like it was right down my alley. It didn't take long, however, to realize that it was ancient - late March, to be (almost) precise.
As far as March is concerned, September might be the new world. How did The Atlantic do?
Well, they did pretty well. There were three sections - 'The Next Months,' 'The Endgame,' and 'The Aftermath' - or, in other worlds, the new world.
'The Next Months' was about testing, protective equipment, and social distancing. Masks weren't a thing yet (can you imagine that?) and contact tracing wasn't mainstream yet. For how long? If all went right, with coordinated leadership and universal buy-in (remember "We're all in this together?"), "It could be anywhere from four to six weeks up to three months," Fauci said, "but I don't have great confidence in that range."
Four weeks to three months. Isn't that adorable?
Anyway, on to "The Endgame." After disposing of the "everyone around the world does everything perfectly and the virus disappears" scenario, as well as the herd immunity scenario, we begin to consider the whack-a-mole scenario, which is, I think, the way it turned out.
The third scenario is that the world plays a protracted game of whack-a-mole with the virus, stamping out outbreaks here and there until a vaccine can be produced. This is the best option, but also the longest and most complicated.
Sounds like where we are. And where we'll be until the vaccine is universal.
And then what? The article ends with a step into our new world - after the virus is gone. "The Aftermath." Curiously enough (sarcasm alert) the new world will depend on the results of the election in November. After discussing economic and mental health impacts, the reconsideration of America's penchant for isolationism and conformity-resistance (which hadn't, at that point, flared into the Mask Wars), and the endless cycle of "panic and neglect," we are treated to not one, but two new worlds.
In one, America single-handedly destroys the China virus (or at least that's how the history books tell it, in this scenario), and "turns further inward and pulls out of NATO and other international alliances, builds actual and figurative walls, and disinvests in other nations." Just as after 9/11, when terrorism became the universal fear for politicians to exploit, in this new world, pandemics from "those countries" drives American isolation and aggression.
Or it could turn out another way. We repudiate "America First," and...
...a communal spirit, ironically born through social distancing, causes people to turn outward, to neighbors both foreign and domestic.. The nation pivots, as it did after World War II, from isolationism to international cooperation. Bouyed by steady investments and an influx of the brightest minds, the health-care workforce surges. Gen C kids write school essays about growing up to be epidemiologists. Public health becomes the centerpiece of foreign policy. The US leads a new global partnership focused on solving challenges like pandemics and climate change.
In 2030, SARS-CoV-3 emerges from nowhere, and is brought to heel within a month.
And we know what the difference between these two scenarios is, don't we?
No comments:
Post a Comment