Rejoining Society

Once again, we are being told that the pandemic is receding, that it may indeed be over, that we can now learn to live with it like we do the flu or the common cold. The numbers suggest they could be right this time. Case rates, hospitalizations and deaths in Canada have been dropping steadily for the last few weeks; the most serious cases remain among the unvaccinated, a solvable problem that won’t be solved. The reported cases worldwide have dropped dramatically each of the last three weeks, though that may be a testing/reporting anomaly.

Time will tell. A new variant may emerge among the hundreds of thousands who are currently sick. It may be more contagious and more deadly than Omicron or it might not.

In Canada, Alberta and Saskatchewan have kindly volunteered to experiment on their populations to give us a few weeks notice before other provinces lower their guard. With apologies to my friends who live there, canaries have always been a useful addition to coal mines.

But let’s suppose the pandemic has indeed run its course. All things do end, whether you are talking about fads or world-spanning diseases, though they generally leave remnants in their wake. We all know people who cling to fashions or TV shows long after their time has passed.

The same will be true of COVID-19. There is, of course, long COVID, a syndrome we don’t yet understand but one that afflicts a significant number of people with on-going fatigue and a compromised immune system among other symptoms. But there are other troublesome fragments as well.

No matter when the scientists and public health officials say it is over and we can live our lives as we used to, there will be those who remain unconvinced, unsure if it is really safe. They are a strange mirror image of those who denied the reality of the pandemic. Though less antagonistic to the doctors than the anti-vaxxers, they still reject the conclusions of science and the advice of medical professionals who tell us the isolation is damaging our mental health or interfering with our children’s ability to learn. They remain reluctant to rejoin society and almost insistent that those who are ready, should continue to stay home and stay away from others.

Of course, some people have always preferred to limit their social contacts, whether because of introversion or social anxiety or personal choice. For them, socialization is a chore, being with strangers is painful, clustering with a few familiar bodies is comforting. This is part of the broad spectrum of human behavior that constitutes normal. They are no odder than those who can’t stand being alone or silent, who insist that gathering in crowds is desirable, that small talk is the breath of life. Extroverts are normal, too.

The enforced seclusions and the limiting of social contacts has changed people. Those like me, who can take or leave social contact—enjoying it tremendously in small doses before needing to retreat—may find themselves, as I do, feeling uncomfortable with the idea of seeing other people (not in an open marriage way but, you know, for coffee). My inner introvert is rearing its head, but it doesn’t comfort me, it makes me sad. I now yearn to be with others while supressing the urge to do so.

Others may be having the opposite reaction, feeling the need for social gatherings that surpass what they might have wanted in the past. Their inner extrovert has taken hold; every rule is made to be broken in the frenzy to be part of the crowd, at the heart of the party.

Neither approach is a long-term solution to the long, enforced pause we have endured (other than the flouters) or, for that matter, enjoyed. We are, even introverts, social creatures; that’s how we evolved. Though evolution also made us only so social. It’s no more natural to want to be with everyone than it is to want to be with no one.

Finding our way back to normal human interactions, away from screens and speakers, is the next challenge. The first step may be to realize that everyone has suffered differently in the pandemic. That differential suffering has led many of us to adopt fixed opinions about those who responded in a way different from us; fixed opinions have been magnified by social media, to the point families and former friends are divided and filled with anger at the other.

No matter what side of the divide you are on, you know that feeling of rage when your feelings, your experiences are diminished or denied. Learning to be civil, even to those who are different or who we don’t really like, may be the biggest challenge that COVID will leave us with.

I’m not sure how to proceed. I may start by unsnoozing, refollowing and unblocking all those people on Facebook that I’ve clicked away. Well, at least some of them. I think a few invitations, offered and accepted, may be in order to. Slowly, slowly, I will emerge. Tomorrow. Or maybe next week. Or soon.

But if you’re still staying inside, you might enjoy one of the books I wrote or edited (here) or my recent mysteries, In the Shadow of Versailles or By Dawn’s Early Light.

Photo by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash

When Evidence Fails

It is an enduring myth of the Enlightenment that humans are rational creatures, seeking their enlightened self-interest based on the evidence of their senses. While reason has proven a powerful tool in science and technological advances, in the realm of other human endeavours, it has revealed considerable weaknesses. Emotion, instinct, gut feelings have all proven more powerful from time-to-time leading decisions which evidence and reason could never support but which we somehow justify. We are, it seems, the rationalizing animal.

This is not a criticism of my fellow beings. I am as prone to these things as anyone else and if I fall into the trap less often, I can only thank those people who taught me to question everything, including my own conclusions, with a critical mind. I don’t always get it right.

It would be a disaster if we were to accept, as some polemicists would urge us to do, to abandon reason and evidence as the guiding principle of both our public and private lives. We would succumb quickly to the loudest voices, to the popular will, which, in retrospect, is so often not merely misguided but incredibly harmful.

The recent conflict between the Truck Convoy (I will neither use their self-congratulatory name or the derisive ones used against them) and the government is a case of point. The people who occupied Ottawa and their supporters in Canada and abroad seem to believe they are being oppressed. They also seemed to believe their non-evidence-based “science” was accurate and that people who actually do science were wrong. They also believed a lot of things that could easily be shown to be false.

But not to them. They were emotionally and psychologically committed to their beliefs and those who attempted to question them or even asked the protesters to clarify what they meant by words such as “freedom” or “oppression” were met with howls of rage and abuse and in some cases, assaults. Reason is a limited tool against rage. Evidence has little impact on emotion.

What are we, those of us for whom the balance tips toward reasoned debate and away from emotional diatribes, to do? Engagement and persuasion can be tried but only by those with deep stores of patience and specific skills; most of us soon fall into the trap of anger and invective. Our rage confirms the validity of theirs. Everything devolves into us versus them.

Of course, there were many people who could talk to the convoyeurs: people who validated their opinions, grievances and anger, often for their own benefit. As long as you confirmed their bias they seemed like gentle reasonable folk and it would be easy to be fooled into thinking they were. Certainly, I think a number of politicians were so fooled—some woke up and realized their error, but it was difficult for then to back away from their previous public displays of support. Some tried; others doubled down.

Eventually, the government decided to rely on the one tool of reason that has an effect on everyone: the law. It was clear, to anyone who lived in Ottawa, at least, that the protesters would have never left, even after the pandemic ended and the government mandates were over. The emotions that drove the original protest had morphed into deeply held grievances that could never be assuaged. They could not and did not listen to their fellow citizens or to the politicians who had befriended them—ignoring their calls to depart. They did not listen to their own so-called leaders (leadership means little to libertarians, or, if you prefer, anarchists). They would not go until the government made them go.

But they haven’t gone far. They have an agenda and it has little to do with democracy or freedom. And what can we do about that? Try to be reasonable, I guess, try to think critically, questioning everything, especially our most strongly held beliefs. Try always to be kind and do the right thing. Try to listen and persuade with reasoned argument and evidence even when it seems pointless to do so.

I’ve been wrong about things and changed my views when evidence overwhelmed me, but it was hard. Sometimes, it seems that it would be easier to just go with my gut. But then I think, my brain spews out thoughts and words—some of which have value—what my gut spews out is only good for fertilizing flowers and spreading disease. Not entirely comforting but it’s what I’ve got.

Photo by Wonderlane on Unsplash