Unanswered questions abound as COVID-19 shutdown continues
“Over? Did you say over? Nothing is over until we decide it is.”
Well, all right then. When exactly is this coronavirus thing over?
Who decides when “over” is? Does it have to be all the way over, or will sort of over be good enough? Can it be over for some parts of the country but not others, for certain types of businesses but not others? What happens if it turns out that we think it’s over but the virus itself didn’t get the memo? Does someone have to declare the situation to be un-over after prematurely declaring it over?
A lot is riding on the answers to those questions—like trillions of dollars of economic activity and the physical and financial health of millions of families.
Americans are growing frustrated and impatient, their attitude fueled by the lack of solid, trustworthy information about even the basics of COVID-19, such as its origin, transmission vectors, lifespan or vulnerabilities. The symbol of the coronavirus epidemic should not be that image of a spikey puffball that accompanies so many news stories but the question mark.
They’ve been willing to wear masks and do the work-from-home social-distancing thing, even take on the task of home schooling, but they’re beginning to question the justification of such widespread societal upheaval. They may not be convinced of those measure’s effectiveness, they might not even know of someone who has contracted the virus, but they have to look no further than their employment status and their checkbook balance to see real impacts on their lives.
The response started with some individuals simply ignoring the stay-at-home directives, and some businesses trying to get themselves reclassified as essential. It is growing into a resistance movement of demonstrations and calls to relax or remove some or all of the restrictions so life can get back to normal—to declare the pandemic over.
Not that anyone has much sympathy to spare for politicians at the moment, but they are caught in a tricky spot. They’d certainly love to declare the pandemic over and be convinced that it is. As discussed in this space last week, revenue for government is slowing to a trickle while, at the other end of the reservoir, spending has blown through the dam. The longer they wait, the greater the number of businesses that won’t be around to reopen.
But to the extent their jobs entail protecting public health and safety, they’re wary of declaring victory and going home, only to have the feared second wave of coronavirus create a spike of new exposures, illnesses and deaths, and a re-imposition of restrictions.
Even declaring a date by which people can start going out and businesses can reopen is a risky endeavor. That gives people some hope that resolution is near. If that date has to be canceled or pushed back, the public mood will darken and people may be less inclined to follow directives. That’s why the savvier of public officials speak about relaxing restrictions only in the vaguest of terms.
Nonetheless, pressure is building to let businesses reopen and get people back to work. Small measures slowly phased in are most likely. The construction industry has been pushing to be allowed to restart projects that had been shut down as non-essential; the nature of work in that business lends itself to reopening with intensified social-distancing and protective-equipment measures in place.
The more of business that can be reopened, the faster that the gridlock that is gripping the local economy can be dissipated. Reopened businesses can pay their own employees as well as landlords, suppliers and vendors, each of whom can continue the flow of money to their own microeconomic network. But even here, risks and pitfalls abound. Go too fast and you run the risk of reigniting the virus’s spread. Go too slow and selectively and you inflame those sectors told to wait, who will fume “hey, how come them and not us?” Businesses, meanwhile, face legal liability from employees and customers should they reopen before the virus is truly gone.
We know the hurricane is over when the wind stops blowing, and that the blizzard is done when the snow and ice melt. COVID-19 will give no such clear signal that it’s done its worst, the danger is passed and people can get on with the task of repairing the damage. At some point, we’ll have to say “it’s over.” Whether it’s COVID-19 or the economy we’re saying is over, there’s another unanswered question for an already lengthy list.
▪ Aside no. 1: One segment of the economy that is poised to do incredibly well in the next year is that corner of the legal profession that focuses on contract law, especially for real estate. A whole lot of people who before now had never heard the term “force majeure” (“unforeseeable circumstances that prevent someone from fulfilling a contract”) are soon going to be debating its finer points.
▪ Aside No. 2 and a personal note. The quote leading off this column is incomplete. It omits one of the most famous lines in comic movie history: “Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?” uttered by seventh-year college student Bluto Blutarsky (played by John Belushi), reflecting the education that would propel him to a career as a United States senator (sorry for the spoiler). Use of that line from the movie “Animal House” in a column written for a newspaper led to a valuable lesson: never assume everyone shares the same base of cultural references. The day the column appeared in print, a scolding voice mail message chastised the writer for not knowing such an obvious piece of history as who really attacked Pearl Harbor. So if you have to explain the joke, probably best to skip it.
This story was originally published April 25, 2020 at 11:01 AM.