Tacoma ranks high for surviving a zombie apocalypse. But COVID? We have long way to go

Here’s a peculiar item you can file in Pierce County’s “good news, bad news” folder this week.

The good news: Tacoma is ranked the 15th best city in America to survive a dangerous, fast-spreading virus.

The bad news: That virus is not COVID-19.

In fact, there’s solid evidence that Tacoma and Pierce County leaders are falling behind in controlling the shape-shifting pathogen. It remains to be seen if they’ll muster the political will to make the kind of unpopular decisions — such as vaccine mandates or mask directives — that its neighbors have made in recent days.

I’ll come back to that shortly.

But first, you may wonder: What is the dangerous virus that Tacoma is allegedly well equipped to outlast? What is this infectious phenomenon that, not unlike COVID, can drive people into isolation, turn friends and family against each other, and flip global order upside down?

Why, a zombie apocalypse, of course.

The Tacoma area ranks favorably in several zombie-survival metrics, such as port and military base proximity, campsite and outdoor gear availability, and a generally hospitable environment for folks to live off the grid. At least if you believe the number crunchers at LawnLove.com

So we’ve got that going for us. We can feel good about our chances to fend off the walking dead, should they ever actually show up outside of a zombie movie or long-running cable TV series. Being ranked so high in a list of 200 US cities is no small feat. (Condolences to Jackson, Mississippi, and Laredo, Texas, ranked 199th and 200th, respectively.)

Tacoma also could form regional alliances to defeat the shambling, brain-infected hordes, given that three Western Washington cities rank in the Top 10 for zombie readiness — Bellevue (2), Vancouver (5) and Seattle (6).

But all of this is just a silly diversion from the real-world threat we can’t ignore.

COVID is burning again across the US, fueled by a frustrating slowdown in vaccinations and the frightening ability of this virus to adapt, as it has with the Delta variant.

Pierce County, meanwhile, can’t boast about leading the pack in how we’re handling this outbreak. Several local data points are trending in the wrong direction. On Friday, the 14-day rate of infection climbed to 355.4 cases per 100,000 people, more than five times what it was just a month ago.

On the vaccination front, the number of Pierce County residents getting shots has fallen sharply compared to spring and early summer — a bigger concern here than in the rest of the Puget Sound region because our vaccine rates remain so stubbornly low: Less than 59 percent of eligible residents 12 and older have gotten at least one dose, compared to the statewide rate of nearly 71 percent.

This is how viruses mutate into more easily transmissible versions. It’s also how people get ill and die. In Washington, more than 94 percent of COVID cases, hospitalizations and deaths involve eligible individuals who weren’t fully vaccinated.

This past week, Seattle’s mayor, the King County executive and Gov. Jay Inslee announced a vaccine mandate for hundreds of thousands of public employees and private healthcare workers, effective in October. Snohomish and Thurston counties enacted an immediate mask mandate for public indoor spaces.

At this point in the 16-month pandemic, count me among those who prefer local autonomy rather than a return to blanket statewide measures. It should be publicly debated and, if necessary, boldly exercised.

But so far, elected Tacoma and Pierce County officials are staying on the sidelines. Vaccine or mask mandates didn’t even come up for discussion at City Council or County Council meetings this week.

“We are deciding not to go that route at this time,” Mayor Victoria Woodards told me by text message Wednesday when I asked about a vaccine mandate. “The city manager has taken steps to minimize the number of people in the workplace. We are collecting data by asking employees to voluntarily share their vaccination status. We are exploring other opportunities to encourage vaccinations.”

Likewise, County Council chair Derek Young told me he’s not pushing council action on a vaccine mandate. “I think we should consider it,” he said in an email Tuesday, “but there doesn’t seem to be support at this time.”

It’s clear where the Gig Harbor Democrat stands personally. “Unvaccinated employees who directly contact the public put the people we serve at risk. I’m also concerned about our employees who are immune-compromised or can’t be vaccinated. We have a duty to protect them as well.”

For now, they’re trying a carrot rather than a stick. County Executive Bruce Dammeier has offered four hours of extra vacation time for employees to get inoculated.

Being cautious is understandable, to a point. Vaccinate-or-lose-your-job edicts will inflame COVID politics, which have sickened our nation’s soul while the disease has sickened its people. The sooner the FDA gives full approval to at least one vaccine, the sooner the healing can begin.

But local officials should take a page from the zombie apocalypse survivors’ field manual. Form regional alliances. Don’t buy into the philosophy of every man for himself (or every county for itself). Learn from the successes and mistakes of others. Take decisive action. Don’t stand still. Adapt like viruses do.

Heck, even the CDC has updated its 10-year-old Zombie Preparedness Guide, a tongue-in-cheek effort to get people to treat emergencies more seriously.

Because public health experts know what every scary movie fan knows: A monster rarely goes away quietly; it often resurfaces in more fearsome forms.

Opinion editor Matt Misterek leads The News Tribune Editorial Board. He can be reached at matt.misterek@thenewstribune.com