COVID-19: A Chance to Reassess the Social Contract
Growing up, I used to love watching my parents’ light candles with matches. The dancing flames within a cloud of grey, capable of releasing delightful scents.
Later, it would also intrigue me how this seemingly harmless spark, which leapt and danced so innocently, had the potential to grow into something more sinister. How, in the right conditions, a spark can grow into a raging inferno and immolate anything in its way.
The same can be said for COVID-19.
You see, merciless flames don’t discriminate in what they engulf; neither does a virus.
A fire captivates the onlooker. Stops them in their tracks. Merciless as it may be, fire is kind enough to provide a warning, to give a signal of its presence. The chemical energy compressing the air rapidly and transforming into something we can see, fear and run.
ARS-CoV-2, the virus behind COVID-19, is much slyer. Like any virus, it thrives only in the cells of another living thing. It exists only to find more hosts to mark and replicate its genetic material. A virus is invisible. Quite the opposite of a fire and yet, no fire in the history of mankind has been quite as successful in creating a world-wide inferno of panic in such a small window of time.
Perhaps invisibility. You can easily see an incoming fire but COVID-19 has no face. That is, if we do not count the empty shopping shelves and curfew text message alerts to stay indoors. In this climate of constantly changing regulations, how do we conceptualise what is happening? How will it affect future generations? How will it affect us?
One thing is for sure, although the global sentiment created by COVID-19 is widespread (a world-wide reason for missed days of work, errands left unattended, and days spent in comfy sweats) the impact is not.
While some are stuck in cramped quarantined facilities, others quarantine in lavish homes. A friend, recently diagnosed with Lymphoma, told me how she is confined to her cramped New York apartment – alone. At a time of immense fear and vulnerability, the only physical touch she receives is through a tube delivering her chemotherapy. This is someone’s reality.
Not all realities are equal, and some have been made more painful, such as those who are immune compromised, working on the frontlines or those stuck in abusive household. Take support helplines, since March 2020, helplines for domestic violence victims have doubled in calls. [1]
As the situation unfolds, there is a dire need to recognise that some of us have it worse than others. For those of us doing okay, we should extend care to others. For those of us that are not, put yourself first and then, where you can, do the same. After all, as Epictetus, a Stoic philosopher said, “We are not defined by what happens to us, but by how we choose to respond.”
Start with your neighbour. Check in with them and ask them how they are – although do make sure you do this 2m apart. Give donations to charities working at the forefront of the crisis. Organize a Zoom catch up with a childhood friend you’ve been meaning to reach out.
As the world comes to terms with this new pace, there is opportunity for reflection. What do we wish for ourselves, our community, and our society? Will we look back at this time and remember panic and disharmony? Or will it be empathy and kindness?
Fire may generate pain and hardship, but it can also generate warmth and togetherness. Yes, some of us, will be left more affected than others – but how we leverage the resources and privilege availability to us, will determine how we collectively emerge on the other side.
1 2020, Bureau of Statistics
