Give it enough time, and every conversation these days comes around to the coronavirus.
Small talk feels out of place in the time of big issues, and “how’s it going?” just hasn’t felt right since about March. Talking about it feels as inescapable as the virus itself, especially with the numbers spiking to record highs in the past week.
So instead of small talk, I’ve started asking “the big question” I had posed to me recently — one that stopped me in my tracks.
“If you had the chance, would you snap your fingers and erase the coronavirus?”
Not just the virus, but the entire “2020” experience. If you had a chance to undo the last nine months and start over … would you?
First, the question contains some underlying privilege. The coronavirus has affected people along racial and economic lines, disproportionately harming those who can’t afford to quarantine or miss work. If you’ve lost a loved one or closed a business, that question probably has an easy answer — even more so in the current spike.
But I’ve been shocked at how many people have immediately — and certainly — answered no, they would not end the COVID nightmare.
For some, it’s because they’ve gained a new insight into a relationships or friendship, or a deeper appreciation for loved ones — even restaurants. Others have saved money or enjoyed working from home, or found themselves proud of a change they’ve made.
Drastic times can bring about drastic measures — sometimes taking the form of badly needed or overdue change.
And there have been some undeniable silver linings to the clouds.
Two studies found that air pollution in northern China, Western Europe and the U.S. decreased by as much as 60% in early 2020, compared to the same time last year. On the Wasatch Front, the University of Utah reported that car traffic dropped by as much as 50% in the first few weeks of the lockdown, and local PM 2.5 readings fell by 59%.
At a tipping-point moment for climate change, many are learning — not by choice — what kinds of sacrifices would really be needed, and what those changes feel like.
Here in Utah, trailheads and canyons have been packed, with more families enjoying the outdoors than in years past. Bike sales across Utah have been up, and according to the state’s Division of Parks and Recreation, attendance at state parks has been up by more than 50% compared to last May.
But 200,000 deaths in the U.S. — and nearly a million worldwide — are more than just the loss of life. Every number in that total leaves behind friends and family and pain and grief.
And lurking under the radar has been the “K-shaped recovery,” where the rich have gotten richer, but the poor and working-class have struggled mightily.
Nationally, there’s a bit of an “out of sight, out of mind” effect happening too.
Since the onset of the virus, Boston University has tracked how the media covers the outbreak. Coverage initially focused on the outbreak itself, giving way eventually to the economic consequences, the government response, sports, masks and eventually the most common story today: how it will impact November’s election.
On U.S. social media, the coronavirus is all but gone. A study reported by Axios found that social media interactions on stories about the coronavirus have dropped 88% since March, and Google searches are roughly equal to where they were in the last week of February. “We’re over COVID, even if it isn’t over us,” the article said.
Maybe it was inevitable. Humans are a remarkably adaptable species.
It only takes people an average of 66 days to form a new habit, according to a 2009 study, so many of the changes that were forced upon us back in March — for good or bad — have long since become “the new normal.”
What’s more important, the cloud or the silver lining? For some of us, the pain of the past nine months has been unbearable, and the question has an easy answer. To others, finding a sliver of joy amid the doom and gloom of 2020 is proof that we can adapt to just about anything.
So … what would you do?
Dio Tararrel is a writer, researcher and editor who lives in Salt Lake City.