Corona. It’s a whole new world.
Saturday 23rd May 2020
Disclosure. This post – really it is an article – is political. If you don’t like political posts, wait until I get my finger out and finally get back to the knitting. That may be a while. Since it’s my website and my blog, I am free to use it in this way, but I wanted to warn you before you set out. I have always said that this is a blog written by a knitter, not a knitting blog. You may well not agree with some (or any) of my political conclusions, and that’s fine. You might not agree with some (or any) of my other conclusions about human behaviour. That’s less fine, but if you want to read on, let’s see how that goes, shall we?
Thinking deeply and at length about things, exploring the logical steps of any processes that might be involved, and especially thinking about how I am reacting to situations, is one of the – for me – few benefits of Corona lock down. I use the word ‘benefits’ very loosely, because I really don’t think there are any, personally. I am setting aside the clear environmental improvements, because they are almost certainly temporary.
I note, however, than some other people do think that there are, and have enjoyed, Corona benefits. So, one of the areas where I began thinking deeply about Corona was the way people react to it. We are of course, still deep in the midst of it, and in fact, probably very close to the start of what a more on-trend writer than me would call our ‘Corona journey’. This – and I am not using the word journey to describe something that is clearly not a journey, but is more accurately, a period of time, the length of which we currently cannot predict – is going to go on for a long while. And that is one of the reasons why reactions that I observe, and those I experience, are so interesting to me.
This is not a holiday which, two days in, and with twelve more days looming ahead, you already bitterly regret. We cannot grit our teeth and tell ourselves with absolute and comforting certainty, that our time in Italy with the friends we believed would be ideal holiday companions but who we now find to be demented board-game players; or in Spain chez family members with whom we had never spent more than a mildly fractious weekend, will soon be over. It won’t. No-one gets to trundle their holiday suitcase away from Corona, and wave it goodbye, vowing – perhaps out loud, in the sanctuary of the taxi home – never to repeat that experiment. No. Corona is here to stay. It is your new parent-in-law, your new house-mate, your new life companion. We had better get used to it.
The first conclusion I am beginning to draw, is that whatever we were before Corona swept us into this new world, that essence of ourselves has become even more distilled – more concentrated – during this time. I do not think that ‘good’ people have somehow become less good, or ‘bad’ people (a difficult and pejorative word, but for now it will have to do) have become good. No-one has fundamentally changed. Our lives have changed, our routines, norms, jobs, dreams, and even for many, our health, have probably changed a lot, maybe forever. But we, at our core, remain, I believe, still true to whatever that core always really was. Only now, it is more focused, or perhaps for some, less well camouflaged.
I think I learned this lesson in the very early days of Corona. I have really only recently properly processed it though. Do you remember that week, when the schools had all been slammed shut, and we were told not to go out much, to please not bother the GP or worse, a hospital; not to go to the shops or the pubs, or sporting events, or to meet people? Only, all the pubs and shops were open, along with – and this is the real point – the holiday destinations. That week, before real lock down, which was in March but might as well have been in the last century, was perhaps the first significant glimpse of what was to become the Government’s future approach to the crisis. It was absolutely demented. The startling lack of clarity, logic, and common sense was really shocking. Sadly this was not to be an aberration. The Government has at least been consistent in its approach to plague-management. Consistently dire.
What that week really taught me was how badly so many people reacted. This was a minority, but a significant enough number to cause a crisis. For the first time ever, parents could legally take their school age children away on holiday – or even a long weekend – in the UK, without paying an eye-watering supplement for accommodation during school holiday time. And they came. In their tens of thousands, they swarmed the South West, Wales, National Parks, Scotland, the east coast – where ever there was a holiday park, a caravan site, an Air B&B, or a tent pitch, they formed a human avalanche of gleeful Corona virus holiday makers. And that completely repelled me. It was disgusting.
I have children. I understand the impotent rage that parents feel when they observe the staggering jump in prices, for the same holiday, only just a week or so later. The supplement charged by holiday providers during school holiday periods is just one unappealing side effect of the free-market economy. Suddenly, there was this freedom. With no thought whatsoever for the impact their behaviour would have on the areas to which they flocked, they came, they ground the roads and infrastructure to a halt – and they literally terrified local residents. Very few of the people who did this would, I believe, ever own that their actions were repellent and irresponsible. Mainly because it is hard to own that sort of label, but also because what they did was, in that awful week, not illegal. And that is the crux of this thought process. So many people did these things – and others since lock down – because they felt ‘allowed’. I think of it as entitled. They felt entitled, and that is all that counted.
On the morning of the day of real lock down, which was announced that night by the Prime Minister with as much resemblance to Churchillian gravitas and intellectual rigour as I would exhibit to Darcy Bussell’s consummate grace if we both attempted Swan Lake, I had a telephone appointment with a solicitor who is based in Burnham-on-Sea. We had planned a face-to-face meeting but the week beforehand, we agreed it would happen on the ‘phone because I was unwell and isolating.
We concluded our business, and then talked briefly about the Corona virus and its growing impact. At one point, this woman, who I really do not know well at all, became obviously emotional, and so I gently asked her if she was alright. She was not. She lives in Brean, which is a very small village about 5 miles along the coast from Burnham. Brean is interesting. It has only one road in – and therefore out. At the end of Brean is Brean Down, a geological full-stop , the tip of the Mendips that falls into the sea, there at Brean. There is no way round it, so you have to just turn round and go back.
The road from Burnham to Brean is a narrow ribbon of B road, much of it with no pavements, and as you get closer to Brean, the more numerous become the holiday parks. There are literally tens of thousands of caravan park places and static homes on dozens of sites which range from modest to Machiavellian. Almost no-one farms there now, as the burgeoning crop is holiday homes. It’s not pretty. It’s not St Ives. It’s almost urban with its ranks of drive and walk-ways, and the military precision of the placing of the homes within them, flanking both sides of the little lane that leads to the Down.
Every year, from Easter to mid-October, Brean is busy, peaking in the July and August weeks of course. The local population of a few hundred, swells to tens of thousands. Brean, and the local area is used to this. It copes. We all stay away, and the many pubs and cafes roar through the summer. The infrastructure mainly just about copes. That is of course, dependent on the calculated risk that almost all the visitors will not need to see a GP or visit the local hospital at the same time time.
Now, here they all were, only it was March and it wasn’t planned. It wasn’t orderly. The solicitor I was talking to lives on that road to Brean. She lives there with her elderly and very high-risk mother who had already been ordered to shield for at least 12 weeks. And throughout that week, a week that I think we can all look back upon and see as fateful, she watched the road become choked with virus-tourists, the cafes overflow, the shops burst at the doors. Now, what is the point of laying all that responsibility on an 80 year old woman and her bread-winning daughter who at the same time, had to go to work every day that week in Burnham, and mingle because it was unavoidable, with thousands of people from the Midlands, Wales, anywhere? It was their responsibility – that mother and daughter – to try and avoid the potentially infectious Corona tourists. It was not, apparently, the responsibility of the holiday makers to stay at home. And so though I know obviously many did stay at home, so many did not. They either did not think about their responsibility, or they didn’t care. Because it was legal.
What, I wondered then and I still do, went through their heads, these caravan owners, the renters, the second home owners? Some reasoned – and I know this because I asked some of them or they sent me angry messages in reaction to my Face Book activity – that they were not sick. Had they been sick, they would have stayed at home. Let us allow that to pass for the truth, but only because I have no actual proof to the contrary, only a strong suspicion that people who will behave like that, in the first wave of what was to become the horror of the UK’s Corona experience, might also pretend to be fine even if they weren’t, because they deserved their holiday. The real point is that there will have been people in that crush who were contagious, whether they knew it or not, and they will have passed some contagion on, both to locals, and to other people on holiday. They can then go home, and become unwell with the benefit of capacious and well-performing NHS hospitals in London, Birmingham, and along the M4 corridor. We still only have Weston, or Taunton. That’s it.
I then turned to the thought process of the holiday providers. You don’t need me to guide you through that. It’s pretty straightforward and obvious, albeit unedifying.
The following week, prompted only by the escalating holiday chaos, and a grimly rising set of numbers, the real lock down was announced in the tone of a head teacher being more disappointed than angry with his errant people. But here, in our little petri-dish of viral experimentation, the holiday places remained open, and most of the Corona tourists stayed put. There began, here and in a lot of vulnerable places, concerted campaigns to get the holiday parks, lets and hotels closed and to force the tourists to go home. I was a very vocal part of that campaign in Somerset. Now you see peoples’ true colours – when you directly challenge them. Which I did. I rang and emailed dozens of local holiday providers, large and small, and I encouraged many others to do the same. I lobbied so-called powerful politicians and influencers, including website platforms. One shocking thing was the number of local holiday cottage providers, some of whom were on huge platforms such as Air B&B who actively marketed themselves as ‘isolation holiday destinations’.
I would like every single person who swarmed to their second home, or grabbed a bargain rental at the time, and every provider especially those who advertised as isolation refuges, to ask themselves this: what did you do, during Corona, that makes you feel proud – or ashamed? Because if they fancied a cheap Corona holiday, or a nice long spell of ‘working from the holiday home’ and thought that this was acceptable, decent behaviour on any level, they should not feel proud. And if they provided the accommodation, that’s worse.
As with so many things during Corona, there will and should be exceptions. Exceptions based on humane, decent foundations such as the need to care for, or shelter with someone who needs you, or who you need. I do feel very strongly that adult children should have been free to come ‘home’ for example and I hope they did. That families which needed to re-group and be together, should have been able to do that and I hope they did – I wish we had. But beyond this, there is really no excuse.
Some of the many slogans chucked about in this time are: ‘stay at home’, now replaced by: ‘stay alert’; and ‘be kind’. Let’s break these down. The first is very clear and powerful, with no room for doubt, because stay home is a plain statement. In fact, it was an order, and I fully supported it. But some people didn’t want to stay home. They were not content with a single dose of outdoor exercise, and in some cases, I can see why. For example, people with no access to private or safe outside space such as a garden of their own. I think it was inhumane not to state clearly that these people could go out more than once a day for exercise. And people with large dogs – one walk is not enough and it’s cruel. I mean, my lazy dogs were horrified at the thought of even one hour a day, but they are not young, energetic dogs who just have to run or walk miles. But largely, stay home worked. The majority of people did not abuse it, but we know some did, with no excuse.
‘Stay alert’ is much more problematic. Not least because it is nonsense. It is absolutely obvious if someone is, or is not, at home. But their level of alertness is impossible to gauge. And it’s very subjective. How alert? And alert to what? I am alert to the stupid and selfish behaviour of people directly around me, and I take evasive action. But in what other ways ought we to be alert? There is obviously no answer to this, and this is a deliberate part of the Government’s thought process. With the introduction of this tiny phrase, the emphasis has immediately been switched away from Government and onto ourselves. It is now our responsibility. If the numbers begin to climb – as I think they will – this will be our fault, because we failed to be alert enough. In fact though, most of us are completely unable to influence this, if once again, tens of thousands of people swarm the coastal towns again, and they are doing so. The solicitor and her mother, in Brean, are back at square one. And so they have to stay in, while thousands of visitors clog up the roads and facilities again.
‘Be kind’ is not directly linked to Corona but it is being touted all the time now. It’s more widely used and is a sickening result of tragedies such as the death by suicide of Caroline Flack. At face value, be kind is very easy to understand. Don’t be nasty, cruel, mean, or unjust. Humans really ought not to need this sort of reminder. But what does it really mean? I think this is meant to be a local level piece of advice, for example, ask a neighbour if they need anything; or join a community group to support vulnerable people during this pandemic. Or just smile and say hello when you pass someone. Surely though, we all already do these things? It really ought to be expanded to mean: don’t be dicks, you tabloid gutter-press rats? What ‘be kind’ does not mean, is give every single person a pass on bad behaviour because it’s unkind to do otherwise. ‘Be kind’ does not encompass turning a blind eye. It is not – or ought not to be – a cloak of free-passage to do as we please. It ought not to fetter speaking the truth. And it encourages even worse behaviour.
As I write this post, the news of Dominic Cummings and his 250 mile dash in late March from London to Durham, has just hit the press. In summary, he has had Corona virus and while he was in the early stages of the illness, he drove from London to his parent’s house. With his family. This was during full lock down. In doing this, he breached several Corona emergency powers. As it stands, today, it appears that there has been no police action (in terms of prosecution, for example); and it looks as if the PM will not sack him. Here is a stark example of a privileged thought process, in full spate, during Corona. DC is in a position of great power, and privilege. He will certainly have been instrumental in drafting the Corona laws, and be very familiar with their scope. And yet, he decided that he was a special case and is, as I understand it, citing ‘child care’ needs. In fact, he is simply exercising his self-conferred right to ignore the law, because he is special. As is, in their own eyes, everyone who has flouted, broken, bent, or cleverly circumnavigated the Corona laws and guidance. His thought process won’t have been complex. To him, I am sure, it is absolutely self-evident that the law does not apply to him. I doubt if he thought about it at all.
In my view, everything in society is political. And Corona is certainly no exception, indeed, it may arguably be the most politically charged event in living history. It is no mystery, or coincidence, that Corona fatalities in the UK (and everywhere) are highly concentrated among poorer, densely-populated, and politically ‘unimportant’ areas and groups of people. And this includes a generation of care-home residents, and the marginalised, badly rewarded, unprotected and unrecognised staff of these homes, who were, quite consciously left to struggle and see how that went, by the Government. They even tried to leave out the appalling numbers of infections and deaths. They tried, in effect, to rub them out. Red line them out of the story. Until it just got too big. Why? Because, as even Chris Whitty said, it was always going to be difficult, managing that sector; but mainly I believe, it was because they have no power and therefore, it was an expendable rump. Maybe the Government panicked, or forgot, or even worse, took a decision to look away.
And that’s why I no longer clap for the NHS or key-workers on Thursday nights. I did. It was emotional, uniting, visceral: the human need to just somehow show how very much we love, and are grateful for these people. But now I don’t because, though I do sometimes say ‘after the war’, it’s not a war. Johnson didn’t ‘fight’ and ‘win’ against Corona. The NHS pulled him through, possibly the same NHS staff who he voted against on pay, in the austerity years. They just did their jobs, incredible and daunting though that work is. I would far rather see a tangible commitment to them, and to the NHS, and to an integrated health and social care system, then see Johnson out on the street, clapping. Which brings me circling back to my belief that Corona isn’t changing anything, really, in terms of fundamental core values. I do not believe managing our national response to Corona, even including the Prime Minister’s own traumatic experience, shows any sign of changing the core set of values and beliefs that drives the Government. Let’s return to Dominic Cummings. His behaviour was exactly what I would have expected, only it’s more distilled and shocking because it is viewed through the lens of Corona.
Almost everyone I know, and know of, has consistently done the right thing. And that is the hardest thing of all, in many cases, as we can’t all be ‘heroes’. It was – and continues to be – just staying in. Not seeing our friends, or our families. How hard that has been for some people – and yet they have done it. I know for others, it has been easier, maybe because they have a life style that is well adapted to it, or all the people they need, want and love are already with then, or they have no reason to worry about their income. But we’ve (almost) all done our absolute best, and struggled with our private demons as best we could. Can. It continues.
It is now legal in England to travel an unlimited distance to exercise. Ambling from your car to the beach and sitting on your arse for 4 hours doesn’t count as exercise by the way. So I can’t ask people to go home on the grounds of illegality. I can only appeal to them, to please go home, please don’t set out, it really is still closed here, and as it stands we can’t go out to our own local areas because it’s so crowded. I know most decent people are not flocking to Weston-super-Mare or Devon, but too many are – and I get it. I understand the pent up need to get away. But it’s too soon, and if the Government can’t do the decent and scientifically valid things, then we have to be more adult, more caring, and more compassionate to each other – by simply staying away.
I have a very strong family view on the Cummings situation(debacle). On day 2 of lockdown I had the difficult conversation with a family member – he and his wife are both medical professionals who knew they were going to be in daily close contact with C-19 positive patients, in one case as an anaesthetist (intubation) and the other A&E triage/surgery. They have two children under 8. The difficult conversation was to ask how long it would take me to get to their house to look after the children if/when both parents were hospitalised, oh and by the way, our we’ve written our wills, there at xx solicitors. I thought for a bit and said, well 3 hours, and of course I would look after the children, then I had the horrible realisation it was probably not a “necessary” journey and that if I did make it I’d be crossing households. so we agreed that we’d just have to hope for the best. Probably the hardest conversation I’ve ever had. How is my situation different from Mr Cummings’?
I think – had the parents or even one of them, been ill – your journey to care for the children would be an essential journey.
It differs from Cummings in almost every way. First, you and your family talked about it. And you applied thought, moral issues and logic to it. You didn’t assume you had some sort of immunity from the law, conferred by who knows what power. Second, you would have had, were it to be needed (God forbid) a crucial role to care for little ones AND support key workers.
The world in which Cummings is a key worker or even a bit part player, in Corona, doesn’t exist. As a person, a father, son, partner, friend – he’s allowed to own that space, as a human being. But in corona terms – nope. He’s worse than irrelevant. He’s toxic.
So. You would have had a powerful case, to go, care, provide. He had zero case. He just fancied it. And he’s entitled to it. Looks like he got away with it. But we won’t forget. Johnson is tainted – even more than he was – by his cowering reliance on Cummings, a repellent man in any scenario let alone leading us (as he is) through a pandemic.
I agree wholeheartedly you have expressed just how I feel… I’m still stay at home, one proper walk a day and shop only for essentials…. others do not…
Ali, you’re right it’s far too soon to end the lock down. It would appear these days that people fee they have an entitlement and that’s it’s their absolute right to do and behave as they want. No, they don’t. Our view is that Costa Del Ourgate is where we’ll be staying. To now encourage people to drive wherever they like is completely ridiculous. We leave our home once a fortnight to collect meat and eggs, the rest is delivered. How on earth is Weston-Super-Mare going to cope with hordes of tourists, with no public toilets open and the majority of cafes and restaurants still closed. Doesn’t bear thinking about. As you say, the term Stay Alert is just plain daft. Alert to what? Oh, that man has turned green, he must be ill, better avoid him. It’s all been badly handled and ill thought out. No-one will be safe, until if and when we have a vaccine. By the way, I’m slowly but surely making progress with the beaded Trellis Scarf.
Well said Ali, I’ve only just read this and found it still totally relevant and highly prescient. I’m always grateful to people who can articulate my rage and frustration.
I wrote to my MP on three subjects this year: holiday homes and tourists; food vouchers for children; DC’s covid-infected jaunt. His responses were always complacent and unconcerned.
Your focus on entitlement is important and partly explains why the government seems to be able to promote and reward their cronies and at the same time ignore the people who are so disproportionately affected by the pandemic, in health, financial and educational terms. The most pernicious lie of the year has been ‘We’re all in this together.’