It’s been quite a week here in COVID-land.
Remember all the talk in the spring about a “second wave”? Well, here we are: Around the globe and across much of the U.S., reported cases of the coronavirus are spiking. So are associated hospitalizations and deaths, though not at the same rate as earlier in the year.
Governor Steve Bullock has responded to Montana’s increase by ratcheting up restrictions. He ordered restaurants and bars to operate at no more than 50% of capacity and to close nightly at 10 p.m., starting November 20; and limited public gatherings to 25 people, down from a previous maximum of 50, where social distancing isn’t possible.
Locally, nearly all of Jefferson County’s schools, facing various risks of exposure to the virus, have moved to virtual instruction for the rest of the month. Whitehall School Superintendent Hannah Nieskens reported that 25% of her staff, and 18% of on-site students, were either in isolation or quarantine.
And as its caseload mounts, the county Health Department has thrown in the towel on comprehensive contact tracing. On November 16, facing 84 active cases and 184 close contacts, Supervisor Pam Hanna wrote that, “we will no longer be able to call all close contacts for each diagnosed case” — though her staff will continue to reach out to household members of known cases and “high” risk contacts.
(An aside: Big thanks to Hanna’s team of nurses who have spent long days, evenings, and weekends trying to keep up with the growing numbers since September. Thanks as well to community members who have supported that effort by doing office work, bringing meals, and providing encouragement.)
Hanna’s announcement triggered a telling email back-and-forth. Kathy Rux, a Health Board member and former Boulder City Councilor, wrote: “I think we should think about shortening hours that businesses can be open and allowing a maximum of 20 people at an event, among other things. I was hoping that county residents would start acting responsibly so it wouldn’t come to this, but now I’m afraid that death will be the only thing that makes an impact, and I’m not sure that even that will have an impact on a lot of people.”
To which County Commission Chair Leonard Wortman replied: “I don’t think targeting businesses and events is the answer. Before I would consider agreeing to something like that, I would need to see the facts that would show it would make a substantial difference.”
He continued: “Unless we have facts that we can base our decisions on, we are just speculating on where and when people might be exposed. We need to do better than that. People’s livelihoods are on the line. Some of these businesses can’t survive another shutdown or decrease in their revenue, especially going into the winter months.
“We need to think long and hard about any decisions that affect other people. Keep in mind that if someone is uncomfortable about entering a business because of the virus, they have the option of not going or going into one they feel more comfortable with.”
I later spoke with Wortman about this exchange. Back in March, when the virus had barely touched the state, he criticized Bullock’s first round of restrictions as needless overreach. “The economic well-being of our citizens is not equal to the health and safety of people,” he acknowledged then. But it was too early, he said, to impose blanket closures on counties without any known cases. “What are you going to do later when you have 100 cases? You can’t open those businesses back up. You can’t until this thing is under control. How long is that going to be?”
In hindsight, Wortman had been right: There was little reason to shut down businesses in Jefferson County back then, when significant spread of the disease locally was still months in the future. And now, eight months later, the evidence that could inform sound policy decisions is still elusive. As Wortman points out, we know that sustained proximity to others can speed transmission — but it’s not clear how much safer a gathering of 25 people is than a meeting twice the size. Although a recent study of cell phone data associated with 98 million people indicated significantly higher risk of transmission for those who gather at restaurants and bars, we don’t know how big that risk is.
In an October 5 scientific brief, the Centers for Disease Control noted that, “SARS-CoV-2 [which causes COVID-19] is a new virus, and we are still learning about how it behaves.” Among other things, the CDC observed, it’s not well enough understood how effective ventilation and masking are against spread of the disease, or what conditions facilitate airborne transmission.
In a year, or five, we’ll have better answers to those questions. For now, lacking consistent guidance from the federal government, state and local leaders are left to hatch plans based on murky evidence and poor visibility into the future.
That’s frustrating. But it doesn’t justify the current inclination, among some, to reduce the COVID calculus to a matter of individual rights. In this view, we are rational people capable of deciding the right course for ourselves and those around us, based on our observations and some common sense. Or, as Wortman told me: “If you’re willing to take the risk of damaging your own health or that of others, that’s your responsibility.”
I disagree. A civil society, not to mention a vital democracy, depends on our willingness to hold our individual interests in tension with the common good. We consent to regulation of our activities in deference to shared norms and values, a sacrifice that comes with the privilege of citizenship. To be direct: We don’t get to do whatever we like when that poses a significant risk of harm to others.
The vexing paucity of evidence cuts both ways: While livelihoods are indeed on the line, so is public health. In the absence of better data, our responsibility is to err on the side of caution: We wear masks when around others, and we keep our distance. And we look forward, needless to say, to better times.
Enjoy a happy and safe Thanksgiving.
