An absolutist grapples with ambiguity

I just don't have a hard-and-fast take on what society should do about the pandemic

I’m an absolutist about nearly everything. You’ll rarely hear me say, “I blow hot and cold on that.” From the immutable principles that form the core of my worldview to opinions on less weighty matters, my takes are generally hard and fast.

Jesus is Lord.

A properly dressed cheeseburger sports mayonnaise, a sautéed onion slice, red-leaf lettuce and two dill pickle slices, nothing more and nothing less.

A good or service is worth what buyer and seller agree that it’s worth. Period. No other entity has any business being involved in arriving at that agreement - certainly not government.

There are only two genders.

None of the Beatles’ post-1970 output as solo artists is even one billionth as good as their 1958 - 1969 collective output in that ensemble.

But I’ve noticed something interesting in the last few weeks. As public opinion about the coronavirus has gelled into two basic positions, I’m squarely on the fence about how society ought to proceed.

The two basic positions are as follows:

1.) We ought to completely reopen society and the economy, yet this afternoon. This argument hinges on one or more of these assertions: that the virus's impact on public health has been way overblown, that herd immunity will render the virus trivial, that the toll the lockdown is taking on our economy and people’s basic mental health is too great to bear anymore, or that we're big boys and girls who have the constitutionally protected liberty to decide what risk level we're willing to assume for ourselves.

2.) That any reopening must be very, very gradual and we must be prepared to reverse course at a moment’s notice if cases spike as a result of any steps we take to reopen.

There’s a lot of validity to both positions.

There are a lot of yay-hoos and tinfoil-hat types that embrace Position One (there’s a hard-and-fast opinion for you), but its also has many thoughtful, compassionate adherents. And lots of compelling data backs it up. A Kelton Global study finds that 72 percent of Americans say they’d really and truly crack up if they had to remain in lockdown until mid-June.

But there’s also data that makes a strong case for Position Two.

Japan, a traditionally go-getter nation that greatly values productivity, is extending its lockdown through the end of this month due to the persistence of COVID-19’s spread. Georgia, a state that moved particularly aggressively to reopen, is experiencing a growing outbreak in its northeastern portion.

It would be immensely helpful if we could all find a way to cut everyone else some slack. The key fact we all need to face is that we’ve never been here before. This is unprecedented in our nation’s - indeed, the world’s - history. The great plagues that beset humankind in times past all happened before the world had become dependent on the advanced technology that permeates our daily life. (I recently re-read the diary of Samuel Pepys, and my sense from his account of the 1665 London plague is that people just lived with rising daily death tolls for months on end and went about their business with no particular sense of urgency.) The closest experience we’ve had to the current situation was the 1918 Spanish flu pandemic, and there was indeed a second wave, and it was a doozy.

I think most states’ plans for reopening strike a responsible balance between society’s two main concerns. So here’s a suggestion: how about we give our particular state’s program a try and see how it goes? After all, the goal is to get the state back to some semblance of normalcy. How about not casting aspersions or suspecting public-policy or public-health officials of nefarious intent? How about extending a little grace and goodwill?

If things go terribly wrong, it may be appropriate to finger-point and yell, but we don’t know that that is going to be the result. It may go well!

It’s true that our leaders, particularly our unfit president, (there’s another hard-and-fast opinion for you) need a crash course in effective crisis communication. They have much to learn about not over-reassuring, forthrightly proclaiming uncertainty, validating their own and the public’s emotions, giving people something to do, admitting and apologizing for errors, and sharing dilemmas.

I can get pretty worked up over matters on which I have absolutist positions, but with regard to this, I’m a bit surprised at how, except for a few meltdowns in mid-to-late March, I’ve remained relatively calm. I think to a considerable degree that’s because of my unshakable embrace of the first of the hard-and-fast positions I gave as examples at the outset of this piece. There’s a sovereign Creator with a plan and a house with many mansions, and this story, for all of the high drama that occurs along the way, ends in an unsurpassably satisfactory way.