After The Pandemic

Coronavirus. Quarantine. Social distancing. These words loom over our collective consciousness. The changes they have demanded have been massive. Shops shuttered, restaurants closed or offering take-out only, and employee shifts staggered so that only a minimum of people are working at any given time. Other areas of society are swamped. Whereas in March hospitals begged for supplies and first-aid responders saved their masks again and again to secure a protection that in other circumstances they take for granted, now we have a death toll that has caused significant tragedy throughout the world and especially for poor and underrepresented groups. Part of wrestling with the pain the pandemic has brought into our lives is to take time to address that pain in a caring and loving way, both for ourselves and for others.

These circumstances raise the question of how to think about the pandemic. People need care, but how do we give it to them? The World Health Organization recommends checking the news only a few times a day to protect our mental health. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recommend staying at home, avoiding close contact with others, and washing hands often. The US State Department strongly suggests that everyone avoid nonessential travel. Undoubtedly these recommendations will help us get through the current crisis, but their goal is to slow the spread of the virus so that our health system is not overtaxed or allow an outlet for anger over police brutality. The larger question of what this crisis means for society is still unanswered.

Recent op-eds discussing what to do or expect offer little solace, focusing instead on what’s practical. Forbes contributor Sarah Chamberlain says Americans should rebuild their infrastructure, repatriate manufacturing, and maintain control of their energy sector. Guardian columnist Van Badham says we should collectively guarantee social needs. Other writers speculate about a more nationalized world, a China-centric global order, a decline in polarization, and the rise of new spiritual practices. These suggestions gloss over how this crisis challenges us not just to rethink how we organize ourselves and act, but the nature of our existence. The pandemic has revealed how much we take for granted in our daily lives and has raised the question of what it means to be a human in the 21st century. It is an existential crisis.

We need to see our situation for what it is: a public health event unlike any we’ve faced before that affects every aspect of social life. It is the type of crisis Jean-Paul Sartre spoke of when he said, “Life has no meaning the moment you lose the illusion of being eternal.” We’ve been shown that our society—the one we believed in a few months ago—is such an illusion. Amidst this loss, we must ask not just what to do, but also “Who are we now?” The urge will be to push this question away. Refuse to do so. While the pain of asking it is hard to endure, it is the pain many societies and heroes underwent before achieving something great. St. Paul, Joan of Arc, and St. Aquinas grappled with it before devoting their lives to Christianity. Mahatma Gandhi and Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. confronted it constantly while advocating nonviolence. Ghana, Algeria, Tanzania, and a host of other countries went through such a transition as they decolonized themselves.

To some this may sound like the pontificating of a privileged philosopher with nothing to lose, and be insulting to those who have lost much. The hurt caused by the pandemic is massive. I cannot begin to comprehend the despair of those who have lost loved ones or jobs. My goal in this piece is not to diminish such loss, but offer ideas and practices that have helped me through the most difficult times in my life. The ideas are not meant to be prescriptive or universal. I seek only to share what has worked for me in the hopes that it may work for others. I have learned much from listening to how others have handled the pain of the pandemic; this piece is only meant to add to that growing collection of voices whose words can provide solace in these difficult times.

Another topic worthy of discussion, but which I feel incapable of addressing in this piece, is the significant injustice created by the disproportionate harm caused to communities of color and the poor. I must hear these voices to understand the horrific toll our massively unfair society is taking on them.

You may ask, “Well, what great thing can we accomplish during this pandemic?” It’s a good question with at least two answers. We can solve the greatest global medical emergency in a generation. And we can leverage our efforts to reshape society in a way that addresses entrenched and long-lasting problems.

If these goals sound implausible, you are not considering the full implications of the coronavirus. While undoubtedly tragic, the pandemic also offers opportunities. The Dalai Lama says, “Tragedy can be utilized as a source of strength.” It is possible, here and now, amidst all the strife and anxiety, to build a stronger community. The first step is to embrace the fact that the virus is already changing our lives.

Many people are unfortunately attempting to hold onto what was. Beachgoers defend their rejection of social distancing by referencing their desire for an exciting life. “I’m not saying I can’t die from it,” said one spring break reveler at Panama City Beach, Florida. “I just don’t want to stop living my life because you only have one. YOLO: You only live once.” Meanwhile, some politicians think business as usual will suffice. Texas Governor Greg Abbott rejects strict public health guidelines, saying “What may be right for places like the larger urban areas may not be right for the more than 200 counties that still have zero cases of COVID-19.” Such statements betray an unwillingness to let go of beliefs and lifestyles that no longer serve. These views will do significant damage to others. Holding to them is both selfish and dangerous. It places personal privilege above the lives of others.

Saying we need to change is one thing. How can we convince ourselves to do so? We can start with the impermanence of the self. Buddhism’s first Noble Truth, “Life is inherently dissatisfying,” tells us that we will never be comfortable with any set of thoughts or situation. No matter what we cling to, whether it be our perfect body, ideal house, or favorite book, they all pass away over time. Even things we can revisit are never experienced the same way twice. Yet the dissatisfaction I feel when reflecting on all I can never do again is soothed by acceptance. We should embrace change and attend to the needs of our current society. Holding on to our pasts—both social and personal—prevents action in the present. Theravada Buddhism says, “The disciple understands that the expression ‘I feel’ has no validity except as a conventional expression (vohāravacana); he understands that, in the absolute sense (paramattha), there are only feelings, and that there is no Ego, no experiencer of the feelings.” The society we had previously and the person we were in it are gone; they were just illusions anyway. Holding to them now, regardless of the evidence, focuses us on problems when our focus should be on care. We end up fighting those we should work with and advocating harmful practices because we think we can bring back what we’ve lost. We reject compassion for complacency. But going back was never an option. The way forward is based on an acceptance of where we are now.

To some, this may sound like giving up. Nothing is further from the truth. To accept change is to act. Friedrich Nietzsche knew that one grows by overcoming trials. He agrees that we must accept change and encourages us to seek opportunities which bring it about. For Nietzsche, to flee challenge is to flee greatness. Nietzsche heaped scorn on philosophies that sought to eradicate suffering by seeking happiness. “Humanity is becoming smaller,” he said, and these “[philosophies of happiness] are making it smaller!” Is a life of monotony, sameness, impotence, and spiritual poverty what we really desire? The “discipline of suffering, of great suffering” is “the sole cause of every enhancement in humanity so far!” Look at history, and you see great institutions developing out of strife. Look at your life, and the same is true.

We are confronted with “great suffering” now. Should we pretend that everything is okay, or will be so regardless? Or should we use the opportunity to end the deadliest worldwide pandemic in the era of globalization? The latter isn’t possible if we’re focused on the past. US culture is filled with paeans to the founding fathers for their bravery, Abraham Lincoln for his fortitude, and the Greatest Generation for their resilience. We often believe that the only way to be great like them is to be like them, so we adopt their policies, practices, and lifestyles. This path is a dead end, for we will never be the past. For Nietzsche, such veneration is “concept idolatry” and a “danger to everything [it] worship[s].” If we want to measure up to the past, we must do as they did: embrace the change. Our national heroes and heroines didn’t get caught up in the past; neither should we. If we respond thoughtfully, bravely, and with respect for others, future generations will be inspired by us.

Sounds appealing, you say, but how can we help under quarantine? Isn’t it dangerous to help? The response to the virus need not only take the form of volunteering. It can also use our uncertainty and confusion to address new questions. Judith Butler argues for the unattainable, saying “If hope is an impossible demand, then we demand the impossible.” Alain Badiou writes of May ’68 that “an impossible upheaval was taking place” which created the conditions for the impossible to become real.

Our understanding of what’s possible is historically and socially conditioned, and when conditions shift new ideas emerge. What is impossible in one context becomes possible in another. “What is” is not the same as “what is necessary.” When we see the limits, we can imagine ways beyond them, and in doing so begin to achieve the impossible. Already we see such a movement happening. Before the pandemic, we lived in a very different context which is now changing. The idea that a Republican-led federal government would hand out the greatest social welfare bill in history was laughable just months ago, as was the idea that the presumptive Democratic nominee would spend a significant part of an election year campaigning from home; now it is hard to imagine otherwise. The economy is shifting to focus on human needs like food, shelter, and health care, rather than luxuries. Governments and private companies are refusing to evict tenants or shut off basic services. As our expectations are challenged by our situation, previously radical ideas become mainstream. What else that we previously considered impossible might we now be able to do?

I suggest three ideas for maintaining a healthy attitude. First, we must not run from the consequent changes of COVID-19 pandemic. Imagine embracing this inescapable crisis as a trial unlike any in the past. Imagine creating our own inspiration, here and now, in ourselves.

Second, refocus on the most important goals. We will never be what we were, so every action should be measured by how well it brings us—all of us—to a better place. If we want to get people working and the economy moving, we can seek to do so in a way that provides everyone the jobs, security, and health care they deserve. We must try to align with values like justice, freedom, equality, and love.

Finally, revisit entrenched problems and ask how the current circumstances may help us solve them. Problems like racism, sexism, warfare, and oppression are perpetuated in part by our allegiance to specific group interests. As the entire world is facing the pandemic together, adversaries have a reason to address differences and build cooperation. International bodies like the World Health Organization, United Nations, and International Monetary Fund are taking a lead, and on the local level, people are forming relationships in their communities, embracing mutual aid, and helping disadvantaged groups. We would be fools not to continue to grow these networks to address our shared problems, such as climate change.

After the pandemic, we will not be where we were or where we are now. It’s understandable to feel anxiety about what’s lost and what’s coming. As tragic as this crisis is, we are being given a once-in-a-generation opportunity. Let’s lean into the change that’s happening. It will be easier—and the potential reward greater—if everyone commits both to taking this step and helping others do the same.

You want to make yourself, America, and the world great again? Now’s your chance.

Photo: A series of white circles 10 feet (3.0 m) in diameter, spaced 8 feet (2.4 m) apart, are painted on the grass at Mission Dolores Park in San Francisco to encourage social distancing on Memorial Day, May 25, 2020 during the COVID-19 pandemic. (Photo by Christopher Michel via Wikimedia Commons)

Nathan Eckstrand

Nathan Eckstrand is a Visiting Assistant Professor at Sam Houston State University. He was previously a Visiting Assistant Professor at Fort Hays State University and Marian University, and before that a Merton Teaching Fellow at Mercyhurst University in Erie, PA.  Nathan previously served as editor-in-chief of the APA Blog, where he has worked since 2017. His dissertation, written under Fred Evans and defended in September 2014, is called “The Event of Revolution: Theorizing the Relationship between the State and Radical Change” and studies concepts of revolution from the Early Modern period to the present day.  Nathan is also co-editor of Philosophy and the Return of Violence: Essays from this Widening Gyre, and has published articles on Deleuze, Foucault, Fanon, and Said. His most recent book, Liberating Revolution: Emancipating Radical Change from the State, is now available from SUNY Press.