Covid-19: more complex than the gordian knot | thearticle

In times of crisis, the temptation to seize on simple solutions seems irresistible. The metaphor to which we often resort when faced with an intractable challenge is that of “cutting the

Gordian knot”. By using his sword rather than struggling to unravel the knot in Gordium, Alexander the Great became ruler of Asia. Yet though he thereby fulfilled a prophecy, Alexander’s

life was short and his empire died with him. Complex questions usually require equally complex answers. The knottiest problems cannot be solved by the sword, but only by applying knowledge

and intelligence. So it is with the coronavirus pandemic. The problems it has thrown up are vast and complex. Everywhere we look, solutions are on offer. And because our leaders (whom we,

after all, have elected) do not plump for these simple, indeed simplistic, solutions, we become frustrated and in some cases angry. In the United States, demonstrators march against the loss

of their liberties. Yet nobody prevents them from doing so; methinks the lady doth protest too much. President Trump does indeed have the gift of making complex things seem simple. But that

does not mean he is right. His response to Covid-19 has been to blame everyone but himself, with measures that veer from libertarian to draconian. His latest wheeze is to ban all

immigration indefinitely, not on prophylactic but on protectionist grounds. Meanwhile, the virus continues regardless on its deadly path. American healthcare is, for those who can afford it,

the best in the world. Yet more people have died of Covid-19 there than anywhere else. It would be as mistaken to blame Trump for this paradox as it would be to give him the credit he

claims for “flattening the curve”. The reasons why the American death toll seems so high really are complex. Here on TheArticle, Alastair Campbell yesterday launched another diatribe against

“a Cabinet of incompetents”. Tony Blair’s former spokesman is always entertaining but he does not like complexity either. Basing himself on a controversial investigation by the _Sunday

Times, _he blames Boris Johnson for Britain’s relatively high death toll: “…one of the main reasons we are vying with the United States in the death league tables is because of things [Boris

Johnson] said and did — or more to the point didn ’ t do — as the crisis neared our shores.” Yet the truth is that the numbers probably have little to do with what the Prime Minister did or

didn’t do in January. Now that the _Sunday Times_ story has been rebutted in detail by the Health Department and dissected by many other journalists, it is clear that the Government was

indeed “following the science”, even in the early stages of what was only declared a pandemic much later. Hence questions about whom to blame are just as complex as any other aspect of this

crisis. One crucial factor that bedevils the whole debate about coronavirus and the response, but is rarely mentioned, is population density. This is especially important for those who

insist that Sweden has emerged with a mortality rate similar to Britain’s, but without a full lockdown and all the damage that entails. Sweden has a population density that is roughly one

twentieth of that in England. Even if we adjust for “lived density” by including only built-up areas, England is still about six times more densely populated than Sweden. This is despite the

fact that the two capitals, London and Stockholm, have broadly similar densities. We do not yet know how big a factor population density will prove to have been in this pandemic, but it

cannot be accidental that the places that are worst affected are also the most densely populated. Spain, for example, has a built-up density even higher than England’s, and Italy is not far

behind. New York, where the mortality rate has reached almost one in a thousand, is one of the most densely populated cities on earth. The challenges for politicians are thus different in

each country and comparisons are hence much more complex than appears at first sight. The Swedes could keep sectors of their economy open at much lower risk than the British. Comparing

deaths in densely populated Belgium, which has a full lockdown, with those in sparsely populated Sweden, which has only a partial one, need to take into account many more factors than the

fact that these two countries have similar populations. Risk factors such as age, gender and underlying health obviously have to be taken into account. Ethnic, cultural and religious

diversity may matter too. Most difficult to define, yet perhaps most important of all, societies differ fundamentally in their the way of life. In considering the impact of an epidemic and

measures to contain it, the degree of social distancing that happens anyway is a vital factor. Swedes are not the same as Spaniards. Superficially similar cities, such as London and New

York, turn out to react very differently to the threat of a lethal virus. The consequences of all these complexities are numerous and as yet obscured by the fog of war. The politics of

pandemic in a democracy makes demands on and raises expectations of our leaders that are impossible to fulfill. Boris Johnson was blamed for delaying a lockdown and is now blamed for

delaying its lifting. Those who are normally most sceptical of government are now loudest in their insistence that government is to blame for what is essentially a natural disaster. When the

dust settles, it may turn out that politicians have been accorded credit and blame for events that were never really under their control. Man proposes, but God disposes.