How the british are coping in time of pestilence | thearticle

How are we, as a nation, responding to coronavirus? To judge by the BBC’s flagship programme Question Time, broadcast on Thursday, there has been a sudden outbreak of what was once known as

the “Blitz spirit”. Politicians avoided the usual sniping at one another. There was general approval of the Government’s emergency measures. The Tunbridge Wells audience was anything but

disgusted. Its members asked sensible questions and the Health Secretary, Matt Hancock, dispensed practical advice. Even the celebrity doctor on the panel, CBBC’s Xand van Tulleken, did not

blame “Tory cuts” to the NHS, but instead joined in the suspension of normal hostilities.  Can it last? Almost certainly not. And yet, after the sheer nastiness of the election campaign, not

to mention several years of Brexit-fuelled bitterness, people were visibly relieved by the sense of common purpose — and even rather thrilled by the revelation that our leaders do not, in

most cases, really hate one another. Journalists who often see politicians of rival parties interacting off-camera know (though seldom report) that most of them rub along pretty well.

Indeed, the enmities within parties are often much more venomous than those between them. A few, of course, are equal opportunity haters: Jeremy Corbyn loathes both Tories and Blairites. But

his day is nearly done.  What about the rest of us? How are ordinary people coping with Covid-19? Based on an entirely unscientific sample of encounters at social occasions on a single day

in London — a business lunch, a vernissage and a book launch, at a hotel, gallery and bookshop respectively — I can report that most people are more puzzled than panicked. We are, after all,

still in the phoney war phase of the epidemic; the first death from the virus has only just been confirmed. Everyone is confused about how to greet one another, with friends and

acquaintances performing a hilarious pantomime in order to avoid shaking hands. Some, of course, have still not got the memo, are still reaching out in the expectation of a handshake or even

a kiss, only to be mildly miffed when they are politely rebuffed. Often, conversation revolves around the question of manners — this is England, after all — until somebody breaks the spell

by mentioning the awkward fact that this is, after all, a lethal contagion. One woman on a visit to the capital cuts to the chase: “If I get this thing, I will be fine; but if my husband

gets it, what with his lungs, he will die.” A former Cabinet minister, now in his late seventies, is philosophical about the pestilence. “We are all making too much fuss about this virus. If

people of my age are carried off by it, we should thank the Lord for a good death, not complain about it.”  Not everyone in the risk categories, however, is quite ready to depart. Many

people begin a whole new life in retirement, if indeed they retire at all. To have it cut short by coronavirus is not part of the plan. Another septuagenarian tells me happily about the MA

he has embarked on as a mature student. He hopes to follow it with a PhD.  Hence many people are still in denial. They point to the numbers and smile dismissively. We all want to hope for

the best. Others go to the opposite extreme. They are staying at home or preparing to flee to the country. It’s a cliché, though, London depends on the gig economy to function normally.

Workers on zero hours contracts simply can’t afford to take too much time off. Matt Hancock made reassuring noises about this on television, but in practice many families face the prospect

of real hardship. In next week’s Budget, the Chancellor will need to come up with new forms of support to cushion the blow for millions of the “just about managing” for whom Covid-19 means

plunging into debt. If anything up to 80 per cent of the population catches the virus, the economy will take a big hit — and so will the taxpayer. “Whatever happens with coronovirus,” one

person cheerily prophesies, “by this time next year we will have forgotten all about it.” They could be right. Who now remembers the epidemic of CJD (Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease), which

threatened to devastate Britain during the BSE (Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy, or mad cow disease) epidemic of the 1990s? At the time, doctors were warning that a significant proportion

of the population would develop a new variant of CJD, a fatal brain disease for which there was no cure, as a result of eating beef contanimated with BSE. It has not happened yet. Covid-19,

by contrast, represents a real and present danger to up to 3 per cent of the UK population. That’s about two million people. We are still learning about this form of coronavirus, but its

progress in Italy appears to have been accelerated rather than delayed by faulty government policies, such as checking temperatures of visitors at airports. Matt Hancock insists that he and

the British Government will follow the best scientific and medical advice, even when that seems counterintuitive. It is more important, he says, to wash hands and be careful about hygiene

than to avoid crowded places. We can only hope that he is right. Meanwhile, life continues, more or less normally, at least for the moment.  As soon as we are told to stop socialising, being

British, we shall do as we are told. Until then, the best thing we can do for the country is to follow Churchill’s wartime advice: Keep Buggering On.