Boris’s gamble with the virus is truly scary

How can you trust a government that doesn’t even act in its own best interest, asks Emer O’Hanlon

I’M used to thinking the country I live in is a bit of a joke. Since I moved to the UK in 2014, these people have elected two disastrous Tory governments, voted for Brexit, and, last week, were named the most nostalgic for their former empire of any European country.

Last Thursday, however, took the situation to an abysmal low when Boris Johnson’s action plan for fighting coronavirus was revealed: do nothing and hope to develop “herd immunity” to it.

Like most of us, I’ve been glued to daily coverage of the pandemic, becoming increasingly alarmed at the rate it has spread throughout Europe.

Leo Varadkar’s statement from Washington was testament to the severity of the situation but it represented a clear decision that we can all support.

Covid-19 spreads through the interaction of people, so it’s crucial we all understand what the most sensible behaviour is and implement that in our everyday lives.

Across the water, then, it made a bit of a contrast to hear the British government was taking advice partly from behavioural psychologists, who suggested that telling people to stay home now would be counterproductive.

I can’t even fathom this move. It’s stupid, seemingly oblivious to the reality of the situation. Johnson’s government is aiming for

60pc herd immunity — a figure questioned by the WHO and other leading health experts, including many British doctors. Traditionally, 90pc herd immunity has been considered necessary to protect the most vulnerable. The plan is a gamble but one that feels very uncalculated. The language used over here is that of Churchill and the Battle of Britain. Who’s going to break it to Boris that coronavirus isn’t an enemy you can play psychological warfare with?

Last Friday was particularly sobering. I work in a large university building, usually buzzing with activity. It emptied throughout the day as everyone who could work from home left after stockpiling library books and other necessities. Less lucky, however, are the receptionists, baristas and cleaners, whose jobs (like mine) demand being physically present. We can’t work from home so have to continue until the building shuts, which probably won’t happen until direction comes from the government or a remaining staff member contracts coronavirus.

And this eventuality is not negligible to the workers who are older, sick themselves, immunocompromised or who have caring responsibilities.

Everyone and every organisation with autonomy seems to be cancelling. News that the Queen will cease her public duties illustrated that, here, keeping yourself safe at home is a privilege many don’t have.

Complaining about your government is pretty normal. So is feeling angry. Even feeling forgotten about or uncared for is a daily reality for those who are less well-off or marginalised.

But this is unlike anything I’ve experienced before. Whatever low opinion you have of your government, at the very least you expect that they (mostly older men) would do anything (however draconian) to stop themselves catching the virus. Instead,

I’m strongly reminded of the Junior Cert history class on the Famine, when my teacher explained the meaning of laissez-faire to us. In times like these, I’ve realised that you need a lot more faith in the powers-that-be. You need to know that they know what they’re doing and that they are doing everything they can.

It’s scary that the British government hasn’t ordered any kind of shutdown (the only measure proven to work) but it’s also got me more scared about what will come next. They need to establish and build up trust before the situation worsens.

Other countries worldwide are doing this, so that when they do reach the peak of the outbreak their decisions and motives will have the confidence of their people.

If they can’t see that a shutdown is needed now, then what decisions will they make later on when thousands more get sick? How can you trust a government that doesn’t even act strongly enough in its own self-interest? That, I think, is the real behavioural psychology.