The two-metre rule should be scrapped

Reducing social distancing to a metre would be a small risk worth taking if it saved swathes of the economy

What’s in a metre? Four rungs up a ladder, half the length of a bed. Yet in the social distancing debate, this difference is one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind. Lives, livelihoods, entire industries hang in the balance.

The Government has so far urged the public to keep at least two metres apart from non-household members – a command that places us in a vanishingly small minority. Britain is one of only two EU countries to enforce this rule; many more have followed WHO guidance that one metre is safe or have adopted compromise positions in between. Those insisting we “follow the science” forget that epidemiology, like the virus, is no respecter of national borders.

Safetyism may be a very British disease, but the two-metre rule carries incalculable risks. It should be blindingly obvious that swathes of the economy – shops, restaurants, gyms, theatres and pubs – cannot survive on the reduced capacity it implies. According to Emma Mcclarkin of the British Beer and Pub Association, the rule would mean that only 20 per cent of pubs kept afloat when they are allowed to reopen, whereas a onemetre rule “would put the majority … back in play”. Theatres, whose product cannot be converted into takeaway, are facing particular struggles that could prove existential – and insuperable – if the two-metre rule continues when performances resume.

Urban eateries and watering holes face a dual onslaught – from both changing work habits and the rule itself. Earlier this week, Grant Shapps claimed that, with the two-metre rule in place, public transport could only run at 10 per cent of normal capacity, while companies are busy preparing staff for long periods of working remotely. London would surely be wrecked as a consequence, alongside the UK’S other capitals and bustling conurbations like Birmingham,

Manchester, Liverpool and Glasgow. This would not just be tragic for the businesses going to the wall and staff made redundant; it would destroy the buzz and vibrancy which give these cities their distinctive character.

Our infrastructure isn’t equipped for this madness, and nor are our social instincts. A popular joke is doing the rounds in Finland – “So, we now have to stay two metres away from each other? Why so close?” – but we are not the Finns. Two metres versus one means the difference between enjoying an intimate chat with a friend and having to shout. Two metres will drive our economy into the ground, while driving everyone mad in the interim.

And to what end? The figure is an arbitrary compromise; the precise thinking behind it hails from 1930s experiments by Harvard scientist Willam Wells into the contagiousness of tuberculosis. Other scientists beg to differ, though the Government’s chief scientific adviser, Sir Patrick Vallance, told the health select committee that the risk at one metre “is about 10 to 30 times higher than the risk at two”. This may seem a scary multiple at first glance, but it is meaningless without context – a negligible risk at two metres may still be trivial when multiplied by 30.

With so much at stake, the policy justification ought to be transparently explained to the public, especially as evidence mounts that casual interactions are barely driving transmission, and the risks of catching the virus outdoors are low. Yet Sage experts have reportedly warned ministers against changing the rule at this stage, for fear it could prove “confusing”.

This is not just laughably patronising; one metre is as easy to understand as two, and the public is perfectly familiar with the concept of rules changing as the threat from the virus recedes. The fact that ministers continue to hide behind this advice demonstrates a worrying lack of political courage. Complex decisions must never be the sole preserve of boffins, dealing in black and white. If scientists were asked to assess the safe distance to stand apart, they might say one mile, but that would clearly be unworkable. In dynamic economies, decisions must consider more than just marginal health benefits.

Our country needs economic growth for its very survival, something that is impossible at a two-metre distance. Unless we realise this – and soon – our lack of pragmatism could prove more deadly than the virus itself.