So we gingerly get back to normal – in a world that is anything but
It was the moment Britain had been waiting for almost as eagerly as had a Prime Minister whose fledgling premiership has been infected by a pandemic that nearly cost him his life.
After three months in lockdown, we were finally being released from what Boris Johnson described as “our long national hibernation”. Yet as we were encouraged to ditch coronavirus-induced dormancy, yesterday’s cumbersome new set of dos and don’ts only served to add a touch of the crazies to the UK’S supposedly “new normal”.
While some announcements were straightforward, others prompted more questions than they answered.
Naturally, news of pubs reopening on July 4 was greeted with a cry of “Hallelujah” in the Commons, echoing the sentiments of those thirsting for a pint, as the mercury nudged
28 degrees in Westminster.
And as he threw the hospitality industry a lifeline by reducing the social distancing rule from two metres to “one metre plus”, Mr Johnson appeared back to his glass-half-full pre-covid self.
It is no secret that the life-long libertarian initially resisted imposing the unprecedented constraints of March 23 – a delay that will inevitably be the subject of a public inquiry.
Amid criticism the Government was not just too slow to lock down – and also to lift – a chipper Mr Johnson attempted to spread much needed optimism as he announced we could not only go back to the pub but also the cinema, and even the hairdresser. “Almost as eagerly awaited as a pint will be a haircut – particularly by me,” he joked.
Yet nightclubs, gyms, bowling alleys and water parks remained out of bounds along with spas and soft play centres, with team sports only allowed among members of the same households.
As such, the updated guidance was not without notes of confusion that have come to characterise coronavirus briefings since we moved from the simplicity of “Stay At Home”.
Chief among them was the notion that two families would be able to go on holiday together – but a boyfriend and girlfriend living apart with their own flatmates still weren’t technically allowed to have sex with each other.
Parents wondered why schools stayed shut if wraparound childcare was going to be allowed over the summer holidays. Women wondered why they could get their hair done but not their nails. Swimmers wondered why they could take a dip in a lake but not a leisure centre. Theatres and concert halls wondered how they would open without showing live performances. The religious wondered how they would worship without singing. Funfairs, theme parks, amusement arcades and model villages wondered why they were open while classrooms weren’t.
And what of brides and grooms, told they could invite 30 people to their wedding, while only allowing two households at the reception?
The new regulations came wrapped in red tape that reeked of the kind of Whitehall wonkery that thinks it’s practical to recommend hugging Granny in the morning and Granddad in the afternoon.
Mr Johnson admitted he was “acutely conscious people will ask legitimate questions about why certain activities are allowed and others are not,” but it soon became apparent that the general public was once again being asked to do the heavy lifting on common sense.
“The virus has no interest in these debates – its only ambition is to exploit opportunities to recapture ground that we may carelessly vacate,” he warned, seemingly consignant of the fact there would always be the odd person who might take liberties – by, for example, testing their eyesight on the A1.
Stressing that the public would be following guidance and not legislation, he added: “The fewer social contacts you have, the safer you will be. The more we open up, the more vigilant we will need to be. That is why we will continue to trust in the common sense and the community spirit of the British people to follow this guidance, to carry us through and see us to victory over this virus,” he said, channelling his hero, Winston Churchill.
Looking dapper in a blue suit and powder blue tie, and appearing less breathless and more energised than he has in weeks, he stressed that while reopening society and rebuilding our economy, Covid-19 remained an unwanted presence. Although infections were down 70 per cent since May, and currently no risk of a second peak, he said “caution will remain our watch word”, and each step “conditional – and reversible”.
People should stick to two metres when they can, and only resort to one metre when mitigating the risk by wearing a facemask.
Ultimately, there was no mistaking the paradox at the heart of government advice in urging the public to get back to normal in a world that strikes most as anything but.