Japan can offer U.S. lesson on omicron

It’s just a guess, but I’m willing to bet that most Americans aren’t shedding tears over President Joe Biden’s ban on travelers from nations affected by COVID-19’s latest variant.

You’ve got to hand it to the virus: Unlike most of its human incubators, COVID-19 knows what it’s doing. No matter how many defenses we concoct, or how many vaccines we invent, the virus adapts and reconfigures itself, each time improving its chances for survival.

This time, COVID-19’s new omicron variant has hit southern Africa, where vaccines have been in short supply. Thus far, scientists worry that omicron is more transmissible than the delta variant.

Some African leaders have called the travel bans an overreaction, but we have already tried underreacting. As I recall, that didn’t go so well. The World Health Organization has warned against imposing travel restrictions and urged a “risk-based and scientific approach” — whatever that means.

The relative risk of widespread infection from travelers may be statistically insignificant, but why take a chance? If you ask whether my conscience is burdened by the ban’s effect on a relative few, my honest answer may put un-woke readers in mind of Rhett Butler of “Gone With the Wind.” I’m dating myself, I realize, so I will spell it out: I don’t give a damn.

Isn’t it merely sensible to try to stem dissemination of the variant for a few weeks until we know more about its transmissibility and the effectiveness of existing vaccines?

Yes. Of course. Biden has called the U.S. ban a “precautionary measure” until we know more. Meanwhile, scientists will be mimicking bartenders by shaking and then testing vials filled with a mixture of vaccinated human blood and the omicron variant, as CNN medical correspondent Sanjay Gupta has explained the process.

It’s possible that some people will miss spending the holiday season with loved ones — just as it’s possible that we here at home will face the return of unpleasant restrictions that we have only recently believed were safely behind us.

But neither represents the end of life as we know it. They are disappointments.

Apologies for the cynicism, but we humans have become so spoiled and entitled, we can hardly suffer a slow Uber driver, a long line at the grocery or bank, a shortage of nearly anything, or the slightest disruptions in our cherished routines. Missing a flight can seem like the end of the world. But once more — and probably not for the last time — we all need to take steps to limit the spread of a deadly disease for just a while.

One country, Japan, offers a compelling model. Japan is a vibrant, friendly, high-functioning country, which is why so many travelers want to go there. Japan knows how to do stuff. Like shut its borders. It has closed its doors to virtually everyone for a month.

Japan doesn’t put up with anybody’s nonsense. Stay home, says Japan; we don’t care if your feelings are hurt.

It’s apparently not in our DNA to delay gratification, but the world would benefit immeasurably by cultivating patience and a culture of grit. In the meantime, we should aspire to be more like Japan and the virus. Both adapt to reality for maximum survival — and both know what they’re doing.