newyorker--2020-03-16--Invisible Bullets: What Lucretius Taught Us About Pandemics

In 1585 , the greatest Elizabethan scientist , Thomas Harriot , was sent by his patron , Sir Walter Raleigh , to the nascent English colony in Virginia to assess the natural resources , observe the Algonquian inhabitants , and weigh the colonists ’ chances of survival .
Harriot , who went out of his way to learn at least some of the Carolina Algonquian language and to establish what he calls a “ special familiarity with some of their priests , ” was impressed by much of what he observed .
He admired the natives ’ skills in agriculture @ @ @ @ @ @ @ eloquent , dignified leaders ; their strong family and clan bonds .
The English were only a small , ragged band of men—Raleigh had sent no women at this exploratory stage—in a vast , uncharted land inhabited by well-organized , prosperous , and proud peoples .
Harriot saw that they could not be effortlessly subjugated .
But , as he wrote in “ A briefe and true report of the new found land of Virginia , ” from 1588 , he was confident that the colonists could profit from their manifest technological superiority @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and reading , spring clocks that seem to go of themselves , ” etc .
And the new arrivals , though small in number , had an additional advantage .
Wherever the English went , Harriot reported , if any of the natives plotted against them , “ within a few days after our departure from every such town , the people began to die very fast , and many in short space ; in some towns about twenty , in some forty , in some sixty and in one six score , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ respect of their numbers .
.
.
.
The disease also so strange , that they neither knew what it was , nor how to cure it , the like by report of the oldest men in the country never happened before , time out of mind.
” Harriot was observing , of course , the terrifying effects of viruses—smallpox , measles , influenza , and the like—on a population that had been entirely unexposed to them , but he interpreted these effects as a providential punishment on those natives who “ used @ @ @ @ @ @ @ part , the Algonquians also perceived that there was a relation between the epidemics and the new arrivals , but , as Harriot noted , they had a very different explanation of what was happening .
They speculated that the handful of colonists was only the beginning .
There were more , they feared , yet to come , “ to kill theirs and take their places.
” “ Those that were immediately to come after us [ the first English colonists ] , ” Harriot wrote , “ they imagined to be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ without bodies , and that they by our entreaty and for the love of us did make the people die .
.
.
by shooting invisible bullets into them.
” “ Invisible bullets ” : the Algonquians used the murderous technology that the English had brought into their midst as a brilliant metaphor for the disease that the colonists had also introduced , a disease that they correctly feared would facilitate the destruction of their society .
That Harriot took the trouble to record this metaphor is a mark of his unusual gifts @ @ @ @ @ @ @ also reflect his own speculative interests .
Officially , he articulated the notion , so reassuring to his English readers , that the disease struck those who were secretly plotting against the colonists , and hence that it was “ the special work of God.
” ( In the circular logic that always characterizes such explanations , the evidence for the existence of the conspiracies is precisely the death of the alleged conspirators . )
But Harriot was suspected throughout his career of being an atheist , and more specifically of being a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
And Lucretius , as it happens , devoted particular attention to epidemics .
In his philosophical masterpiece “ On the Nature of Things , ” written around 50 B.C.E.
, Lucretius laid out the arguments for a radical materialism .
Humans should not cower in fear of divine punishment , he wrote , or perform slavish sacrificial offerings in the hope of divine rewards .
The universe is not the mysterious plaything of gods or demons ; it consists of atoms and emptiness and nothing else .
The atoms—Lucretius called them semina @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” —are in movement , endlessly swerving , colliding , combining , separating , and recombining in new and unforeseen patterns .
There is , in all of this movement , no fixed pattern , no overarching intention , no trace of intelligent design .
Instead , over a boundless expanse of time and space , there are ceaseless , random mutations .
Old forms are constantly dying ; new forms are constantly surging up .
For Lucretius , this vision was profoundly consoling : instead of fretting about the gods or worrying @ @ @ @ @ @ @ your attention on this world , the only one you will ever experience , and calmly go about enhancing pleasure for yourself and for everyone around you .
But he knew that the news he brought was not unequivocally reassuring .
If diseases were not inflicted upon you by angry gods , they nonetheless had to come from somewhere , namely from the same ceaselessly swirling atoms that produced everything else .
The seeds of things , he wrote ( in Rolfe Humphries ’ s translation ) , When particles hostile to us @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ and changes are enforced / In our familiar quarters.
” At such times , something strange happens to the world we thought we so intimately knew .
The sky above our heads seems at once like itself and alien , and the things that enable existence come to seem deeply threatening .
The plague , Lucretius writes , Small wonder that gloom descends on people ’ s faces , and that minds become unsettled with melancholy and fear .
In “ On the Nature of Things , ” Lucretius ends with a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ struck Athens during the Peloponnesian War .
That the poem abruptly closes on such a dark note has led many scholars to conclude that Lucretius must have left it unfinished .
There was even a legend that he died suddenly from the effects of a love potion , given to him by his wife .
Perhaps this is so .
But our current struggle with the COVID-19 pandemic casts the poem ’ s ending in a different light .
A plague , after all , tests us in unique ways .
It ruthlessly @ @ @ @ @ @ @ calls into question our familiar assumptions , shines a pitiless light on our social and political and religious order .
As I sit here in my “ voluntary self-isolation ” —for I have only recently returned to the United States from Italy—I wonder if the poem ’ s closing focus on epidemic disease might , in fact , have been fully intended .
This is precisely the existential challenge , Lucretius thought , that any society worth inhabiting and any philosophy worth embracing must address .
When everything is going well , it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the material world .
But what if everything is not going well—if mutations in the seeds of things bring disease and death ?
Only if you can face the invisible bullets all around us , and still keep calm , remain rational , and somehow find it possible to take pleasure in life , have you learned the lesson that the poem set out to teach .
To judge from the news , most of us seem very far from this Epicurean achievement .
But the recent reports from Italy , which @ @ @ @ @ @ @ standing out on their balconies and singing in the midst of the plague , give me hope .
They remind us that , alongside science , the other realm in which human resilience and inventiveness are at their height is art .
In Lucretius , the two are joined : his philosophical disquisition on atoms , pleasure , and the plague takes the form of a poem , a song to be sung .
How people cope and create new customs amid a pandemic .
What it means to contain and mitigate the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ world is likely to be quarantined ?
Donald Trump in the time of coronavirus .
The coronavirus is likely to spread for more than a year before a vaccine could be widely available .
We are all irrational panic shoppers .
The strange terror of watching the coronavirus take Rome .
How pandemics change history .

In 1585, the greatest Elizabethan scientist, Thomas Harriot, was sent by his patron, Sir Walter Raleigh, to the nascent English colony in Virginia to assess the natural resources, observe the Algonquian inhabitants, and weigh the colonists’ chances of survival. Harriot, who went out of his way to learn at least some of the Carolina Algonquian language and to establish what he calls a “special familiarity with some of their priests,” was impressed by much of what he observed. He admired the natives’ skills in agriculture, hunting, and fishing; their eloquent, dignified leaders; their strong family and clan bonds.
The English were only a small, ragged band of men—Raleigh had sent no women at this exploratory stage—in a vast, uncharted land inhabited by well-organized, prosperous, and proud peoples. Harriot saw that they could not be effortlessly subjugated. But, as he wrote in “A briefe and true report of the new found land of Virginia,” from 1588, he was confident that the colonists could profit from their manifest technological superiority: “guns, books, writing and reading, spring clocks that seem to go of themselves,” etc. And the new arrivals, though small in number, had an additional advantage. Wherever the English went, Harriot reported, if any of the natives plotted against them, “within a few days after our departure from every such town, the people began to die very fast, and many in short space; in some towns about twenty, in some forty, in some sixty and in one six score, which in truth was very many in respect of their numbers. . . . The disease also so strange, that they neither knew what it was, nor how to cure it, the like by report of the oldest men in the country never happened before, time out of mind.”
Harriot was observing, of course, the terrifying effects of viruses—smallpox, measles, influenza, and the like—on a population that had been entirely unexposed to them, but he interpreted these effects as a providential punishment on those natives who “used some practice against us.” For their part, the Algonquians also perceived that there was a relation between the epidemics and the new arrivals, but, as Harriot noted, they had a very different explanation of what was happening. They speculated that the handful of colonists was only the beginning. There were more, they feared, yet to come, “to kill theirs and take their places.” “Those that were immediately to come after us [the first English colonists],” Harriot wrote, “they imagined to be in the air, yet invisible and without bodies, and that they by our entreaty and for the love of us did make the people die . . . by shooting invisible bullets into them.”
“Invisible bullets”: the Algonquians used the murderous technology that the English had brought into their midst as a brilliant metaphor for the disease that the colonists had also introduced, a disease that they correctly feared would facilitate the destruction of their society. That Harriot took the trouble to record this metaphor is a mark of his unusual gifts as an ethnographer, but it may also reflect his own speculative interests. Officially, he articulated the notion, so reassuring to his English readers, that the disease struck those who were secretly plotting against the colonists, and hence that it was “the special work of God.” (In the circular logic that always characterizes such explanations, the evidence for the existence of the conspiracies is precisely the death of the alleged conspirators.) But Harriot was suspected throughout his career of being an atheist, and more specifically of being a disciple of the ancient Epicurean philosopher Lucretius. And Lucretius, as it happens, devoted particular attention to epidemics.
In his philosophical masterpiece “On the Nature of Things,” written around 50 B.C.E., Lucretius laid out the arguments for a radical materialism. Humans should not cower in fear of divine punishment, he wrote, or perform slavish sacrificial offerings in the hope of divine rewards. The universe is not the mysterious plaything of gods or demons; it consists of atoms and emptiness and nothing else. The atoms—Lucretius called them semina rerum, “the seeds of things”—are in movement, endlessly swerving, colliding, combining, separating, and recombining in new and unforeseen patterns. There is, in all of this movement, no fixed pattern, no overarching intention, no trace of intelligent design. Instead, over a boundless expanse of time and space, there are ceaseless, random mutations. Old forms are constantly dying; new forms are constantly surging up.
For Lucretius, this vision was profoundly consoling: instead of fretting about the gods or worrying about the afterlife, you should focus your attention on this world, the only one you will ever experience, and calmly go about enhancing pleasure for yourself and for everyone around you. But he knew that the news he brought was not unequivocally reassuring. If diseases were not inflicted upon you by angry gods, they nonetheless had to come from somewhere, namely from the same ceaselessly swirling atoms that produced everything else. The seeds of things, he wrote (in Rolfe Humphries’s translation),
Are necessary to support our lives.
By the same token, it is obvious
That all around us noxious particles
Are flying, motes of sickness and of death.
When particles hostile to us begin to move, confusion stirs, “and changes are enforced / In our familiar quarters.” At such times, something strange happens to the world we thought we so intimately knew. The sky above our heads seems at once like itself and alien, and the things that enable existence come to seem deeply threatening. The plague, Lucretius writes,
Falls on the water or the grain fields, falls
On other nourishment of beasts and men,
Or hangs suspended in the very air
From which our breath inhales it, draws it down
All through our bodies.
Small wonder that gloom descends on people’s faces, and that minds become unsettled with melancholy and fear. In “On the Nature of Things,” Lucretius ends with a harrowing account of the devastating epidemic that struck Athens during the Peloponnesian War. That the poem abruptly closes on such a dark note has led many scholars to conclude that Lucretius must have left it unfinished. There was even a legend that he died suddenly from the effects of a love potion, given to him by his wife.
Perhaps this is so. But our current struggle with the COVID-19 pandemic casts the poem’s ending in a different light. A plague, after all, tests us in unique ways. It ruthlessly takes the measure of our values, calls into question our familiar assumptions, shines a pitiless light on our social and political and religious order. As I sit here in my “voluntary self-isolation”—for I have only recently returned to the United States from Italy—I wonder if the poem’s closing focus on epidemic disease might, in fact, have been fully intended. This is precisely the existential challenge, Lucretius thought, that any society worth inhabiting and any philosophy worth embracing must address. When everything is going well, it is easy enough to contemplate our place in the material world. But what if everything is not going well—if mutations in the seeds of things bring disease and death? Only if you can face the invisible bullets all around us, and still keep calm, remain rational, and somehow find it possible to take pleasure in life, have you learned the lesson that the poem set out to teach.
To judge from the news, most of us seem very far from this Epicurean achievement. But the recent reports from Italy, which detail many of Lucretius’ quarantined countrymen standing out on their balconies and singing in the midst of the plague, give me hope. They remind us that, alongside science, the other realm in which human resilience and inventiveness are at their height is art. In Lucretius, the two are joined: his philosophical disquisition on atoms, pleasure, and the plague takes the form of a poem, a song to be sung.
A Guide to the Coronavirus
How people cope and create new customs amid a pandemic.
What it means to contain and mitigate the coronavirus outbreak.
How much of the world is likely to be quarantined?
Donald Trump in the time of coronavirus.
The coronavirus is likely to spread for more than a year before a vaccine could be widely available.
We are all irrational panic shoppers.
The strange terror of watching the coronavirus take Rome.
How pandemics change history.


newyorker--2020-03-16--What Went Wrong with Coronavirus Testing in the U.S.

On February 5th , sixteen days after a Seattle resident who had visited relatives in Wuhan , China , was diagnosed as having the first confirmed case of COVID-19 in the United States , the Centers for Disease Control , in Atlanta , began sending diagnostic tests to a network of about a hundred state , city , and county public-health laboratories .
Up to that point , all testing for COVID-19 in the U.S. had been done at the C.D.C .
; of some five hundred suspected cases tested at the Centers , twelve had confirmed positive .
The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ thousand patients to be tested , and they would also make testing much faster , as patient specimens would no longer have to be sent to Atlanta to be evaluated .
The kits were shipped in small white cardboard boxes .
Inside each box were four vials , packed in stiff gray foam , which held the necessary materials , known as reagents , to run tests on about three hundred people .
Before a state or local lab could use the C.D.C.-developed tests on actual patients , however , it had to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ they had in Atlanta , a process known as verification .
The first batch of kits , sent to more than fifty state and local public-health labs , arrived on February 7th .
Of the labs that received tests , around six to eight were able to verify that they worked as intended .
But a larger number , about thirty-six of them , received inconclusive results from one of the reagents .
Another five , including the New York City and New York State labs , had problems with two reagents .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ their problems to the C.D.C .
In a briefing a few days later , Nancy Messonnier , the director of the National Center for Immunization and Respiratory Diseases , said that although “ we hoped that everything would go smoothly as we rushed through this , ” the verification problems were “ part of the normal procedures.
” In the meantime , she said , until new reagents could be manufactured , all COVID-19 testing in the United States would continue to take place exclusively at the C.D.C .
The public-health-laboratory network was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the event of a pandemic .
To offer tests to anyone who wanted them , as President Trump did , on March 6th , was always going to require commercial testing facilities to come on line .
Still , the three-week delay caused by the C.D.C.
’ s failure to get working test kits into the hands of the public-health labs came at a crucial time .
In the early stages of an outbreak , contact tracing , isolation , and individual quarantines are regularly deployed to contain the spread of a disease @ @ @ @ @ @ @ suspected cases of a disease can not be tested .
The void created by the C.D.C.
’ s faulty tests made it impossible for public-health authorities to get an accurate picture of how far and how fast the disease was spreading .
In hotspots like Seattle , and probably elsewhere , COVID-19 spread undetected for several weeks , which in turn only multiplied the need for more tests .
“ Once you ’ re behind the eight ball , it ’ s very hard to catch up , ” Alberto Gutierrez , the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of In Vitro Diagnostics and Radiological Health , which regulates tests , told me .
“ The problem was that containment was not done very well .
At this point , we ’ re looking at exponential growth , and we need to figure out how to meet an exponential demand.
” The COVID-19 tests use polymerase chain reaction , or PCR , a technology for whose invention the biochemist Kary Mullis won the Nobel Prize , in 1993 .
PCR is highly sensitive to contamination and other faults , which is why @ @ @ @ @ @ @ accurate results .
And yet while the reagent problems were , in their way , a fairly ordinary technical hiccup—Messonnier , at the C.D.C.
, was not spinning the situation—the cascading effects that they ’ ve had on the country ’ s COVID-19 preparations suggest a much larger problem with the way the United States has structured its pandemic response .
That problem was exacerbated by a President who has simultaneously underplayed the severity of the outbreak and overpromised the means available to fight it .
The problems with COVID-19 testing in the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ near the start of the pandemic , a triumph of modern medical science .
On January 10th , three days after Chinese government officials announced that a novel coronavirus , now known as SARS-CoV-2 , was responsible for an upsurge of pneumonia cases in Wuhan , China , a team of Chinese scientists uploaded a copy of the virus ’ s genome to an online repository , and virologists around the world set to work to develop diagnostic tests for the new disease .
On January 21st , a team in Berlin , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the scientists who discovered the original SARS virus , in 2003 , submitted the first paper to describe a protocol for testing for SARS-CoV-2 .
( That protocol would form the basis for a test disseminated , early on , by the World Health Organization . )
 That same day , Messonnier announced that the C.D.C .
had finalized its own test , which it used to confirm the first known case of COVID-19 in the U.S .
In Seattle , a team at the University of Washington Virology Lab debated whether @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ I ’ ll be honest .
I didn ’ t think that this virus was going to do everything it ’ s done , ” Keith Jerome , the lab ’ s director , told me .
“ I didn ’ t think it would be a major health issue for the United States.
” Still , he said , “ the last thing we wanted to do was to be caught flat-footed.
” The U.W .
virology lab is subject to strict regulatory oversight , but , thanks to a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ did not initially require any special clearance from the federal government to produce its COVID-19 test .
“ We started , probably in earnest in mid-January , to prepare what we call a laboratory-developed test ,  ” Jerome said .
It took a team at the lab , working under the direction of Alex Greninger , about two weeks to develop a working version .
But , as soon as Alex Azar , the Secretary of Health and Human Services , declared a public-health emergency , on February 4th , a new @ @ @ @ @ @ @ point on , any lab that wanted to conduct its own tests for the new coronavirus would first need to secure something called an Emergency Use Authorization from the F.D.A .
( The C.D.C.
, which had been working closely with the F.D.A.
, received the first E.U.A .
for a COVID-19 test on the same day as Azar ’ s declaration . )
This shift in the regulations sounds perverse , since it restricts the use of new tests at precisely the moment they ’ re most needed .
But Joshua Sharfstein @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the F.D.A.
, told me that the change is meant to protect the public .
“ You certainly wouldn ’ t want to say , ‘ Any lab can advertise a coronavirus test.
’ Because then it ’ s going to be chaos .
There are a lot of people who will sell things that may or may not work.
” Sharfstein said that the E.U.A .
law was designed to offer the F.D.A .
a way to cut through red tape in the case of emergencies .
He signed the very first @ @ @ @ @ @ @ H1N1-flu epidemic , after the C.D.C .
requested approval for diagnostic tests .
“ I met with the lawyers to explain to me the E.U.A .
process , and they basically said , ‘ It ’ s whatever we think it is .
We can make it up to fit the time.
’ If you tell me I ’ ve got twelve hours , I could get some very smart people on the phone to do our best to figure out something that ’ s going to work .
The E.U.A .
process @ @ @ @ @

On February 5th, sixteen days after a Seattle resident who had visited relatives in Wuhan, China, was diagnosed as having the first confirmed case of COVID-19 in the United States, the Centers for Disease Control, in Atlanta, began sending diagnostic tests to a network of about a hundred state, city, and county public-health laboratories. Up to that point, all testing for COVID-19 in the U.S. had been done at the C.D.C.; of some five hundred suspected cases tested at the Centers, twelve had confirmed positive. The new test kits would allow about fifty thousand patients to be tested, and they would also make testing much faster, as patient specimens would no longer have to be sent to Atlanta to be evaluated.
The kits were shipped in small white cardboard boxes. Inside each box were four vials, packed in stiff gray foam, which held the necessary materials, known as reagents, to run tests on about three hundred people. Before a state or local lab could use the C.D.C.-developed tests on actual patients, however, it had to insure that they worked the same way they had in Atlanta, a process known as verification. The first batch of kits, sent to more than fifty state and local public-health labs, arrived on February 7th. Of the labs that received tests, around six to eight were able to verify that they worked as intended. But a larger number, about thirty-six of them, received inconclusive results from one of the reagents. Another five, including the New York City and New York State labs, had problems with two reagents. On February 8th, several labs reported their problems to the C.D.C. In a briefing a few days later, Nancy Messonnier, the director of the National Center for Immunization and Respiratory Diseases, said that although “we hoped that everything would go smoothly as we rushed through this,” the verification problems were “part of the normal procedures.” In the meantime, she said, until new reagents could be manufactured, all COVID-19 testing in the United States would continue to take place exclusively at the C.D.C.
The public-health-laboratory network was never intended to provide widespread testing in the event of a pandemic. To offer tests to anyone who wanted them, as President Trump did, on March 6th, was always going to require commercial testing facilities to come on line. Still, the three-week delay caused by the C.D.C.’s failure to get working test kits into the hands of the public-health labs came at a crucial time. In the early stages of an outbreak, contact tracing, isolation, and individual quarantines are regularly deployed to contain the spread of a disease. But these tools are useless if suspected cases of a disease cannot be tested. The void created by the C.D.C.’s faulty tests made it impossible for public-health authorities to get an accurate picture of how far and how fast the disease was spreading. In hotspots like Seattle, and probably elsewhere, COVID-19 spread undetected for several weeks, which in turn only multiplied the need for more tests. “Once you’re behind the eight ball, it’s very hard to catch up,” Alberto Gutierrez, the former head of the F.D.A. Office of In Vitro Diagnostics and Radiological Health, which regulates tests, told me. “The problem was that containment was not done very well. At this point, we’re looking at exponential growth, and we need to figure out how to meet an exponential demand.”
The COVID-19 tests use polymerase chain reaction, or PCR, a technology for whose invention the biochemist Kary Mullis won the Nobel Prize, in 1993. PCR is highly sensitive to contamination and other faults, which is why the verification step is necessary to insure accurate results. And yet while the reagent problems were, in their way, a fairly ordinary technical hiccup—Messonnier, at the C.D.C., was not spinning the situation—the cascading effects that they’ve had on the country’s COVID-19 preparations suggest a much larger problem with the way the United States has structured its pandemic response. That problem was exacerbated by a President who has simultaneously underplayed the severity of the outbreak and overpromised the means available to fight it.
The problems with COVID-19 testing in the United States have obscured what was, near the start of the pandemic, a triumph of modern medical science. On January 10th, three days after Chinese government officials announced that a novel coronavirus, now known as SARS-CoV-2, was responsible for an upsurge of pneumonia cases in Wuhan, China, a team of Chinese scientists uploaded a copy of the virus’s genome to an online repository, and virologists around the world set to work to develop diagnostic tests for the new disease. On January 21st, a team in Berlin, led by Christian Drosten, one of the scientists who discovered the original SARS virus, in 2003, submitted the first paper to describe a protocol for testing for SARS-CoV-2. (That protocol would form the basis for a test disseminated, early on, by the World Health Organization.) That same day, Messonnier announced that the C.D.C. had finalized its own test, which it used to confirm the first known case of COVID-19 in the U.S.
In Seattle, a team at the University of Washington Virology Lab debated whether it was worth developing their own test. “I’ll be honest. I didn’t think that this virus was going to do everything it’s done,” Keith Jerome, the lab’s director, told me. “I didn’t think it would be a major health issue for the United States.” Still, he said, “the last thing we wanted to do was to be caught flat-footed.” The U.W. virology lab is subject to strict regulatory oversight, but, thanks to a peculiar feature of U.S. law, it did not initially require any special clearance from the federal government to produce its COVID-19 test. “We started, probably in earnest in mid-January, to prepare what we call a laboratory-developed test,” Jerome said. It took a team at the lab, working under the direction of Alex Greninger, about two weeks to develop a working version. But, as soon as Alex Azar, the Secretary of Health and Human Services, declared a public-health emergency, on February 4th, a new regulatory regime took effect. From that point on, any lab that wanted to conduct its own tests for the new coronavirus would first need to secure something called an Emergency Use Authorization from the F.D.A. (The C.D.C., which had been working closely with the F.D.A., received the first E.U.A. for a COVID-19 test on the same day as Azar’s declaration.)
This shift in the regulations sounds perverse, since it restricts the use of new tests at precisely the moment they’re most needed. But Joshua Sharfstein, a former principal deputy commissioner of the F.D.A., told me that the change is meant to protect the public. “You certainly wouldn’t want to say, ‘Any lab can advertise a coronavirus test.’ Because then it’s going to be chaos. There are a lot of people who will sell things that may or may not work.” Sharfstein said that the E.U.A. law was designed to offer the F.D.A. a way to cut through red tape in the case of emergencies. He signed the very first E.U.A, in 2009, during the H1N1-flu epidemic, after the C.D.C. requested approval for diagnostic tests. “I met with the lawyers to explain to me the E.U.A. process, and they basically said, ‘It’s whatever we think it is. We can make it up to fit the time.’ If you tell me I’ve got twelve hours, I could get some very smart people on the phone to do our best to figure out something that’s going to work. The E.U.A. process is supremely flexible.”
Yet flexibility was not what Jerome and his lab found when they tried to get an E.U.A. for their COVID-19 test. “From the point of view of the academic labs, we look at it, like, when there’s any run-of-the-mill virus that people are used to, they trust us to make a test,” he said. “But when there’s a big emergency and we feel like we should really do something, it gets hard. It’s a little frustrating. We’ve got a lot of scientists and doctors and laboratory personnel who are incredibly good at making assays. What we’re not so good at is figuring out all the forms and working with the bureaucracy of the federal government.” Jerome said that Greninger had to call and e-mail the F.D.A. multiple times to figure out what they needed to secure an E.U.A. “At one point, he was very frustrated because he’d e-mailed them what we were doing so they could review it,” Jerome said. “But legally you also had to mail a physical copy. Here we are in this SARS-CoV-2 crisis, and you have to send them something through the United States Postal Service. It’s just shocking.” (The F.D.A. has since dropped the requirement to send a CD-ROM or USB drive with a copy of the application.) Despite these difficulties, Jerome said, the F.D.A. ultimately proved responsive to the lab’s entreaties. “They had good and substantive feedback that made our testing better, and the response time was typically just a couple of days.”
While they waited for authorization from the F.D.A., Jerome and his colleagues had to decide whether it was worth increasing their testing capacity. “If you start thinking about ramping up volumes, you’re talking about spending real money to do so,” Jerome said. But, though the restrictions that accompanied Azar’s emergency declaration meant that the U.W. virology lab could not conduct clinical tests for COVID-19, they did not mean that the lab had to stop testing for the new disease entirely. Thanks to another regulatory quirk, the lab was allowed to repurpose specimens it had received for other tests, such as the flu, and test them for SARS-CoV-2. Jerome said that the lab tested specimens from about three hundred people through the second half of February. “We didn’t find anything on those three hundred until, I believe it was, February 29th,” he said. “And then we got a specimen from one of the people who were the two original cases in Washington.”
The E.U.A. regulations, however, prohibited the lab from reporting the results to the doctors who had ordered the tests for their patients. To work around the prohibition, Jerome’s lab called officials at the state lab and told them, “You’ve got to get this patient and test.” (As it happened, the patient’s specimen was already being studied for COVID-19.) In effect, Jerome said, the lab was able to perform at least some surveillance of the outbreak, despite the lack of tests from the C.D.C. “If we’d been able to test a thousand people or two thousand people, maybe we would have found something sooner,” he told me. “But it does show that it wasn’t like everyone had it through those last two weeks of February.”
Academic labs like Jerome’s were not the only institutions to attempt to fill the void left by the C.D.C.’s faulty tests. Scott Becker is the C.E.O. of the Association of Public Health Laboratories, a nonprofit organization based in Silver Spring, Maryland, that represents and coördinates a hundred and fifty state, county, and city public-health laboratories. Scientists at the public-health labs, Becker told me, tend to be eager for action. “They’re the first ones out of the gate. They know their role.” But Becker’s network was set up to administer diagnostic tests, not produce them. “We figured out surge, we figured out all sorts of other components, but the assumption has always been that there would be a test,” he said. When the problems with its kits were first discovered, the C.D.C. told the labs not to proceed with any tests until new kits could be manufactured, but it refused to say when those would be ready. “You’re just thinking, any day it’s going to show up,” Becker said. “We really felt this enormous pressure to begin testing any way we could.” He corrected himself: “Not only pressure, but responsibility.”
The C.D.C. notified the F.D.A. about the reagent problems on February 10th. According to an agency official, the C.D.C. told the F.D.A. that the contractor who had manufactured the faulty test kits would soon have a new batch of reagents ready for a suite of enhanced quality-control measures. If the reagents worked, then testing at the public-health labs would be able to begin in a few days. By Friday, February 21st, however, Nancy Messonnier, at the C.D.C., told reporters that the problems with the test kits were still not resolved. “We are working with the F.D.A., who have oversight over us, under the E.U.A., on redoing some of the kits,” she said. “We obviously would not want to use anything but the most perfect possible kits, since we’re making determinations about whether people have COVID-19 or not.”
Two days later, Becker called the A.P.H.L.’s director of infectious diseases, Kelly Wroblewski, and told her, “I have a crazy idea.” Becker said that he wanted to ask the F.D.A. to allow his network of public-health laboratories to create their own COVID-19 tests. Wroblewski said that she had been thinking along similar lines. “So it’s not crazy, right?” Becker asked Wroblewski. He called the president of his organization to pitch the idea, and then he called the directors of the New York State and New York City labs. “They were, like, ‘We could do this. We should go for this,’ ” Becker said. “So then I just started calling all my board members, and there wasn’t a person that said no.”
The next morning, Monday, February 24th, Becker and the A.P.H.L.’s president, Grace Kubin, sent a letter to the F.D.A. Citing “the gravity of the current COVID-19 situation across the globe,” they asked the F.D.A. commissioner to allow the A.P.H.L.’s member laboratories to “create and implement a laboratory developed test (LDT) for the detection of SARS-CoV-2 (COVID-19).” The letter went on: “While we appreciate the many efforts underway at CDC . . . we are now many weeks into the response with still no diagnostic or surveillance tests available outside of CDC for the vast majority of our member laboratories.” By that night, Becker had still received no acknowledgement to his letter. “I checked in with them to say, ‘Did you receive it?’ And I got an e-mail that said, ‘Yes, the commissioner’s office is working up a response.’ I reported that to my staff the next morning. I said, ‘O.K., so that’s the bureaucratic death knell. We tried. We did the best we can. It was a bit of a Hail Mary, but no harm in asking.’ ”


newyorker--2020-03-16--Convincing Boomer Parents to Take the Coronavirus Seriously

Last Wednesday night , not long after President Trump ’ s Oval Office address , I called my mother to check in about the , you know , unprecedented global health crisis that ’ s happening .
She told me that she and my father were in a cab on the way home from a fun dinner at the Polo Bar , in midtown Manhattan , with another couple who were old friends .
“ You went to a restaurant ?
!
” I shrieked .
This was several days after she had told me , through sniffles , that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ didn ’ t see any reason that she shouldn ’ t go to the school where she works .
Also , she was still hoping to make a trip to Florida at the end of the month .
My dad , a lawyer , was planning to go into the office on Thursday , but thought that he might work from home on Friday , if he could figure out how to link up his personal computer .
That night , moments after getting into bed , I sprang up and wrote them @ @ @ @ @ @ @ like the two of you are not taking serious enough precautions right now , ” I told them .
“ The time is DONE for going out to restaurants , showing up at the office every day , etc .
Just stay inside and watch TV !
” When I followed up with texts , my mother wrote back sarcastically , “ Thanks mom.
” This role reversal was .
.
.
novel .
I still think of my parents as the grownups , the ones who lecture me about saving for retirement @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sister .
It took a pandemic to thrust me into the role of the responsible adult and them into the role of the heedless children .
I ’ m thirty-eight , and my mother and father are sixty-eight and seventy-four , respectively .
Neither is retired , and both are in good shape .
But people sixty-five and older—more than half of the baby-boomer population—are more susceptible to COVID-19 and have a higher mortality rate , and my parents ’ blithe behavior was as unsettling as the frantic warnings coming from hospitals in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ peers , I realized that I wasn ’ t alone .
A lot of us have spent the past week pleading with our baby-boomer parents to cook at home , rip up the cruise tickets , and step away from the grandchildren .
My in-laws , who live in Puerto Rico , needed all three of their adult children to persuade them over a group text not to go to Macy ’ s ( or at least to skip communion at church ) .
One friend writes , “ My dad is a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ retired nurse .
They are both in their early seventies .
When I called home to check in on them , no answer .
Turns out my mom was ‘ at the mall having coffee ’ ( ?
! )
and my dad was golfing .
I yelled at them to stop being rebellious children of the 1960s and to please grow up.
” Another says , of his parents , “ They just won ’ t fucking listen to me .
I ’ m going to kill them before COVID does .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ are telling me I ’ m overreacting by telling them to stop eating out , and my mom keeps going to the office .
I won ’ t let them come here to see the boys ( who both have mild fevers and coughs right now , which could be nothing , but obviously a bad idea ) .
They get mad at me when I call them to tell them to just stay the fuck home .
My dad is a seventy-one-year-old diabetic.
” I told my mom about what seemed like @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are saying the same thing , ” she texted back , no doubt on her way to a farmers ’ market , “ that their kids are crazy and treating us like elderly people.
” Allow me to wildly generalize about baby boomers for just a moment ( or at least the white , well-off , straight American ones who make up most of my sampling ) .
They were born on a grassy back yard after the Second World War , learned how to duck and cover in elementary school , invented @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , and now run the world and won ’ t let go .
They are retiring later and buying anti-wrinkle cream by the tub-load .
As countless trend pieces have pointed out , they don ’ t like to be called “ grandma ” and “ grandpa ” —or even “ senior citizens , ” even when they indisputably are .
And who can blame them ?
They transformed American culture when they were young , gorgeous , and rebellious , ushering in an ethos of freedom .
( I ’ m told @ @ @ @ @ @ @ They ’ ve managed to stay productive into their sixties and seventies , bending the idea of aging to their will .
Until the millennial barb “ O.K.
, boomer ” came along , they may not have realized that they are the least bit out of the mainstream .
But now a virus poses a unique threat to an age group that , whether they admit it or not , includes them .
Our Boomer-in-Chief is the most prominent denialist .
But it ’ s striking that the first celebrities to announce @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Hanks and Rita Wilson , the closest thing that Hollywood has to fun boomer parents .
If Forrest Gump can get the coronavirus , so can you , Dad .
Of course , there are many exceptions to the blasé-boomer mold .
One friend writes that her doctor parents have been “ overcautious ” for a month , and plenty of others have rightfully hunkered down .
If you were born between 1944 and 1964 and are obsessively washing your hands and social-distancing , great !
Keep doing that !
And , yes @ @ @ @ @ @ @ There have been plenty of reports of thirtysomethings going out to brunch or twentysomethings crowding in bars on their now indefinite spring breaks .
But twentysomethings—who , let ’ s be clear , should also take this extremely seriously and stay home—are supposed to feel immortal .
Seventysomethings , less so .
It ’ s a normal part of the life cycle for adult children to start parenting their parents .
This generational role reversal may be a prelude to the demographic shift to come , as baby boomers age out of late-late @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to relinquish their invincibility , while their children take on the burdens of caring for elderly—yes , elderly—parents .
But the pandemic has pressed the issue , putting many people in their thirties and forties in the tense new role of protectors and even scolds .
It ’ s a twisted inverse of the generation gap of the sixties , when young boomers screamed across the table at their parents about Vietnam—except that now we ’ re telling ours not to leave their homes .
The literary agent Lucy Carson pleaded on Twitter @ @ @ @ @ @ @ diabetic boomer parent to stop commuting into the city ?
Rage-sobbing into the phone isn ’ t helping my cause.
” At Vogue , Molly Jong-Fast wrote about a similar dynamic with her “ fabulous feminist mother , ” the generation-chronicling author Erica Jong .
“ I know everyone is going to get mad at me , but this is not about your conflicted feelings about growing older , ” Jong-Fast wrote .
“ This is a global pandemic , a disease that is significantly more lethal than the seasonal flu.
” My @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a new type : “ the YOLO grandparent.
” Some less charitable youngsters have even renamed the virus the “ boomer remover.
” On Sunday , Gavin Newsom , the governor of California , called for the home isolation of residents who are sixty-five and older , which should put a halt to those rogue wine-tasting trips .

The coronavirus poses a unique threat to an age group that, whether they admit it or not, includes them. Photograph by Caroline Schiff / Getty
Last Wednesday night, not long after President Trump’s Oval Office address, I called my mother to check in about the, you know, unprecedented global health crisis that’s happening. She told me that she and my father were in a cab on the way home from a fun dinner at the Polo Bar, in midtown Manhattan, with another couple who were old friends.
“You went to a restaurant?!” I shrieked. This was several days after she had told me, through sniffles, that she was recovering from a cold but didn’t see any reason that she shouldn’t go to the school where she works. Also, she was still hoping to make a trip to Florida at the end of the month. My dad, a lawyer, was planning to go into the office on Thursday, but thought that he might work from home on Friday, if he could figure out how to link up his personal computer. That night, moments after getting into bed, I sprang up and wrote them an anxious e-mail. “I feel like the two of you are not taking serious enough precautions right now,” I told them. “The time is DONE for going out to restaurants, showing up at the office every day, etc. Just stay inside and watch TV!” When I followed up with texts, my mother wrote back sarcastically, “Thanks mom.”
This role reversal was . . . novel. I still think of my parents as the grownups, the ones who lecture me about saving for retirement and intervene in squabbles with my little sister. It took a pandemic to thrust me into the role of the responsible adult and them into the role of the heedless children. I’m thirty-eight, and my mother and father are sixty-eight and seventy-four, respectively. Neither is retired, and both are in good shape. But people sixty-five and older—more than half of the baby-boomer population—are more susceptible to COVID-19 and have a higher mortality rate, and my parents’ blithe behavior was as unsettling as the frantic warnings coming from hospitals in Italy.
As I spoke to my peers, I realized that I wasn’t alone. A lot of us have spent the past week pleading with our baby-boomer parents to cook at home, rip up the cruise tickets, and step away from the grandchildren. My in-laws, who live in Puerto Rico, needed all three of their adult children to persuade them over a group text not to go to Macy’s (or at least to skip communion at church). One friend writes, “My dad is a retired doctor. My mom is a retired nurse. They are both in their early seventies. When I called home to check in on them, no answer. Turns out my mom was ‘at the mall having coffee’ (?!) and my dad was golfing. I yelled at them to stop being rebellious children of the 1960s and to please grow up.” Another says, of his parents, “They just won’t fucking listen to me. I’m going to kill them before COVID does. I’m really upset. They are telling me I’m overreacting by telling them to stop eating out, and my mom keeps going to the office. I won’t let them come here to see the boys (who both have mild fevers and coughs right now, which could be nothing, but obviously a bad idea). They get mad at me when I call them to tell them to just stay the fuck home. My dad is a seventy-one-year-old diabetic.”
I told my mom about what seemed like a trend. “All my friends are saying the same thing,” she texted back, no doubt on her way to a farmers’ market, “that their kids are crazy and treating us like elderly people.”
Allow me to wildly generalize about baby boomers for just a moment (or at least the white, well-off, straight American ones who make up most of my sampling). They were born on a grassy back yard after the Second World War, learned how to duck and cover in elementary school, invented sex in 1967, Jazzercized in 1984, and now run the world and won’t let go. They are retiring later and buying anti-wrinkle cream by the tub-load. As countless trend pieces have pointed out, they don’t like to be called “grandma” and “grandpa”—or even “senior citizens,” even when they indisputably are. And who can blame them? They transformed American culture when they were young, gorgeous, and rebellious, ushering in an ethos of freedom. (I’m told the music was quite good.) They’ve managed to stay productive into their sixties and seventies, bending the idea of aging to their will. Until the millennial barb “O.K., boomer” came along, they may not have realized that they are the least bit out of the mainstream. But now a virus poses a unique threat to an age group that, whether they admit it or not, includes them. Our Boomer-in-Chief is the most prominent denialist. But it’s striking that the first celebrities to announce that they had contracted COVID-19 were Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson, the closest thing that Hollywood has to fun boomer parents. If Forrest Gump can get the coronavirus, so can you, Dad.
Of course, there are many exceptions to the blasé-boomer mold. One friend writes that her doctor parents have been “overcautious” for a month, and plenty of others have rightfully hunkered down. If you were born between 1944 and 1964 and are obsessively washing your hands and social-distancing, great! Keep doing that! And, yes, foolhardiness has no age minimum. There have been plenty of reports of thirtysomethings going out to brunch or twentysomethings crowding in bars on their now indefinite spring breaks. But twentysomethings—who, let’s be clear, should also take this extremely seriously and stay home—are supposed to feel immortal. Seventysomethings, less so. It’s a normal part of the life cycle for adult children to start parenting their parents. This generational role reversal may be a prelude to the demographic shift to come, as baby boomers age out of late-late “middle age” and are forced to relinquish their invincibility, while their children take on the burdens of caring for elderly—yes, elderly—parents.
But the pandemic has pressed the issue, putting many people in their thirties and forties in the tense new role of protectors and even scolds. It’s a twisted inverse of the generation gap of the sixties, when young boomers screamed across the table at their parents about Vietnam—except that now we’re telling ours not to leave their homes. The literary agent Lucy Carson pleaded on Twitter, “Best advice for convincing a diabetic boomer parent to stop commuting into the city? Rage-sobbing into the phone isn’t helping my cause.” At Vogue, Molly Jong-Fast wrote about a similar dynamic with her “fabulous feminist mother,” the generation-chronicling author Erica Jong. “I know everyone is going to get mad at me, but this is not about your conflicted feelings about growing older,” Jong-Fast wrote. “This is a global pandemic, a disease that is significantly more lethal than the seasonal flu.” My colleague Ben Wallace-Wells observed the emergence of a new type: “the YOLO grandparent.” Some less charitable youngsters have even renamed the virus the “boomer remover.” On Sunday, Gavin Newsom, the governor of California, called for the home isolation of residents who are sixty-five and older, which should put a halt to those rogue wine-tasting trips.


newyorker--2020-03-16--How “Love Is Blind” Transcends the Norms of Reality Television

One of the pleasures afforded by the realist novel is the illusion of intimacy .
Alone in the bath or surrounded by others at a party : the novel , at least in theory , can disclose a character in either situation with equal ease .
The only thoughts a character can keep to herself are those her author decides not to reveal .
From how many people in our actual lives can we expect a similar level of physical , emotional , intellectual access ?
The illusion of intimacy was promised also , at least initially , by a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a group of participants in a house , limit their access to the outside world , furnish them with alcohol , and turn the cameras on : surely , eventually , the secret truth of the human animal would be captured on film .
But even on television the laws of physics pertain : the person under observation is necessarily changed by it .
And those who choose to appear on reality television are further transformed by the knowledge of the change that observation can provoke—and also the opportunities that it can provide @ @ @ @ @ @ @ worried that her own instinctive behaviors are in fact deviant , I can think of nothing more intriguing , nor reassuring , than the opportunity to intrude so completely on another ’ s person ’ s privacy .
Unfortunately , the fiction that these programs are capturing anything resembling “ reality ” is now almost impossible to manufacture .
Participants on reality television shows now know both what to expect ( isolation , sleep deprivation , misleading edits ) and what is expected of them ( tears , fights , anything else that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ drama ” ) .
Consciously or unconsciously , they tailor their behavior accordingly .
It sounds like a tautology , but it ’ s not : only people who want to be on reality television now appear on reality television .
The fifteen men and fifteen women of Netflix ’ s reality show “ Love Is Blind ” defy this truism .
Each seems driven by what reads as a genuine desire to find a romantic partner .
In place of coherent personalities , we have people , various and inconsistent , acting @ @ @ @ @ @ @ or hope , lying to themselves and others , and developing , in some cases , what appears to be true affection for one another .
Sitting in adjacent rooms that the show and its participants insist on calling “ pods , ” couples speak to but are unable to see one another .
( This makes “ Love Is Blind ” accidentally perfect for life in the time of a global pandemic .
Now that we ’ re being cautioned to both to distance ourselves physically and keep in touch digitally , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ an impermeable barrier , looks less like an attention-getting premise and more like our inevitable future . )
Across an opaque blue wall— “ It looks , ” one cast member remarks , “ like a scene from ‘ Frozen ’ ” —over a handful of days , men and women ( the pairings are designed to be heterosexual ) exchange pleasantries , build intimacy , say “ I love you.
” Only after a proposal is offered and accepted does a couple get to meet face to face .
The wedding dates @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The conceit speaks to the state of modern romance .
Reading this thoughtful BuzzFeed essay about a man whose boyfriend breaks up with him three days after making their partnership official , I wondered whether getting engaged to someone on camera , sight-unseen , might , in fact , be preferable to enduring app-enabled ( and -perverted ) rituals of real-world dating .
The format guarantees a certain amount of transparency .
On another franchise , a cast member may choose to consciously sacrifice sympathy in pursuit of fame ; on “ Love @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ t get engaged , you ’ re gone by the third episode .
Some combination of these factors has resulted in a show that privileges calm authenticity .
A surprising number of the men on “ Love Is Blind ” turn out to be preternaturally emotionally literate , though they tend to describe their feelings slowly and deliberately , as if submerged under several metres of water , or just emerging from sedation .
Lauren , a thirty-two-year-old content creator who pairs off early with Cameron , a twenty-eight-year-old scientist ( each @ @ @ @ @ @ @ age and a vague occupation ) , has the confidence and self-possession to tell her fiancé , the day before their wedding , that she isn ’ t sure she ’ ll be able to say “ I do ” when the time comes .
( As it turns out , she was ; the couple remains married . )
And , unlike other reality offerings , “ Love Is Blind ” rewards repeated viewings .
I binged the show into the early hours of the morning several days running , desperate to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ When I was out of episodes , what I most wanted to do was start over from the beginning .
The impulse was similar to the one I have after finishing a textually dense but plot-driven novel : now that I knew how it all turned out , I wanted to go back to pick up the dropped clues I ’ d missed the first time around .
The cast member for whom my soul aches most is Jessica , a thirty-four-year-old regional manager from Illinois who has burrowed deep down into the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a home for herself there .
Jessica ’ s relationship to her relationship status is that of a twenty-six-year-old Austen heroine , which is to say : not good .
She ’ s on “ Love Is Blind ” because she ’ s “ ready to start a family ” and “ have the most perfect marriage.
” In the real world , she admits , her standards have been too high .
( “ I would only date a guy between one to five years older .
I would only date athletes @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” ) Now she ’ s ready to lower them .
Jessica quickly finds herself torn between two men : Mark , a twenty-four-year-old fitness instructor , and Barnett , a twenty-seven-year-old engineer .
Though she can ’ t see either , her attraction to Barnett is obvious ( she describes his voice as “ sexy ” ) , as is her lack of attraction to Mark .
When , a few days into the “ experiment , ” an instantly smitten Mark tests the waters— “ You know , I ask you @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to spend the rest of your life with me ?
Like , where ’ s your mind at ?
” —Jessica hesitates before venturing that she can see the two of them “ walking out of here together.
” In his pod , Mark exclaims , in relief , “ That ’ s what I ’ m talking about !
” In hers , Jessica smiles too widely .
“ That ’ s the cutest , ” she says .
But , after a series of embarrassing reversals , it ’ s Mark @ @ @ @ @ @ @ First , she takes too seriously a lukewarm commitment from Barnett ( “ If this place had nobody , no other guys and no other girls , like , I would propose to you tomorrow ” ) , and breaks things off with Mark .
“ You ’ re ten years younger than I am , ” she tells him .
And : “ Like , I have created other connections that look like they could potentially plug into my life , you know.
” But when Barnett breaks things off with her @ @ @ @ @ @ @ former tank mechanic , Jessica tearfully rekindles her relationship with Mark and spends the run-up to their wedding all but gritting her teeth in grim determination .
In talking-head conversations with off-camera producers , Jessica stubbornly proclaims her love for Mark .
( “ Mark has been my rock , and I know that ’ s the right relationship for me .
It ’ s just been hard for me to accept that.
” ) On camera , she all but recoils from his touch and takes opportunities to check in with Barnett @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ doing what ’ s right for you , you know .
”

One of the pleasures afforded by the realist novel is the illusion of intimacy. Alone in the bath or surrounded by others at a party: the novel, at least in theory, can disclose a character in either situation with equal ease. The only thoughts a character can keep to herself are those her author decides not to reveal. From how many people in our actual lives can we expect a similar level of physical, emotional, intellectual access?
The illusion of intimacy was promised also, at least initially, by a certain kind of reality show. Trap a group of participants in a house, limit their access to the outside world, furnish them with alcohol, and turn the cameras on: surely, eventually, the secret truth of the human animal would be captured on film. But even on television the laws of physics pertain: the person under observation is necessarily changed by it. And those who choose to appear on reality television are further transformed by the knowledge of the change that observation can provoke—and also the opportunities that it can provide.
As a naturally anxious person forever worried that her own instinctive behaviors are in fact deviant, I can think of nothing more intriguing, nor reassuring, than the opportunity to intrude so completely on another’s person’s privacy. Unfortunately, the fiction that these programs are capturing anything resembling “reality” is now almost impossible to manufacture. Participants on reality television shows now know both what to expect (isolation, sleep deprivation, misleading edits) and what is expected of them (tears, fights, anything else that might fall under the rubric of “drama”). Consciously or unconsciously, they tailor their behavior accordingly. It sounds like a tautology, but it’s not: only people who want to be on reality television now appear on reality television.
The fifteen men and fifteen women of Netflix’s reality show “Love Is Blind” defy this truism. Each seems driven by what reads as a genuine desire to find a romantic partner. In place of coherent personalities, we have people, various and inconsistent, acting out of fear, or lust, or hope, lying to themselves and others, and developing, in some cases, what appears to be true affection for one another.
Sitting in adjacent rooms that the show and its participants insist on calling “pods,” couples speak to but are unable to see one another. (This makes “Love Is Blind” accidentally perfect for life in the time of a global pandemic. Now that we’re being cautioned to both to distance ourselves physically and keep in touch digitally, watching people communicate in isolation, through an impermeable barrier, looks less like an attention-getting premise and more like our inevitable future.) Across an opaque blue wall—“It looks,” one cast member remarks, “like a scene from ‘Frozen’ ”—over a handful of days, men and women (the pairings are designed to be heterosexual) exchange pleasantries, build intimacy, say “I love you.” Only after a proposal is offered and accepted does a couple get to meet face to face. The wedding dates are set for four weeks later.
The conceit speaks to the state of modern romance. Reading this thoughtful BuzzFeed essay about a man whose boyfriend breaks up with him three days after making their partnership official, I wondered whether getting engaged to someone on camera, sight-unseen, might, in fact, be preferable to enduring app-enabled (and -perverted) rituals of real-world dating. The format guarantees a certain amount of transparency. On another franchise, a cast member may choose to consciously sacrifice sympathy in pursuit of fame; on “Love Is Blind,” if you don’t get engaged, you’re gone by the third episode.
Some combination of these factors has resulted in a show that privileges calm authenticity. A surprising number of the men on “Love Is Blind” turn out to be preternaturally emotionally literate, though they tend to describe their feelings slowly and deliberately, as if submerged under several metres of water, or just emerging from sedation. Lauren, a thirty-two-year-old content creator who pairs off early with Cameron, a twenty-eight-year-old scientist (each cast member is tagged with a precise age and a vague occupation), has the confidence and self-possession to tell her fiancé, the day before their wedding, that she isn’t sure she’ll be able to say “I do” when the time comes. (As it turns out, she was; the couple remains married.)
And, unlike other reality offerings, “Love Is Blind” rewards repeated viewings. I binged the show into the early hours of the morning several days running, desperate to discover each couple’s fate. When I was out of episodes, what I most wanted to do was start over from the beginning. The impulse was similar to the one I have after finishing a textually dense but plot-driven novel: now that I knew how it all turned out, I wanted to go back to pick up the dropped clues I’d missed the first time around.
The cast member for whom my soul aches most is Jessica, a thirty-four-year-old regional manager from Illinois who has burrowed deep down into the dark heart of heterosexist patriarchy and made a home for herself there. Jessica’s relationship to her relationship status is that of a twenty-six-year-old Austen heroine, which is to say: not good. She’s on “Love Is Blind” because she’s “ready to start a family” and “have the most perfect marriage.” In the real world, she admits, her standards have been too high. (“I would only date a guy between one to five years older. I would only date athletes, because I’m really athletic.”) Now she’s ready to lower them.
Jessica quickly finds herself torn between two men: Mark, a twenty-four-year-old fitness instructor, and Barnett, a twenty-seven-year-old engineer. Though she can’t see either, her attraction to Barnett is obvious (she describes his voice as “sexy”), as is her lack of attraction to Mark. When, a few days into the “experiment,” an instantly smitten Mark tests the waters—“You know, I ask you, you know, do you want to spend the rest of your life with me? Like, where’s your mind at?”—Jessica hesitates before venturing that she can see the two of them “walking out of here together.” In his pod, Mark exclaims, in relief, “That’s what I’m talking about!” In hers, Jessica smiles too widely. “That’s the cutest,” she says.
But, after a series of embarrassing reversals, it’s Mark to whom Jessica ends up engaged. First, she takes too seriously a lukewarm commitment from Barnett (“If this place had nobody, no other guys and no other girls, like, I would propose to you tomorrow”), and breaks things off with Mark. “You’re ten years younger than I am,” she tells him. And: “Like, I have created other connections that look like they could potentially plug into my life, you know.” But when Barnett breaks things off with her and proposes to Amber, a twenty-six-year-old former tank mechanic, Jessica tearfully rekindles her relationship with Mark and spends the run-up to their wedding all but gritting her teeth in grim determination. In talking-head conversations with off-camera producers, Jessica stubbornly proclaims her love for Mark. (“Mark has been my rock, and I know that’s the right relationship for me. It’s just been hard for me to accept that.”) On camera, she all but recoils from his touch and takes opportunities to check in with Barnett, to make sure he’s “doing what’s right for you, you know.”
It’s easy, describing Jessica, to paint an unflattering picture. But, to my mind, her energetic, apparently successful self-deception makes her if not endearing then certainly understandable, even sympathetic. (During the reunion episode, Jessica is subdued, even chastened; she seems genuinely appalled by her own behavior as captured by Netflix’s cameras.) Her increasing levels of derangement, the ever-widening gap between the feelings expressed by her words and those demonstrated by her behavior, make a certain kind of sense, given the patently absurd situation in which she’s placed herself.
Even absent the excuse of reality-show gimmicks, Jessica’s behavior is unfortunately recognizable. She is trapped on two sides by expectation: on one, that she marry and start a family; on the other, that the person with whom she do these things be taller and older and wealthier than Mark. The bind she’s in is hardly a tragedy, but the depth of Jessica’s self-alienation is instructive. She’s lived by received ideas for so long that she seems to have lost, at least temporarily, the ability—perhaps even the desire—to discern for herself what feels right from what feels wrong.
In the sixth episode, an inebriated Jessica corners Barnett at his birthday party. She attempts to frame her inquiries as motivated by an unselfish desire to see Barnett happy. (“Do you feel like you guys are emotionally connected?” she asks of his relationship with Amber. “Like, I want to make sure,” she clarifies later, “that y’all are there.”) Jessica’s longing is both obvious and painful to watch. “I do just want to revisit for, like, a minute, like, the fact that, like, you were so confused two weeks ago,” she says, her eyes darting hopefully to Barnett’s.
The conversation ends and the camera cuts to Jessica cuddling in a surprised Mark’s arms. She nuzzles his ear and murmurs, “I love you the most.” The shame I felt while watching wasn’t just for Jessica; it was also for a past version of myself. I, too, have been the girl at the party whose true feelings for the boy to whom she’s oh-so-casually speaking are a secret from no one but herself. Now, thanks to “Love Is Blind,” I know what strangers saw when they looked at me. And, if I’m horrified, well, no one promised that the secret truth of the human animal would be pretty.


newyorker--2020-03-16--Other Medical Experts Jared Kushner Might Consult About COVID-19

On Friday , the Daily Mail reported that Jared Kushner , Donald Trump ’ s senior adviser and son-in-law , who had been entrusted by the President with determining how to respond to the coronavirus pandemic , had asked the medical advice of Kurt Kloss , the physician father of Kushner ’ s sister-in-law , the supermodel Karlie Kloss .
Dr. Kloss , an emergency-room doctor in upstate New York , then wrote to a Facebook group of medical professionals , which numbers twenty-two thousand members , to source ideas for Kushner about how to beat the virus .
Here @ @ @ @ @ @ @ considering reaching out to for help in addressing this national crisis : That one girl with the glasses up in Cambridge , who used to sell all the guys English-lit term papers .
Ugly and smart , so may know about this kind of thing ?
The night doorman at the old Upper East Side building ( Emilio ? )
, who always said stuff like “ Anything you need , Mr. Kushner.
” He might have been talking more about bringing the bags in from the car or holding a package at @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it to reach out , just in case .
Karlie Kloss ’ s mother—married to the dad , so might potentially have something to add .
Dr. Harold Bornstein—great head of hair , so how wrong could he be about anything , really ?
Also a doctor ( I think ? )
.
Chet Haze—said on Instagram the other day that his parents , Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson , weren ’ t “ tripping ” after being infected with the coronavirus , in Australia .
Reassuring and could point the way forward @ @ @ @ @ @ @ American Psycho ” —some great ideas about public health in that book .
Reread ?
President Ronald Reagan—dead but also did an awesome job with the AIDS crisis .
Will likely have good advice .
Kimberly Guilfoyle—told Ivanka that the woman who does her Botox said , “ we have nothing to worry about.
” Something there ?

On Friday, the Daily Mail reported that Jared Kushner, Donald Trump’s senior adviser and son-in-law, who had been entrusted by the President with determining how to respond to the coronavirus pandemic, had asked the medical advice of Kurt Kloss, the physician father of Kushner’s sister-in-law, the supermodel Karlie Kloss. Dr. Kloss, an emergency-room doctor in upstate New York, then wrote to a Facebook group of medical professionals, which numbers twenty-two thousand members, to source ideas for Kushner about how to beat the virus.
Here are some additional people Kushner has been considering reaching out to for help in addressing this national crisis:
That one girl with the glasses up in Cambridge, who used to sell all the guys English-lit term papers. Ugly and smart, so may know about this kind of thing?
The night doorman at the old Upper East Side building (Emilio?), who always said stuff like “Anything you need, Mr. Kushner.” He might have been talking more about bringing the bags in from the car or holding a package at the front desk, but maybe worth it to reach out, just in case.
Karlie Kloss’s mother—married to the dad, so might potentially have something to add.
Dr. Harold Bornstein—great head of hair, so how wrong could he be about anything, really? Also a doctor (I think?).
Chet Haze—said on Instagram the other day that his parents, Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson, weren’t “tripping” after being infected with the coronavirus, in Australia. Reassuring and could point the way forward on a more macro level.
“American Psycho”—some great ideas about public health in that book. Reread?
President Ronald Reagan—dead but also did an awesome job with the AIDS crisis. Will likely have good advice.
Kimberly Guilfoyle—told Ivanka that the woman who does her Botox said, “we have nothing to worry about.” Something there?
Taylor Swift—also knows Karlie.


newyorker--2020-03-16--The Things About the Biden-Sanders Debate That Were Impossible to Explain

Let ’ s say you are reading this in the year 2030 .
The deaths have long been tallied , the immediate histories have been written , and the children born after the pandemic have started school .
The event I will attempt to describe , a debate between two contenders for the Democratic nomination for President , is but a tiny particle in the story of 2020 , which , as you may know , was not only the year of global disaster but also the year of a Presidential election in the United States .
In this story @ @ @ @ @ @ @ footnote—the sort of footnote one might append to the mention of an incomprehensible event .
But who am I kidding ?
It is impossible to explain why , when the coronavirus pandemic was raging , two candidates for the Presidency , the former Vice-President Joe Biden and Senator Bernie Sanders , spent only a quarter of their two hours talking about the crisis .
More than half the states in the country had declared a state of emergency .
Schools and day-care centers had shuttered .
Curfews had been imposed .
States and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ All over the country , people had raided food stores and drugstores ; thermometers , hand sanitizer , and toilet paper had disappeared in many places .
International terminals teemed with terrified people who had rushed home from abroad ; domestic terminals were deserted , and the air around airports was becoming eerily quiet .
Travel , along with the rest of life as we used to know it , was grinding to a halt .
But the two men who would be President acted as if this unprecedented state of affairs were @ @ @ @ @ @ @ one that they seemed eager to leave behind , so they could pick up an ongoing argument about their respective voting records .
It is impossible to explain why neither man , knowing that he had an audience of millions , seized the opportunity to address the public directly .
Why neither said , “ If there is one thing you take away from watching this debate , it is that you should stay home and your parents should stay home and your children should stay home—for your sake and ours .
Many @ @ @ @ @ @ @ right thing by staying home , will forfeit income that your family needs to survive .
This is where we must come together .
The federal government is failing us , but we must not fail one another .
Our states and our communities can devise ways to help the most vulnerable .
Income guarantees must be enacted urgently .
Emergency distribution networks must be activated.
” Instead , the two men spoke as if the disaster were a hypothetical , something that they would deal with only if and when one of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ impossible to explain why Biden , Sanders , and their CNN interviewers seemed to think that it was appropriate to stick to a debate format , and a questionnaire that felt like it had been drafted in a different era .
Why no one in that studio rebelled by saying , “ I don ’ t care what the script says .
We are in a life-and-death crisis in this country , the government is failing us , and here we have the two men who want to run the government and three @ @ @ @ @ @ @ our heads together and start thinking .
Surely this will not shortchange the audience—watching people try to solve a problem together is always informative , and at least we will be doing our best to do what must be done right now.
” Instead , Sanders kept repeating that his idea of leadership is voting for things that are unpopular—or against bills that are popular .
He might be right , and the point might even have been applicable to the present day .
He might have said that leadership today should include @ @ @ @ @ @ @ total shutdown of all public spaces .
But he didn ’ t make that connection , and this is inexplicable .
Several exchanges during the debate were so tone-deaf that they , too , are impossible to explain .
Take Biden talking about education , saying , “ We have come to the position that twelve years of education is not enough for the twenty-first century .
Not enough .
We need sixteen years.
” As he spoke , Sanders was shown laughing .
Then the two began bickering about bankruptcy-bill votes and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , to be sure , but the candidates spoke as though they knew nothing about hundreds of thousands of high-school students staying home ; college students packing to leave campus indefinitely ; proms , graduation ceremonies , and commencements being cancelled ; and college-acceptance notices arriving amid such uncertainty that they can not be celebrated .
To the young people affected , and their families , the candidates must have looked like they inhabited a parallel reality .
When they did talk about the pandemic , Biden and Sanders staked positions in an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ what he saw as the reasons for the coronavirus crisis .
He blamed income inequality , health-care executives , and the pharmaceutical companies —villains , all , but not the causes of the pandemic .
As Biden pointed out , Italy ’ s national health-care system did not provide a barrier against the virus .
To be sure , structural inequality and lack of access to health care will have an impact on death rates in the United States , but for once they are not the root cause of the tragedy .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ the fact that it is not man-made , and not in itself preventable , makes it especially terrifying .
Addressing that fear , rather than trying to ascribe blame , would have constituted leadership .
Biden tried .
At the end of the debate , when the moderators prompted the candidates to return to the nominal topic of their conversation , Biden said , “ I just can ’ t imagine what people are going through right now who ’ ve lost someone already .
I can ’ t imagine what people are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ example , a good friend of ours is sitting outside the window of a nursing home .
.
.
.
I can ’ t imagine the fear and—I guess I can imagine the fear and concern people have .
.
.
.
This is bigger than any individual .
This is bigger than yourself .
This is about America .
This is about the world .
This is about how we bring people together and make the kind of sacrifices we need to make to get this done.
” Then , for the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ said that , if he were President now , he would be sitting in the Situation Room .
Sanders , too , ended the debate on the same note on which he began it—by demanding that blame for the pandemic be assigned to whoever was responsible for creating the wealth gap .
Neither man said , “ The reason for this pandemic is a virus .
We humans are sometimes so very small .
Collectively , we are capable of destroying the planet , but , individually , we are defenseless against an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it .
An organism that appeared at a terrible time , when this country is led by a deranged clown obsessed with his power and his profits .
Rising above this clown and taking action together is a matter of survival .
It can not wait until January , 2021 , when one of us may be able to assemble a Situation Room ; it has to be done now .
It is more important than any debate and any election.
” No one said anything of the sort , and this is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ new customs amid a pandemic .
What it means to contain and mitigate the coronavirus outbreak .
How much of the world is likely to be quarantined ?
Donald Trump in the time of coronavirus .
The coronavirus is likely to spread for more than a year before a vaccine could be widely available .
We are all irrational panic shoppers .
The strange terror of watching the coronavirus take Rome .

Let’s say you are reading this in the year 2030. The deaths have long been tallied, the immediate histories have been written, and the children born after the pandemic have started school. The event I will attempt to describe, a debate between two contenders for the Democratic nomination for President, is but a tiny particle in the story of 2020, which, as you may know, was not only the year of global disaster but also the year of a Presidential election in the United States. In this story, this column is something like a footnote—the sort of footnote one might append to the mention of an incomprehensible event.
But who am I kidding? It is impossible to explain why, when the coronavirus pandemic was raging, two candidates for the Presidency, the former Vice-President Joe Biden and Senator Bernie Sanders, spent only a quarter of their two hours talking about the crisis. More than half the states in the country had declared a state of emergency. Schools and day-care centers had shuttered. Curfews had been imposed. States and cities were closing restaurants and bars. All over the country, people had raided food stores and drugstores; thermometers, hand sanitizer, and toilet paper had disappeared in many places. International terminals teemed with terrified people who had rushed home from abroad; domestic terminals were deserted, and the air around airports was becoming eerily quiet. Travel, along with the rest of life as we used to know it, was grinding to a halt. But the two men who would be President acted as if this unprecedented state of affairs were just one of many agenda points—indeed, one that they seemed eager to leave behind, so they could pick up an ongoing argument about their respective voting records.
It is impossible to explain why neither man, knowing that he had an audience of millions, seized the opportunity to address the public directly. Why neither said, “If there is one thing you take away from watching this debate, it is that you should stay home and your parents should stay home and your children should stay home—for your sake and ours. Many of you, if you do the right thing by staying home, will forfeit income that your family needs to survive. This is where we must come together. The federal government is failing us, but we must not fail one another. Our states and our communities can devise ways to help the most vulnerable. Income guarantees must be enacted urgently. Emergency distribution networks must be activated.” Instead, the two men spoke as if the disaster were a hypothetical, something that they would deal with only if and when one of them were elected President.
It is impossible to explain why Biden, Sanders, and their CNN interviewers seemed to think that it was appropriate to stick to a debate format, and a questionnaire that felt like it had been drafted in a different era. Why no one in that studio rebelled by saying, “I don’t care what the script says. We are in a life-and-death crisis in this country, the government is failing us, and here we have the two men who want to run the government and three smart journalists. Let’s put our heads together and start thinking. Surely this will not shortchange the audience—watching people try to solve a problem together is always informative, and at least we will be doing our best to do what must be done right now.” Instead, Sanders kept repeating that his idea of leadership is voting for things that are unpopular—or against bills that are popular. He might be right, and the point might even have been applicable to the present day. He might have said that leadership today should include championing unpopular measures, such as the total shutdown of all public spaces. But he didn’t make that connection, and this is inexplicable.
Several exchanges during the debate were so tone-deaf that they, too, are impossible to explain. Take Biden talking about education, saying, “We have come to the position that twelve years of education is not enough for the twenty-first century. Not enough. We need sixteen years.” As he spoke, Sanders was shown laughing. Then the two began bickering about bankruptcy-bill votes and student loans. These were important issues, to be sure, but the candidates spoke as though they knew nothing about hundreds of thousands of high-school students staying home; college students packing to leave campus indefinitely; proms, graduation ceremonies, and commencements being cancelled; and college-acceptance notices arriving amid such uncertainty that they cannot be celebrated. To the young people affected, and their families, the candidates must have looked like they inhabited a parallel reality.
When they did talk about the pandemic, Biden and Sanders staked positions in an absurd standoff. Sanders insisted on addressing what he saw as the reasons for the coronavirus crisis. He blamed income inequality, health-care executives, and the pharmaceutical companies —villains, all, but not the causes of the pandemic. As Biden pointed out, Italy’s national health-care system did not provide a barrier against the virus. To be sure, structural inequality and lack of access to health care will have an impact on death rates in the United States, but for once they are not the root cause of the tragedy. The cause is a virus, and the fact that it is not man-made, and not in itself preventable, makes it especially terrifying. Addressing that fear, rather than trying to ascribe blame, would have constituted leadership.
Biden tried. At the end of the debate, when the moderators prompted the candidates to return to the nominal topic of their conversation, Biden said, “I just can’t imagine what people are going through right now who’ve lost someone already. I can’t imagine what people are going through when they have a mom—for example, a good friend of ours is sitting outside the window of a nursing home. . . . I can’t imagine the fear and—I guess I can imagine the fear and concern people have. . . . This is bigger than any individual. This is bigger than yourself. This is about America. This is about the world. This is about how we bring people together and make the kind of sacrifices we need to make to get this done.” Then, for the second time in the debate, he said that, if he were President now, he would be sitting in the Situation Room.
Sanders, too, ended the debate on the same note on which he began it—by demanding that blame for the pandemic be assigned to whoever was responsible for creating the wealth gap. Neither man said, “The reason for this pandemic is a virus. We humans are sometimes so very small. Collectively, we are capable of destroying the planet, but, individually, we are defenseless against an organism so tiny we cannot see it. An organism that appeared at a terrible time, when this country is led by a deranged clown obsessed with his power and his profits. Rising above this clown and taking action together is a matter of survival. It cannot wait until January, 2021, when one of us may be able to assemble a Situation Room; it has to be done now. It is more important than any debate and any election.” No one said anything of the sort, and this is inexplicable.
A Guide to the Coronavirus
How people cope and create new customs amid a pandemic.
What it means to contain and mitigate the coronavirus outbreak.
How much of the world is likely to be quarantined?
Donald Trump in the time of coronavirus.
The coronavirus is likely to spread for more than a year before a vaccine could be widely available.
We are all irrational panic shoppers.
The strange terror of watching the coronavirus take Rome.
How pandemics change history.