newyorker--2020-05-15--Our Fever for Plague Movies

Our Fever for Plague Movies

A cough in the darkness .
A drop of blood on an airport floor .
A visitor from abroad , coming ashore at the docks .
A satellite from space , brought back to us with lumps of unidentified material trapped inside .
If movies are to be believed , there are all sorts of ways in which a pandemic can start .
There is one way , however , more terrifying than any other .
One bearer of mass destruction against which there is no defense , and which none of us could ever have foreseen : Emma Thompson @ @ @ @ @ @ @ odd that such a smart and liberal-minded woman as Thompson should be the root of all calamity .
It ’ s hard to picture her jotting it down on her to-do list : “ Eggs .
Milk .
Global extermination .
Shampoo.
” But there she is , at the beginning of “ I Am Legend ” ( 2007 ) , in the role of Dr. Krippin .
( The name is a none too subtle warning , given the notoriety of the real Dr. Crippen , who was hanged in England , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his wife . )
With a modest smile , the doctor confirms to a TV interviewer that she has , indeed , cured cancer .
All that ’ s required , she says , is a touch of bioengineering—some hooey to do with harnessing the measles virus and pointing it in a new and beneficent direction .
That , at any rate , is the plan .
Regrettably , it goes awry , and the Krippin virus proceeds to do its worst .
Within three years , it kills 5.4 billion people , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s population .
On the plus side , lions are doing fine .
Mass extinction is an old favorite among moviemakers .
They relish the idea that vast numbers of people will , given judicious marketing , pay good money to watch vast numbers of other people being wiped out .
The extinguishing can take many forms .
Ornery extraterrestrials come in useful , and earthquakes are a blast , too , as evidenced in “ Earthquake ” ( 1974 ) , which was a close contest between seismic activity in Southern @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s jaw .
And you can ’ t beat a nice old-fashioned asteroid , although that didn ’ t stop Bruce Willis , in “ Armageddon ” ( 1998 ) , from having a crack .
In the end , however , nothing gets under our skin , or into the spongy lining of our lungs , like a plague film .
Nowhere else do we find so enticing a ratio of frisson to relief .
We are pricked with dread as to what could happen to us , in a time @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with existential smugness , later on , as the lights go up and we realize that nothing has happened .
For now .
The whole genre of fever flicks is having a moment , and the moment has lasted since the start of the year .
It was on the final day of 2019 that the first cases of a new disease were reported in China .
As the coronavirus has evolved from infancy to its peripatetic prime , it has colonized the human conversation .
Whatever your take on the outbreak , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ your point of view .
You want origins ?
Try “ Contagion ” ( 2011 ) , whose closing minutes reveal that a Chinese bat gave something nasty to a pig , which gave it to a chef , who gave it to Gwyneth Paltrow , who generously gave it to mankind .
Don ’ t fancy the zoonotic theory ?
You prefer mad scientists , breeding hell in a jar ?
I propose “ 12 Monkeys ” ( 1995 ) , in which a lab assistant with a ginger ponytail goes through @ @ @ @ @ @ @ something odorless and merciless .
He is off to trot the globe .
Too conspiratorial ?
O.K.
, let ’ s settle for sane scientists , conscientiously doing their duty , until external forces—thieves deployed by a millionaire , in “ The Satan Bug ” ( 1965 ) , or animal liberationists , in “ 28 Days Later ” ( 2003 ) —break in .
The pathogen is stolen or , infinitely worse , set free .
Some of these scenarios , to be honest , are scarier than others .
I soon @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Bug , ” largely because everybody entering the underground research complex , with its multiple levels of security , keeps having to pause while a sliding glass door goes “ pffsschh ” and the air leaks out of the plot .
At the other extreme lies “ World War Z ” ( 2013 ) .
Miss the first ten minutes of that , and you ’ d be too late for the initial burst of strife , with terrified Philadelphians fleeing from something—or somebodies—that we can ’ t yet identify .
Seldom , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ We glimpse a screen , at a military command center , that registers “ Projected Loss , ” and it ’ s already at three billion and counting .
( Think of the National Debt Clock , off Bryant Park , reconfigured for deaths . )
The story requires Brad Pitt , as a former U.N. gofer , to flit between continents in a hectic hunt for a cure , and though much of his quest , in retrospect , could have been conducted via a clever technique known as “ phone calls @ @ @ @ @ @ @ all the way .
“ The biggest cities are the worst off , ” he is told .
“ The airlines were the perfect delivery system.
” Tell me about it .
It could be argued that “ World War Z ” has nothing to tell us , precisely because of the “ Z.
” If I ’ m asked to nominate a film that might suit , or somehow illuminate , our present plight , my first question is always : “ How do you take it ?
With or without zombies @ @ @ @ @ @ @ around trying to stockpile ventilators , or to sew a handy batch of face masks .
He ’ s racing away from people—from those who , once bitten by a zombie , take a few seconds to recompose themselves before jerking back to life , or a crazed facsimile of life , and then swarming to and fro in their hundreds and thousands , seeking whom they may devour .
Much the same goes for “ 28 Days Later ” and its sequel , “ 28 Weeks Later ” ( 2007 ) , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ short notice , transmute even the gentlest soul into a red-eyed ravener , noisily vomiting gore .
Such terrors are not ours .
But they are , so to speak , our regular dreads intensified—superheated , speeded up , and luridly lit .
We worry about being stuck in bed with a rocketing temperature and drenched pajamas ; we worry about our elders , who may be home alone and afraid to be visited , or wrestling for breath in the back of an ambulance .
Such worries are only natural .
Our @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and reason .
They are as rabid as zombies , falling and crawling over themselves to fabricate what comes next .
Dreams travel worstward , during a fever , and one job of the movies is to give our dreams , good or bad , a local habitation and a name .
Say , for example , that your habitation is Manhattan , and that you have it pretty much to yourself .
Is that an all-consuming nightmare or an opportunity for a spree ?
The man to ask is Dr. Robert Neville @ @ @ @ @ @ @ survivor of the Krippin virus , in “ I Am Legend , ” though not quite as lone as you ’ d suppose .
His companions include Sam , a German shepherd , and an assortment of Dark-seekers—very cross cannibalistic types who emerge at night and can ’ t be relied upon for civilized conversation .
No matter .
Smith is an enjoyer by instinct , and the movie works best when Neville barrels up and down the city ’ s weed-infested avenues in a scarlet Mustang , or tees up on a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on the deck of the Intrepid , at Pier 86 , and practices his swing .
“ Yeaahh , ” he says out loud .
“ I ’ m gettin ’ good.
” A rarity among dystopias , this film has the gall to suggest , however briefly , that the apocalypse might be fun .

A similar impulse spurred F. W. Murnau. He was the director of “Nosferatu” (1922) and “Sunrise” (1927), and DeMille’s superior in every respect—apart from longevity, for Murnau died in a car crash, on the Pacific Coast Highway, at the age of forty-one. His most restless creation was “Faust” (1926), all smolder and flare, and the most celebrated image in the film is that of Mephisto, the size of a mountain and the shape of a bat, looming possessively over the neat German town into which he will, at his pleasure, insert the plague. When it arrives, it’s not some invisible foe but a rat-gray mist that creeps through the winding passageways: an effect achieved by the use of a propeller and soot. Yet portent is balanced with pathos. Years before Orson Welles, Murnau recognized that depth of field could be bound up with depths of feeling; notice, near the camera, the feet of a victim, who is unceremoniously picked up and carted away, or the face of an ailing mother, whose distressed daughter, in the background, summons Faust to the sickbed and begs him for aid. No joy. If he is to wield miracles, he will need new powers.
Cartoon by Jared Nangle Copy link to cartoon Copy link to cartoon Shop Shop
“Faust,” like “Nosferatu,” was made in the long shadow of the Spanish flu, which, in little more than a year, starting in March, 1918, killed tens of millions of people. Its direct cultural imprint was remarkably thin, as if the First World War had exhausted our collective will to commemorate, and we must search for traces where we can: a gaunt self-portrait by Edvard Munch, say, who survived the pandemic, or Egon Schiele’s painting of himself and his wife, Edith, both of whom died of the flu in the fall of 1918. There is also a child in the picture, held and protected between Edith’s feet. She was pregnant at the time, so it’s a child-to-be—and, alas, a child that never was.
Nothing so harrowing, it seems, was allowed to intrude upon the movies, though we do have “The Plague in Florence” (1919), written by Fritz Lang, in which the chief purveyor of death is not a hooded fellow with a scythe but a grinning fiddle player who prances past the deceased, as if the melodies had merely made them swoon. Then, there’s the town crier, in “Nosferatu,” who marches down an eerily vacant street to make his announcement. The townsfolk eagerly muster at their windows to catch the news he brings; when he tells them what else they may be catching, they slam the windows shut.
Only one major director has ventured into the zone of corporeal contagion and loitered there. In film after film, from “Shivers” (1975) onward, David Cronenberg has turned his tranquil and fascinated gaze on sights and sounds from which the rest of us might veer in disgust. In “Rabid” (1977), a leech-like proboscis pokes out from a woman’s armpit. More startling still are the glimmers of beauty and wit; I refer you to the opening credits of “The Fly” (1986), when what seems to be a pulsing mob of microbes, viewed as if on a glass slide, gradually resolves itself into a roomful of Homo sapiens. Can you recall a more telling visual pun? Well before the advent of social media, Cronenberg understood what it means to go viral. “A virus is only doing its job. It’s trying to live its life,” he has said. “I think most diseases would be very shocked to be considered diseases at all. It’s a very negative connotation.” Poor little Ebola! Spare a thought for Covid-19!
Cronenberg would be amused and gratified, no doubt, to learn that, while embarking on a private retrospective of his work, I succumbed to the coronavirus. Pretty soon, I couldn’t decide whether I was watching the films or the films were watching me. Perhaps they smelled fresh meat. To see “Shivers” while having the shivers is quite a ride. Other side effects of the virus include splintered sleep, drumming headaches, and special corona dreams, which are like Hieronymus Bosch without the playfulness; would Cronenberg be interested, do you think, in buying the rights to my nights? “Shivers,” with its talk of fatty cysts and abdominal growths, not to mention the charming scene in which a doctor discusses parasites while chomping on a pickle, finds the director already probing our itchy desire to experiment, and to hell with the outcome. Best of all is the movie’s envoi, in which a steady flow of genial couples, all of them infected with a strain of hungry venereal mania, drive smoothly out of an underground garage and head for a night on the town.
Why does Cronenberg disturb our peace? Because he is the bringer of bad news. He lays bare the elements of which we are composed, thereby reminding us that we shall, like all animals, decompose and die. Nowadays, such disclosures are uncalled for, and the classic memento mori (the fulminating broadside from the pulpit, the skull in the hand) is deemed to be in poor taste—unlike a zombie, say, which, though fond of our flesh, has the decency not to reproach us. Never before, in short, has so little heed been paid to the fact of mortality. Previous generations would be staggered to realize that many of us, apart from doctors, nurses, traffic cops, military personnel, and the staff of funeral parlors, may never see a dead body, unboxed, and will feel all the happier for our lack of experience. To be sure, we are assailed by violent films, yet the violence is mainly a magic show, designed to stun the senses and keep us cruelly entertained, whereas to Cronenberg, as to Bergman and Murnau, the spectacle of our demise is more like a weather report. Beware the cold front, and the storm.
There are innumerable areas of the world, of course, where fatal diseases continue to hover on the threshold. And there is no country in which the impoverished and the underprivileged are not the first port of call for a roving malady. In the cozier nooks of the well-furnished and relentlessly medicated West, however, we have told ourselves—or fooled ourselves—that life, far from hanging by a thread, is sitting comfortably, pouring itself a drink, putting on some Michael Bublé, and going nowhere in a hurry. As for the very rich, I suspect that they regard Covid-19 as a personal insult and a slight on their omnipotence: How dare it trespass on their splendor? Can’t it just be paid to go away?
Whether the coronavirus will jolt us from such blitheness, or whether it will be sorted out and set aside as a freakish interlude, it’s far too early to say. As a rule, though, never underestimate our capacity not to learn from our mistakes. Movies are an excellent guide to human error, because they lean so yearningly toward hope—or, if you prefer, stray so comically into self-delusion. Observe the finale of “I Am Legend,” which takes us to the gates of a fortified settlement, run by the uninfected (where did they spring from?), who provide welcoming smiles and a chance to build a new existence. It’s that simple. Even “Contagion,” the most plausible of fever films, comes over all excited at the climax, as one researcher discovers a vaccine with which to beat the plague. Admittedly, she’s played by Jennifer Ehle, and I can think of no one better or calmer to save the world, but, nevertheless, set beside the vast international effort to combat Covid-19, this vision of the heroic loner owes less to scientific practice than to cinematic myth.
Indeed, it’s what you don’t come across, in the swath of plague movies, that seems most bizarre. There are no proper lockdowns, for one thing, or few that aren’t swiftly interrupted; no sooner have the hideaways, in “28 Weeks Later,” sat down to a relaxing candlelit meal than a zombie horde rampages in and starts treating them as entrées. The landscape of lockdown that we have come to know in 2020—the fidgets, the boredom, the halfhearted initiatives, the quality time that shades into a family furor—is anathema to cinema, although Bergman, again, is the exception. In “Shame” (1968), he presents us with a married couple, huddled tight against war rather than contagion, and musing on their enforced leisure. “I’m going to start learning Italian,” the wife says. Her husband replies, “Each morning, after we’ve fed the chickens, we should play music.” Good luck with that. The two of them wind up famished at sea, in a rowboat, with bodies floating by.
For those newly versed in the coronavirus, though, something else is amiss. The average plague film, to be blunt, is all cure and no care. Characters scramble for remedies, often with sensational success. The renaissance of the human race, according to “I Am Legend,” will depend exclusively on a vial of precious blood. But the hard medical slog, such as we witness on the news, with doctors and nurses all but engulfed by the task of tending the sick—by and large, that doesn’t make it into the movies. If you want both sides of the story, I would recommend not a moving picture but a still one. Tintoretto’s “Saint Roch Cures the Plague Victims” was painted in 1549 for the Church of San Rocco, in Venice, where it remains today. The church has been closed of late, Covid-19 having marked Venice on its itinerary and made sure to swing by. Infections have always loved the place. Like tourists, they keep going back.


newyorker--2020-05-15--“Fourteen,” Reviewed: Dan Sallitt’s Vast Vision of Two Friends and the Fault Lines Between Them

The writer and director Dan Sallitt seems to have filmed his new drama , “ Fourteen ” —which will be released digitally on Friday , on Grasshopper Film—in a state of heightened perception , and watching it puts the viewer into a similar state .
It ’ s one of the rare movies in which alertness and creation converge—in which the complex emotional flow of daily life is teased out of its hiding place within ordinary and familiar social codes .
Without any religious sentiment or spiritual haze , Sallitt converts his deceptively calm melodrama into an exaltation , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and tones into a volcano of passion .
The film has a classic setup : two dear friends , both women around thirty , with fault lines between them that have built up tension over decades and are threatening to give way .
It ’ s set in gentrified Brooklyn , amid an educated but nonetheless precarious young middle class .
Mara ( Tallie Medel ) is stretched thin—working as a teacher ’ s aide in a classroom of young children , writing fiction , pursuing a master ’ s degree to advance @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Jo ( Norma Kuhling ) , lives not too far away .
Jo is a social worker , devoted to her clients and filled with ideas about the practice , but she ’ s also a whirlwind of anarchic energy : she can ’ t get up in the morning , she blows off meetings , she doesn ’ t file paperwork .
( She may also have a substance-abuse problem , though Mara ’ s suspicions on the subject prove tough to confirm . )
Mara , by contrast , is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ gets into trouble , and , when she does , it ’ s Mara whom she calls to straighten things out .
Neither woman has an easy time with romantic relationships .
Sallitt keenly unfolds the inevitable and ambiguous overlaps of work and love , as when , in a sequence at the beginning of the film , Mara is preparing to go out to dinner with a guy whom she met through a Rube Goldberg-esque series of connections .
In a brilliant scene of anticipation , Mara and Jo unpack the guy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , standing side by side in front of a blank wall made Abstract Expressionist by a climbing vine .
Their poses and gestures and glances and the intensity of their talk converge to render the flat and tableau-like space in high sculptural relief .
( Moreover , at the dinner , the guy reverses the equation and turns the spotlight on the two women ’ s friendship . )
As both friends push ahead and fall back in their work and love lives , their long-stifled conflicts come to the fore .
Sallitt @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a variety , an impulsive energy that captures overlapping and crisscrossing relationships , analyses , feints , tests , desires , deceptions , and loyalties .
The way his characters talk , abruptly and searchingly , about serious things—about money and sex , work and family , friendship and domesticity , personal histories and grand ambitions—conveys , with humor and emotion , the large stakes at risk in their every interaction .
The density of experience packed into plain scenes of people talking in familiar places and ways suggests the broad span of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ambition .
What ’ s more , the actors capture this all-encompassing spirit—especially Medel and Kuhling , whose poised and thoughtful performances , in scenes together and apart , convey a quietly overwhelming sense of grand designs .
The vast vision that “ Fourteen ” offers is hinted at in its title—it refers to an age , one at which Mara and Jo were already best friends .
With its focus on time and the changes that it brings , “ Fourteen ” is also a minefield of spoilers that I ’ m @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
It ’ s a movie in which end credits are essential ( and Sallitt delivers them with a serenely inventive splendor ) , because even knowing the cast of characters in advance gives away too much .
The credits reveal that Sallitt is not only the writer and director of the film but also its editor .
The editing of “ Fourteen ” is inseparable from its script and its images—is an essential aspect of the drama .
“ Fourteen ” happens to be one of the best-edited films I ’ ve @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a single rapid-montage sequence in the movie ; Sallitt captures the speed of physical action without miming it in editing .
Rather , he uses editing to convey the flow of time in both shockingly simple and audacious ways .
In effect , he transforms the entire hour-and-a-half-long feature into one long montage sequence , which is all the more daring for how it maintains a strict chronological order .
Even as the movie unfolds extended scenes in ample detail , it leaps joltingly ahead from episode to episode , creating an extraordinary @ @ @ @ @ @ @ thrilling yet harrowing urgency .
The very subject of “ Fourteen ” is seizing the day—and attempting to define what that exhortation means .
The pace at which the drama unfolds—both gradually and in leaps—is the very core of the film ’ s subject : the dangers that await when opportunities and connections are missed , when remedies aren ’ t sought , when action is deferred , and , by contrast , the possibilities that arise when time is parsed , action is organized , general emotions and problems analyzed in detail @ @ @ @ @ @ @ looming chaos , about the abyss that threatens to swallow up great ideas and noble intentions and vital personalities—and about the relentless effort that ’ s required to keep anything like a life together .
What ’ s more , it forges that idea into both an aesthetic and an ethic—it ’ s a drama of the physical and emotional labor that , in composing a life and gracing the lives of others , is itself a virtuous beauty .
Sallitt ’ s keenly restrained style shares in this very idea ; built @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , it transcends the conventional form of independent-film realism to realize a philosophical , personal cinema that seems created , fresh and whole , from start to finish .

The writer and director Dan Sallitt seems to have filmed his new drama, “Fourteen”—which will be released digitally on Friday, on Grasshopper Film—in a state of heightened perception, and watching it puts the viewer into a similar state. It’s one of the rare movies in which alertness and creation converge—in which the complex emotional flow of daily life is teased out of its hiding place within ordinary and familiar social codes. Without any religious sentiment or spiritual haze, Sallitt converts his deceptively calm melodrama into an exaltation, and he builds an intricate array of textures and tones into a volcano of passion.
The film has a classic setup: two dear friends, both women around thirty, with fault lines between them that have built up tension over decades and are threatening to give way. It’s set in gentrified Brooklyn, amid an educated but nonetheless precarious young middle class. Mara (Tallie Medel) is stretched thin—working as a teacher’s aide in a classroom of young children, writing fiction, pursuing a master’s degree to advance her teaching career. Her lifelong friend, Jo (Norma Kuhling), lives not too far away. Jo is a social worker, devoted to her clients and filled with ideas about the practice, but she’s also a whirlwind of anarchic energy: she can’t get up in the morning, she blows off meetings, she doesn’t file paperwork. (She may also have a substance-abuse problem, though Mara’s suspicions on the subject prove tough to confirm.) Mara, by contrast, is organized, detail-oriented, responsible; Jo gets into trouble, and, when she does, it’s Mara whom she calls to straighten things out.
Neither woman has an easy time with romantic relationships. Sallitt keenly unfolds the inevitable and ambiguous overlaps of work and love, as when, in a sequence at the beginning of the film, Mara is preparing to go out to dinner with a guy whom she met through a Rube Goldberg-esque series of connections. In a brilliant scene of anticipation, Mara and Jo unpack the guy’s mixed motives and possible deceptions, standing side by side in front of a blank wall made Abstract Expressionist by a climbing vine. Their poses and gestures and glances and the intensity of their talk converge to render the flat and tableau-like space in high sculptural relief. (Moreover, at the dinner, the guy reverses the equation and turns the spotlight on the two women’s friendship.) As both friends push ahead and fall back in their work and love lives, their long-stifled conflicts come to the fore.
Sallitt’s dialogue has a richness, a variety, an impulsive energy that captures overlapping and crisscrossing relationships, analyses, feints, tests, desires, deceptions, and loyalties. The way his characters talk, abruptly and searchingly, about serious things—about money and sex, work and family, friendship and domesticity, personal histories and grand ambitions—conveys, with humor and emotion, the large stakes at risk in their every interaction. The density of experience packed into plain scenes of people talking in familiar places and ways suggests the broad span of Sallitt’s only seemingly modest cinematic ambition. What’s more, the actors capture this all-encompassing spirit—especially Medel and Kuhling, whose poised and thoughtful performances, in scenes together and apart, convey a quietly overwhelming sense of grand designs.
The vast vision that “Fourteen” offers is hinted at in its title—it refers to an age, one at which Mara and Jo were already best friends. With its focus on time and the changes that it brings, “Fourteen” is also a minefield of spoilers that I’m grateful not to have known in advance. It’s a movie in which end credits are essential (and Sallitt delivers them with a serenely inventive splendor), because even knowing the cast of characters in advance gives away too much.
The credits reveal that Sallitt is not only the writer and director of the film but also its editor. The editing of “Fourteen” is inseparable from its script and its images—is an essential aspect of the drama. “Fourteen” happens to be one of the best-edited films I’ve ever seen. There isn’t a single rapid-montage sequence in the movie; Sallitt captures the speed of physical action without miming it in editing. Rather, he uses editing to convey the flow of time in both shockingly simple and audacious ways. In effect, he transforms the entire hour-and-a-half-long feature into one long montage sequence, which is all the more daring for how it maintains a strict chronological order. Even as the movie unfolds extended scenes in ample detail, it leaps joltingly ahead from episode to episode, creating an extraordinary sense of time rushing by, with thrilling yet harrowing urgency.
The very subject of “Fourteen” is seizing the day—and attempting to define what that exhortation means. The pace at which the drama unfolds—both gradually and in leaps—is the very core of the film’s subject: the dangers that await when opportunities and connections are missed, when remedies aren’t sought, when action is deferred, and, by contrast, the possibilities that arise when time is parsed, action is organized, general emotions and problems analyzed in detail. It’s a drama about looming chaos, about the abyss that threatens to swallow up great ideas and noble intentions and vital personalities—and about the relentless effort that’s required to keep anything like a life together. What’s more, it forges that idea into both an aesthetic and an ethic—it’s a drama of the physical and emotional labor that, in composing a life and gracing the lives of others, is itself a virtuous beauty. Sallitt’s keenly restrained style shares in this very idea; built of a concentrated and focussed observational ardor, it transcends the conventional form of independent-film realism to realize a philosophical, personal cinema that seems created, fresh and whole, from start to finish.


newyorker--2020-05-15--Rick Bright, the Coronavirus, and the Pandemic Path Not Taken

Many Americans are replaying , in their minds , the steps they have taken and the choices they have made with regard to the coronavirus crisis , but perhaps few with such tragic force as Rick Bright , who testified in a House hearing on Thursday .
Bright , who in April was transferred from his position as the head of the Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority , which is part of the Department of Health and Human Services , had caused a “ commotion , ” as one colleague put it , by urging more action at pandemic-planning @ @ @ @ @ @ @ February .
At the hearing , Representative John Sarbanes , a Democrat of Maryland , who had a pewter-gray mask around his neck—the members lowered their masks when speaking or , in some cases , when seated—asked Bright to return to that period .
“ I am sure that there are specific conversations , e-mails , moments in time that you remember like they happened yesterday , ” Sarbanes said .
Could he recall any particularly haunting ones that had caused a “ sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach ?
” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ d received in late January from an American mask manufacturer who warned , “ ‘ We ’ re in deep shit .
The world is .
And we need to act.
’ ” He said , “ And I pushed that forward to the highest levels I could in H.H.S.
, and got no response .
From that moment , I knew that we were going to have a crisis—our health-care workers—because we were not taking action .
We were already behind the ball .
That was our last window of opportunity @ @ @ @ @ @ @ save the lives of those health-care workers .
And we didn ’ t act.
” Sarbanes observed that there was “ one inescapable conclusion ” to be drawn from Bright ’ s testimony : “ It didn ’ t have to be that way .
There was another path .
Things could have gone differently.
” It is , at this point—with more than eighty thousand people in the U.S. dead , and , for New Yorkers , the experience barely behind us of the days when the city ’ s health system @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ t properly be dealt with—hard to say otherwise .
Yet almost no one in the Trump Administration has said so , and certainly no one at Bright ’ s level .
On May 5th , Bright filed a formal whistle-blower complaint with the Office of Special Counsel , alleging that his removal and transfer to a less prominent role at the National Institutes of Health was a punishment for , among other things , his outspokenness on pandemic preparation .
Whistle-blower complaints are often complicated ; Bright ’ s , for example @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as the politically motivated awarding of contracts , going back to 2017 .
Trump has dismissed him , on Twitter , as a “ disgruntled employee , ” which sounds like a fairly sane kind of employee to be in the context of this Administration .
( Trump also said that he didn ’ t know Bright at all , but that he wasn ’ t “ liked ” and had the wrong “ attitude.
” ) Last week , the Office of Special Counsel found that there were “ reasonable grounds ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ against , and an inquiry is ongoing .
In the hearing , Republican members repeatedly harped on what they viewed as his insufficient enthusiasm , while he was at BARDA , for hydroxychloroquine , a remedy promoted by Trump .
Someone had to say what Bright said .
The course of the pandemic in this country could have been different ; the United States failed , and it didn ’ t have to .
“ I believe that there were critical steps we did not take in time , ” Bright noted .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ endangered and , I believe , lives were lost.
” BARDA is supposed to be involved in pandemic preparation , and many of the questions that Bright asked—not just about masks but about testing supplies and plans for vaccines—remain unanswered .
He said that many health workers are still forced to make do with inadequate or substandard equipment .
To read his whistle-blower complaint is to become alarmed about , among many other things , whether the United States will even have the syringes it will need to administer a vaccine when there @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in terms of the future distribution of vaccines and treatments , Bright pointed out , is the confusion surrounding the allocation to hospitals of remdesivir , one of the few coronavirus treatments to show potential for at least reducing the length of hospital stays .
There still doesn ’ t seem to be an overarching strategic plan for dealing with the pandemic .
As a result , Bright said , we have increased the possibility that a second wave in the fall could culminate in the “ darkest winter in American history.
” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that it doesn ’ t have to be that way .
One of the themes of Bright ’ s testimony was the importance of being honest with the public .
Representative Nanette Barragán , a Democrat of California , quoted several of Trump ’ s dismissive comments about the pandemic ( January 24th : “ it will all work out well ” ; March 10th : “ It will go away ” ) and asked about the consequence of such statements .
“ We did not forewarn people , ” Bright replied .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ social distancing and wearing a mask , as we should have in January and February.
” That was also a lost opportunity to save lives , and was intertwined with other failures .
For example , Bright said , in both his testimony and his complaint , that one of the answers he received from other officials to his early warnings about mask supplies was that they hadn ’ t run out yet , and , if it ended up that they did face a shortage , they could just change the C.D.C @ @ @ @ @ @ @ don ’ t need ” masks not to buy or wear them .
He had replied that he could not believe they had said that “ with a straight face.
” Perhaps he shouldn ’ t have been surprised .
There are undoubtedly many opportunities , while in the Trump Administration , to become accustomed to trying to cover incompetence with misdirection and dishonesty .
( Atul Gawande wrote this week that a review of research “ suggests that if at least sixty per cent of the population wore masks that were just @ @ @ @ @ @ @ well-fitting , two-layer cotton mask is—the epidemic could be stopped.
” ) In another series of questions , the Democratic congresswoman Doris Matsui , also of California , asked Bright if various failures to heed warnings would “ ultimately shorten or lengthen the time it takes for our country to safely reopen and recover from the coronavirus pandemic.
” She listed several : the slow start on vaccines , the delay in allocating resources , the failure of coördination .
Yes , Bright said—it all meant that it would take longer to safely @ @ @ @ @ @ @ shortage of masks , and what that had meant , he added another point : “ No time to reopen our country will bring those people back to us.
” In the middle of a pandemic , looking forward can also mean looking backward .
• Twenty-four hours at the epicenter of the pandemic : nearly fifty New Yorker writers and photographers fanned out to document life in New York City on April 15th .
• Seattle leaders let scientists take the lead in responding to the coronavirus .
New York leaders did @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the disease and rescue the economy ?
• What the coronavirus has revealed about American medicine .
• Can we trace the spread of COVID-19 and protect privacy at the same time ?
• The coronavirus is likely to spread for more than a year before a vaccine is widely available .
• How to practice social distancing , from responding to a sick housemate to the pros and cons of ordering food .
• The long crusade of Dr. Anthony Fauci , the infectious-disease expert pinned between Donald Trump and the American @ @ @ @ @ @ @ watch , cook , and listen to under quarantine .

Many Americans are replaying, in their minds, the steps they have taken and the choices they have made with regard to the coronavirus crisis, but perhaps few with such tragic force as Rick Bright, who testified in a House hearing on Thursday. Bright, who in April was transferred from his position as the head of the Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority, which is part of the Department of Health and Human Services, had caused a “commotion,” as one colleague put it, by urging more action at pandemic-planning meetings as far back as January and February. At the hearing, Representative John Sarbanes, a Democrat of Maryland, who had a pewter-gray mask around his neck—the members lowered their masks when speaking or, in some cases, when seated—asked Bright to return to that period. “I am sure that there are specific conversations, e-mails, moments in time that you remember like they happened yesterday,” Sarbanes said. Could he recall any particularly haunting ones that had caused a “sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach?”
Bright answered by speaking about e-mails he’d received in late January from an American mask manufacturer who warned, “ ‘We’re in deep shit. The world is. And we need to act.’ ” He said, “And I pushed that forward to the highest levels I could in H.H.S., and got no response. From that moment, I knew that we were going to have a crisis—our health-care workers—because we were not taking action. We were already behind the ball. That was our last window of opportunity to turn on that production, to save the lives of those health-care workers. And we didn’t act.”
Sarbanes observed that there was “one inescapable conclusion” to be drawn from Bright’s testimony: “It didn’t have to be that way. There was another path. Things could have gone differently.” It is, at this point—with more than eighty thousand people in the U.S. dead, and, for New Yorkers, the experience barely behind us of the days when the city’s health system was so overwhelmed that the dead couldn’t properly be dealt with—hard to say otherwise. Yet almost no one in the Trump Administration has said so, and certainly no one at Bright’s level. On May 5th, Bright filed a formal whistle-blower complaint with the Office of Special Counsel, alleging that his removal and transfer to a less prominent role at the National Institutes of Health was a punishment for, among other things, his outspokenness on pandemic preparation. Whistle-blower complaints are often complicated; Bright’s, for example, includes disputes over what he saw as the politically motivated awarding of contracts, going back to 2017. Trump has dismissed him, on Twitter, as a “disgruntled employee,” which sounds like a fairly sane kind of employee to be in the context of this Administration. (Trump also said that he didn’t know Bright at all, but that he wasn’t “liked” and had the wrong “attitude.”) Last week, the Office of Special Counsel found that there were “reasonable grounds” to believe that Bright had been retaliated against, and an inquiry is ongoing. In the hearing, Republican members repeatedly harped on what they viewed as his insufficient enthusiasm, while he was at BARDA, for hydroxychloroquine, a remedy promoted by Trump.
Someone had to say what Bright said. The course of the pandemic in this country could have been different; the United States failed, and it didn’t have to. “I believe that there were critical steps we did not take in time,” Bright noted. As a result, “lives were endangered and, I believe, lives were lost.” BARDA is supposed to be involved in pandemic preparation, and many of the questions that Bright asked—not just about masks but about testing supplies and plans for vaccines—remain unanswered. He said that many health workers are still forced to make do with inadequate or substandard equipment. To read his whistle-blower complaint is to become alarmed about, among many other things, whether the United States will even have the syringes it will need to administer a vaccine when there is one. Another worrisome sign, in terms of the future distribution of vaccines and treatments, Bright pointed out, is the confusion surrounding the allocation to hospitals of remdesivir, one of the few coronavirus treatments to show potential for at least reducing the length of hospital stays. There still doesn’t seem to be an overarching strategic plan for dealing with the pandemic. As a result, Bright said, we have increased the possibility that a second wave in the fall could culminate in the “darkest winter in American history.” But the corollary, again, is that it doesn’t have to be that way.
One of the themes of Bright’s testimony was the importance of being honest with the public. Representative Nanette Barragán, a Democrat of California, quoted several of Trump’s dismissive comments about the pandemic (January 24th: “it will all work out well”; March 10th: “It will go away”) and asked about the consequence of such statements. “We did not forewarn people,” Bright replied. “We did not educate them on social distancing and wearing a mask, as we should have in January and February.” That was also a lost opportunity to save lives, and was intertwined with other failures. For example, Bright said, in both his testimony and his complaint, that one of the answers he received from other officials to his early warnings about mask supplies was that they hadn’t run out yet, and, if it ended up that they did face a shortage, they could just change the C.D.C. guidelines and tell people who “don’t need” masks not to buy or wear them. He had replied that he could not believe they had said that “with a straight face.” Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised. There are undoubtedly many opportunities, while in the Trump Administration, to become accustomed to trying to cover incompetence with misdirection and dishonesty. (Atul Gawande wrote this week that a review of research “suggests that if at least sixty per cent of the population wore masks that were just sixty-per-cent effective in blocking viral transmission—which a well-fitting, two-layer cotton mask is—the epidemic could be stopped.”)
In another series of questions, the Democratic congresswoman Doris Matsui, also of California, asked Bright if various failures to heed warnings would “ultimately shorten or lengthen the time it takes for our country to safely reopen and recover from the coronavirus pandemic.” She listed several: the slow start on vaccines, the delay in allocating resources, the failure of coördination. Yes, Bright said—it all meant that it would take longer to safely reopen. But, speaking about the shortage of masks, and what that had meant, he added another point: “No time to reopen our country will bring those people back to us.” In the middle of a pandemic, looking forward can also mean looking backward.
A Guide to the Coronavirus


newyorker--2020-05-15--Have the Record Number of Investors in the Stock Market Lost Their Minds?

This past weekend , I drove out to Bethpage State Park , the public golf mecca on Long Island that Robert Moses built during the Great Depression .
The park , which has five courses , recently reopened with new safety rules : no carts , no clubhouse amenities , and payments processed in advance by phone .
Among the three players I got teamed up with was a local retiree who had returned from Florida just in time for the lockdown .
As we social-distanced our way around the Red course , I asked how he was filling his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ watching television and trading in the stock market .
That sounded dangerous , I ventured , but my playing partner dismissed my concerns .
He had faith in the market , he said , and , in any case , he had set aside a fixed sum , to limit his exposure .
The stock market fell for three days in a row to start this week , and Jerome Powell , the chairman of the Federal Reserve , said on Wednesday that there is a growing sense that “ the recovery may @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” In a Zoom presentation to the Economic Club of New York , on Tuesday , Stanley Druckenmiller , a former hedge-fund manager who now invests his own money , said , “ The risk-reward for equity ” —that is , stocks— “ is maybe as bad as I ’ ve seen it in my career.
” And yet many small investors , like my golfing companion , do not seem fazed by warnings like these .
Since the Dow plunged more than ten thousand points in February and March , individual traders @ @ @ @ @ @ @ record rates .
On Thursday , E-Trade , the discount brokerage , reported that its daily trading volume in April was more than three times as large as it was in April , 2019 .
Other discount brokers have reported similar figures .
TD Ameritrade said that it did more than three million trades a day in April , compared with eight hundred and seventeen thousand a year earlier .
This trading frenzy is taking place in the context of a price war that has prompted firms such as E-Trade , TD Ameritrade @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for stock purchases and sales , exchange-traded funds , and index options .
Since the shutdowns began , many investors have taken advantage of this era of free trades , which began last fall , well before the coronavirus pandemic hit , to exploit what they seem to view as a good money-making opportunity .
In March alone , TD Ameritrade added more than four hundred thousand accounts , CNBC ’ s Maggie Fitzgerald reported earlier this week .
Charles Schwab added nearly three hundred thousand accounts .
In rational terms , getting @ @ @ @ @ @ @ had a substantial impact .
If you invest five thousand dollars in Apple or Tesla , the five or ten dollars you saved in fees won ’ t have much effect on the ultimate outcome .
“ How much trading would you have to do for it to make a difference ?
” Richard Thaler , an economist at the University of Chicago—who was awarded the 2017 Nobel Memorial Prize in Economic Sciences , for his contribution to behavioral economics—said to me on Thursday , when I called and asked him about the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ other hand , Thaler added , “ Free is always appealing .
Everybody likes a free lunch , even though my colleagues don ’ t think they exist.
” Having taken a friendly jab at the Chicago disciples of Milton Friedman , Thaler said that nobody really knows what is driving all the stock trading .
“ It could be that it ’ s just a lot of people have a lot of time on their hands , ” he said .
“ One friend suggested to me it is replacing gambling .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ no sports to bet on.
” For some active traders , this theory does seem to apply .
“ I like betting on sports , ” Dave Portnoy , the founder of Barstool Sports , told Business Insider .
“ Sports ended , and this was something that was still going that I could do during the day.
” After the shutdowns began , Portnoy put three million dollars in an E-Trade account “ to play around with.
” He ’ s been busy sharing his exploits with his large Twitter following .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ , “ I ’ m up fifty grand.
” ) Of course , most investors don ’ t have the same resources as Portnoy , who made a fortune earlier this year when a big gambling company took a majority stake in his Web site .
And many small investors aren ’ t day-trading .
They are simply moving money into exchange-traded funds or blue-chip stocks , some of which are still pretty beaten up , while others , such as Apple and Alphabet , have already made up most of their losses @ @ @ @ @ @ @ who shared the 2013 Nobel Prize in Economic Sciences , for his studies of what drives stock prices , suggested to me that investors are responding to a widely shared narrative that says stock prices tend to rebound sharply after a big fall , and that you have to get in early to make the biggest gains .
“ I hear the term ‘ “ V ” -shaped ’ a lot , ” he said .
Shiller ’ s book “ Irrational Exuberance , ” from 2000 , came out just before the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Economics : How Stories Go Viral and Drive Major Economic Events , ” from last year , explores what he describes as the power of “ contagious popular stories that spread through word of mouth , the news media , and social media.
” In standard economic theory , investors are supposed to carefully weigh things like the level of prices , interest rates , and expected profits before they invest .
But Shiller told me that “ a narrative is often more emotionally compelling and resonant than an argument about valuation or @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the end of 2018 , and again in the spring of last year , the market did rebound , and quickly reached new highs .
This strengthened the “ V ” -shaped ” narrative , Shiller said .
So does the widespread belief that the Federal Reserve , through its massive asset purchases , has put a floor under the stock market .
“ The consensus seems to be , ‘ Don ’ t worry , the Fed has your back , ’ ” Druckenmiller said in his presentation .
“ There ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ analysis says it ’ s not true.
” Stocks don ’ t always rebound in a “ V ” shape .
During the last lengthy bear market , which accompanied the Great Recession , stocks prices started falling in September , 2007 , and didn ’ t bottom out until February , 2009 , seventeen months later .
During the Great Depression , in the nineteen-thirties , the bear market lasted even longer .
It began with the Wall Street crash of October , 1929 , and lasted until the middle of 1932 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ down about eighty per cent from its pre-crash peak .
Stocks didn ’ t hit new highs until the nineteen-fifties .
In the current context , that seems like a scary narrative .
Shiller told me that he had been thinking about the Great Depression , too .
In early 1930 , he reminded me , the stock market rallied for a while , much like it is doing now , only to roll over and go into another remorseless decline .
“ But nobody remembers that , ” Shiller said .
“ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Some people do study historical episodes , of course .
On Tuesday , Scott Minerd , the chief global investment officer at the Wall Street firm Guggenheim Partners , wrote on Twitter , “ Stocks have clearly topped the recent uptrend .
Now we find out if this is 1930 all over again.
” At the end of this week , stocks ended their three-day losing streak .
The Dow Jones Industrial Average jumped nearly four hundred points on Thursday , and on Friday it rose another sixty points .
Until we see @ @ @ @ @ @ @ coming months , we won ’ t know for sure if the optimism and derring-do that small investors are exhibiting is justified or crazy .
A rapid recovery could generate a big rebound in corporate profits , which would be supportive of the stock market .
An extended economic slump could decimate earnings for years , which would surely crush stocks .
Shiller said that he “ gives some probability ” to the optimistic scenario .
But he also issued a warning to investors : being in the market at this point is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the ultimate outcome of the pandemic is shrouded in so much uncertainty .
“ It ’ s like saying when the next war will be , ” he said .
“ There are too many factors to consider.
” For now , at least , many small investors seem happy to ignore these uncertainties and crank up their online trading accounts .
They ’ d be safer sticking to golf .

This past weekend, I drove out to Bethpage State Park, the public golf mecca on Long Island that Robert Moses built during the Great Depression. The park, which has five courses, recently reopened with new safety rules: no carts, no clubhouse amenities, and payments processed in advance by phone. Among the three players I got teamed up with was a local retiree who had returned from Florida just in time for the lockdown. As we social-distanced our way around the Red course, I asked how he was filling his time. He said that he was watching television and trading in the stock market. That sounded dangerous, I ventured, but my playing partner dismissed my concerns. He had faith in the market, he said, and, in any case, he had set aside a fixed sum, to limit his exposure.
The stock market fell for three days in a row to start this week, and Jerome Powell, the chairman of the Federal Reserve, said on Wednesday that there is a growing sense that “the recovery may come more slowly than we would like.” In a Zoom presentation to the Economic Club of New York, on Tuesday, Stanley Druckenmiller, a former hedge-fund manager who now invests his own money, said, “The risk-reward for equity”—that is, stocks—“is maybe as bad as I’ve seen it in my career.” And yet many small investors, like my golfing companion, do not seem fazed by warnings like these. Since the Dow plunged more than ten thousand points in February and March, individual traders have been buying and selling stocks at record rates. On Thursday, E-Trade, the discount brokerage, reported that its daily trading volume in April was more than three times as large as it was in April, 2019. Other discount brokers have reported similar figures. TD Ameritrade said that it did more than three million trades a day in April, compared with eight hundred and seventeen thousand a year earlier.
This trading frenzy is taking place in the context of a price war that has prompted firms such as E-Trade, TD Ameritrade, and Charles Schwab to eliminate commissions for stock purchases and sales, exchange-traded funds, and index options. Since the shutdowns began, many investors have taken advantage of this era of free trades, which began last fall, well before the coronavirus pandemic hit, to exploit what they seem to view as a good money-making opportunity. In March alone, TD Ameritrade added more than four hundred thousand accounts, CNBC’s Maggie Fitzgerald reported earlier this week. Charles Schwab added nearly three hundred thousand accounts.
In rational terms, getting rid of commissions shouldn’t have had a substantial impact. If you invest five thousand dollars in Apple or Tesla, the five or ten dollars you saved in fees won’t have much effect on the ultimate outcome. “How much trading would you have to do for it to make a difference?” Richard Thaler, an economist at the University of Chicago—who was awarded the 2017 Nobel Memorial Prize in Economic Sciences, for his contribution to behavioral economics—said to me on Thursday, when I called and asked him about the surge in online trading. On the other hand, Thaler added, “Free is always appealing. Everybody likes a free lunch, even though my colleagues don’t think they exist.” Having taken a friendly jab at the Chicago disciples of Milton Friedman, Thaler said that nobody really knows what is driving all the stock trading. “It could be that it’s just a lot of people have a lot of time on their hands,” he said. “One friend suggested to me it is replacing gambling. The casinos are closed and there are no sports to bet on.”
For some active traders, this theory does seem to apply. “I like betting on sports,” Dave Portnoy, the founder of Barstool Sports, told Business Insider. “Sports ended, and this was something that was still going that I could do during the day.” After the shutdowns began, Portnoy put three million dollars in an E-Trade account “to play around with.” He’s been busy sharing his exploits with his large Twitter following. (On Friday morning, he reported, “I’m up fifty grand.”) Of course, most investors don’t have the same resources as Portnoy, who made a fortune earlier this year when a big gambling company took a majority stake in his Web site. And many small investors aren’t day-trading. They are simply moving money into exchange-traded funds or blue-chip stocks, some of which are still pretty beaten up, while others, such as Apple and Alphabet, have already made up most of their losses.
The Yale economist Robert Shiller, who shared the 2013 Nobel Prize in Economic Sciences, for his studies of what drives stock prices, suggested to me that investors are responding to a widely shared narrative that says stock prices tend to rebound sharply after a big fall, and that you have to get in early to make the biggest gains. “I hear the term ‘ “V”-shaped’ a lot,” he said. Shiller’s book “Irrational Exuberance,” from 2000, came out just before the dot-com bubble burst, and “Narrative Economics: How Stories Go Viral and Drive Major Economic Events,” from last year, explores what he describes as the power of “contagious popular stories that spread through word of mouth, the news media, and social media.” In standard economic theory, investors are supposed to carefully weigh things like the level of prices, interest rates, and expected profits before they invest. But Shiller told me that “a narrative is often more emotionally compelling and resonant than an argument about valuation or something else.”
After stocks dipped at the end of 2018, and again in the spring of last year, the market did rebound, and quickly reached new highs. This strengthened the “ ‘V’-shaped” narrative, Shiller said. So does the widespread belief that the Federal Reserve, through its massive asset purchases, has put a floor under the stock market. “The consensus seems to be ‘Don’t worry, the Fed has your back,’ ” Druckenmiller said in his presentation. “There’s one problem with that: our analysis says it’s not true.”
Stocks don’t always rebound in a “V” shape. During the last lengthy bear market, which accompanied the Great Recession, stocks prices started falling in September, 2007, and didn’t bottom out until February, 2009, seventeen months later. During the Great Depression, in the nineteen-thirties, the bear market lasted even longer. It began with the Wall Street crash of October, 1929, and lasted until the middle of 1932; by then, the market was down about eighty per cent from its pre-crash peak. Stocks didn’t hit new highs until the nineteen-fifties.
In the current context, that seems like a scary narrative. Shiller told me that he had been thinking about the Great Depression, too. In early 1930, he reminded me, the stock market rallied for a while, much like it is doing now, only to roll over and go into another remorseless decline. “But nobody remembers that,” Shiller said. “The recent past is more resonant.” Some people do study historical episodes, of course. On Tuesday, Scott Minerd, the chief global investment officer at the Wall Street firm Guggenheim Partners, wrote on Twitter, “Stocks have clearly topped the recent uptrend. Now we find out if this is 1930 all over again.”
At the end of this week, stocks ended their three-day losing streak. The Dow Jones Industrial Average jumped nearly four hundred points on Thursday, and on Friday it rose another sixty points. Until we see what happens to the economy in the coming months, we won’t know for sure if the optimism and derring-do that small investors are exhibiting is justified or crazy. A rapid recovery could generate a big rebound in corporate profits, which would be supportive of the stock market. An extended economic slump could decimate earnings for years, which would surely crush stocks.
Shiller said that he “gives some probability” to the optimistic scenario. But he also issued a warning to investors: being in the market at this point is much riskier than it appears, because the ultimate outcome of the pandemic is shrouded in so much uncertainty. “It’s like saying when the next war will be,” he said. “There are too many factors to consider.” For now, at least, many small investors seem happy to ignore these uncertainties and crank up their online trading accounts. They’d be safer sticking to golf.


newyorker--2020-05-15--Jill Lepore on How a Pandemic Ends

Jill Lepore on How a Pandemic Ends

Jill Lepore looks back on the end of the polio epidemic and how receiving a vaccine became a time stamp @ @ @ @ @ Remnick talks with three mayors about the challenges of reopening their cities and the controversial @ @ @ @ @ .
And Jia Tolentino talks with the musician Perfume Genius about releasing an album during @ @ @ @ @ the desperate measures taken to protect children from polio in a time no less frightening @ @ @ @ @ how the disease was then forgotten .
David Remnick speaks with three mayors from across @ @ @ @ @ controversial politics of reopening .
Anthony Lane on Outbreaks in the Movies The film critic @ @ @ @ @ extensive review of plague-themed cinema .
The musician describes releasing an album in quarantine and @ @ @ @ @ other side of trauma .

Illustration by Golden Cosmos
Download a transcript.
Jill Lepore looks back on the end of the polio epidemic and how receiving a vaccine became a time stamp for a generation. David Remnick talks with three mayors about the challenges of reopening their cities and the controversial politics of such a decision. And Jia Tolentino talks with the musician Perfume Genius about releasing an album during quarantine.
Jill Lepore on How a Pandemic Ends
A historian recalls the desperate measures taken to protect children from polio in a time no less frightening than our own, and how the disease was then forgotten.
Mayors Describe the Challenge of Safely Ending Lockdown
David Remnick speaks with three mayors from across the country who describe the controversial politics of reopening.
Anthony Lane on Outbreaks in the Movies
The film critic shares his picks from an extensive review of plague-themed cinema.
Perfume Genius Talks with Jia Tolentino
The musician describes releasing an album in quarantine and working his way to the other side of trauma.


newyorker--2020-05-15--An A.F.L.-C.I.O. Adviser Considers the Future of American Workers

The coronavirus pandemic has crashed the economy , putting more than twenty million people out of work during the month of April alone , and forcing millions more to do their jobs in dangerous conditions .
The crisis has also added to the strain on organized labor , which has seen its bargaining power shrink in recent years .
Meanwhile , President Trump is once again aiming his campaign at the Midwestern swing states that he won over Hillary Clinton in 2016 , and making a pitch to union voters that his record on trade and China is tougher than @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Joe Biden .
To talk about the state of organized labor and what the pandemic means for the future of American workers , I spoke by phone with Michael Podhorzer , the former political director of the A.F.L.-C.I.O.
, who now serves as a senior adviser to the union ’ s president , Richard Trumka .
In our conversation , which has been edited for length and clarity , we also discussed how calamities in American history have opened up space for both workers ’ rights and political demagoguery , what Democrats need @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the role of college education in America ’ s polarized politics .
What issues regarding American workers are at the front of your mind right now ?
We are in a moment of extreme crisis if you ’ re a working person , and union members are among the front-line workers , or essential workers—people who are keeping our grocery stores in stock and people who do public transit .
Every day , we hear stories about the people who have passed—union members who have been carrying on that fight .
The sectors @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the front line of keeping America moving right now .
We are very disturbed , and we ’ re in a constant struggle to make sure that enough is being done to keep those workers safe and that they ’ re getting enough equipment .
That ’ s a big part of my day .
Also , for working people , whether they ’ re union members or not , the way in which the CARES Act and the Trump Administration decided to deal with this betrays the sort of shortsightedness that Trump @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the spread of the virus .
CARES basically acts as if this is a short-term problem—that you write some checks to people and put them on unemployment and everything will be better soon .
But we ’ re looking at a nation and an economy that ’ s going to be different .
We ’ re not going back to the normal of February or January .
We ’ re evolving into a new economy , and we ’ re not preparing for it .
That is leaving tens of millions of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ What would preparing for it look like ?
First of all , understanding that the job loss is not short-term , and that there are a couple of components to the job loss .
The immediate job loss is because things are shut down , but the long-term job loss is going to be because there ’ s less aggregate demand in the economy .
While we all want the economy to rebound , it won ’ t if working people and the middle class don ’ t have jobs and the resources @ @ @ @ @ @ @ at most of the countries in Western Europe , which is rarely done in media coverage , and they ’ re taking a completely different approach .
They ’ re providing working people with payroll support .
Instead of forcing people to lose a sense of identity and purpose and making them unemployed , they are preserving their dignity .
Instead of the way we do it here , where we force someone out of their job and tell them to go into this Byzantine , archaic , draconian , punitive unemployment system @ @ @ @ @ @ @ help tide them over , you make the aid go to businesses to keep the people employed or we ’ re not giving you the check .
That ’ s just something we ’ re not doing in the United States .
That would lead to a much more stable future here .
You may think that you ’ re going back to your job the way it was , but it ’ s not going to be that way , because even the C.B.O .
is estimating that unemployment will still be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ unemployment is that high , it means that your wages are going to go down .
If you were working in McDonald ’ s , then , if you get your job back at McDonald ’ s , it ’ s not going to be for what you were getting before .
They ’ re going to make less .
Your job is partially about thinking through the political consequences of all of this .
What are your overarching thoughts right now on what those are likely to be ?
I think that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ understand at this point , because we ’ re only at the beginning .
I ’ ve spent a lot of time in a lot of conversations with people about this , but I ’ m humbled by looking back at similar moments , like the first months and year after the stock-market crash that set off the Great Depression .
If you go back and read the headlines , no one had any clue what was actually going to come in the nineteen-thirties .
When you disrupt society the way this is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ new political alliances and realignments that are very difficult for mere mortals to see coming .
After the Great Depression , which was obviously an incredible calamity for workers , and then , following that , the Second World War , which was a calamity for a lot of people , we saw an era with some real gains for the labor movement .
How can you repeat that ?
I think that , so far , the piece of evidence that suggests moving in a positive direction is the kind of [ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and other companies like that , where it ’ s not about pay but really about the way in which their health and safety is being protected .
I think it has the potential to be a radicalizing moment for workers in those industries , which could lead to much greater solidarity and to building toward a different relationship with employers .
That may be the path , and it will also be up against , as it was in the nineteen-thirties—and this is one of the remarkable things about what happened in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ extra strength of employers to just try to hire other people if you don ’ t want to do the work .
That ’ s the kind of battle we ’ re going to see for the next several years .
An element in all of this that I think is definitely pretty important to see is that the Republican Party of World War Two did not look like Donald Trump , and the media did not look like Fox News .
If you do the thought experiment of what that might have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , it ’ s pretty sobering .
We saw an economic calamity , probably not to this scale , a decade ago , which was pre-Trump but with a similar news environment and less solidarity , and there weren ’ t a ton of gains for the average people who came out of it .
I was actually going to raise 2008 to make that point , and also another one .
The day of Barack Obama ’ s Inauguration , no one was predicting that probably the most consequential thing coming out @ @ @ @ @ @ @ virulent rise of white ethno-nationalistic authoritarianism .

The coronavirus pandemic has crashed the economy, putting more than twenty million people out of work during the month of April alone, and forcing millions more to do their jobs in dangerous conditions. The crisis has also added to the strain on organized labor, which has seen its bargaining power shrink in recent years. Meanwhile, President Trump is once again aiming his campaign at the Midwestern swing states that he won over Hillary Clinton in 2016, and making a pitch to union voters that his record on trade and China is tougher than that of his Democratic opponent, Vice-President Joe Biden.
To talk about the state of organized labor and what the pandemic means for the future of American workers, I spoke by phone with Michael Podhorzer, the former political director of the A.F.L.-C.I.O., who now serves as a senior adviser to the union’s president, Richard Trumka. In our conversation, which has been edited for length and clarity, we also discussed how calamities in American history have opened up space for both workers’ rights and political demagoguery, what Democrats need to do to motivate non-voters, and the role of college education in America’s polarized politics.
What issues regarding American workers are at the front of your mind right now?
We are in a moment of extreme crisis if you’re a working person, and union members are among the front-line workers, or essential workers—people who are keeping our grocery stores in stock and people who do public transit. Every day, we hear stories about the people who have passed—union members who have been carrying on that fight.
The sectors that have been deemed essential are on the front line of keeping America moving right now. We are very disturbed, and we’re in a constant struggle to make sure that enough is being done to keep those workers safe and that they’re getting enough equipment. That’s a big part of my day.
Also, for working people, whether they’re union members or not, the way in which the CARES Act and the Trump Administration decided to deal with this betrays the sort of shortsightedness that Trump has been rightly blamed for in terms of the spread of the virus. CARES basically acts as if this is a short-term problem—that you write some checks to people and put them on unemployment and everything will be better soon. But we’re looking at a nation and an economy that’s going to be different. We’re not going back to the normal of February or January. We’re evolving into a new economy, and we’re not preparing for it. That is leaving tens of millions of workers in a very bad position.
What would preparing for it look like?
First of all, understanding that the job loss is not short-term, and that there are a couple of components to the job loss. The immediate job loss is because things are shut down, but the long-term job loss is going to be because there’s less aggregate demand in the economy. While we all want the economy to rebound, it won’t if working people and the middle class don’t have jobs and the resources to create economic activity.
You look at most of the countries in Western Europe, which is rarely done in media coverage, and they’re taking a completely different approach. They’re providing working people with payroll support. Instead of forcing people to lose a sense of identity and purpose and making them unemployed, they are preserving their dignity. Instead of the way we do it here, where we force someone out of their job and tell them to go into this Byzantine, archaic, draconian, punitive unemployment system, and write checks to businesses to help tide them over, you make the aid go to businesses to keep the people employed or we’re not giving you the check. That’s just something we’re not doing in the United States. That would lead to a much more stable future here.
You may think that you’re going back to your job the way it was, but it’s not going to be that way, because even the C.B.O. is estimating that unemployment will still be ten per cent next year. Whenever unemployment is that high, it means that your wages are going to go down. If you were working in McDonald’s, then, if you get your job back at McDonald’s, it’s not going to be for what you were getting before. They’re going to make less.
Your job is partially about thinking through the political consequences of all of this. What are your overarching thoughts right now on what those are likely to be?
I think that the political impact is very hard to understand at this point, because we’re only at the beginning. I’ve spent a lot of time in a lot of conversations with people about this, but I’m humbled by looking back at similar moments, like the first months and year after the stock-market crash that set off the Great Depression. If you go back and read the headlines, no one had any clue what was actually going to come in the nineteen-thirties. When you disrupt society the way this is going to disrupt society, you create new political alliances and realignments that are very difficult for mere mortals to see coming.
After the Great Depression, which was obviously an incredible calamity for workers, and then, following that, the Second World War, which was a calamity for a lot of people, we saw an era with some real gains for the labor movement. How can you repeat that?
I think that, so far, the piece of evidence that suggests moving in a positive direction is the kind of [organizing] activity going on at Amazon and other companies like that, where it’s not about pay but really about the way in which their health and safety is being protected. I think it has the potential to be a radicalizing moment for workers in those industries, which could lead to much greater solidarity and to building toward a different relationship with employers.
That may be the path, and it will also be up against, as it was in the nineteen-thirties—and this is one of the remarkable things about what happened in the nineteen-thirties—really high unemployment, and that extra strength of employers to just try to hire other people if you don’t want to do the work. That’s the kind of battle we’re going to see for the next several years.
An element in all of this that I think is definitely pretty important to see is that the Republican Party of World War Two did not look like Donald Trump, and the media did not look like Fox News. If you do the thought experiment of what that might have done to social solidarity in that moment, it’s pretty sobering.
We saw an economic calamity, probably not to this scale, a decade ago, which was pre-Trump but with a similar news environment and less solidarity, and there weren’t a ton of gains for the average people who came out of it.
I was actually going to raise 2008 to make that point, and also another one. The day of Barack Obama’s Inauguration, no one was predicting that probably the most consequential thing coming out of the worldwide crash would be a virulent rise of white ethno-nationalistic authoritarianism.


newyorker--2020-05-15--“The Rime of the Ancient Mariner”: The Epic Poem You Need for Quarantine

The British writer Philip Hoare , who as @ philipwhale chronicles his predawn swims in Southampton water year-round on Twitter—and makes his followers in the States shiver and feel like laggards , even if they get up at 6 A.M.—has done it again .
In collaboration with Angela Cockayne , an artist on the faculty of Bath Spa University , and with the backing of the Arts Institute of the University of Plymouth , he has assembled a company of actors , singers , writers , scientists , naturalists , and one polar guide for an online reading of Samuel @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the Ancient Mariner.
” Following the pattern of the same team ’ s Big Read of Melville ’ s “ Moby-Dick , ” in 2012 , the Ancient Mariner Big Read pairs each participant ’ s recording with an art work and releases the readings one at a time , building up the poem at the rate of about sixteen lines a day .
It began on April 18th , with church bells and a surging crowd , stilled by the seductive voice of Jeremy Irons : “ There was a ship , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with skinny hand and glittering eye as he waylays the wedding guest .
As you may remember from the Norton Anthology , Volume II , which has been sitting on the shelf since Survey of English Literature , Romanticism to Modernism , sophomore year in college , Coleridge started out as a wanderer in the Lake District with his pals William and Dorothy Wordsworth and ended up a derelict poet and drug addict .
Many of the visions in “ Kubla Khan ” and “ The Rime of the Ancient Mariner ” were @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , ” written in 1797-98 , is so harrowing and prescient that one might suspect the team behind the Big Read of choosing it specifically for the captive audience of the 2020 pandemic .
But Hoare , speaking by phone last week , said that the reading was five years in the planning and three in the execution .
After “ Moby-Dick , ” he and Cockayne considered for their next act Defoe ’ s “ Robinson Crusoe , ” but settled on the “ Rime , ” he said , “ because @ @ @ @ @ @ @ literature—people have a familiarity with it which they don ’ t realize they have.
” He added , “ We had no idea we would launch just as the lockdown came into force , as everyone was suffering isolation.
” Hoare , whose books include “ The Whale ” and “ The Sea Inside ” ( about his swimming habit ) , as well as a biography of Noël Coward , clearly enjoys wrangling talent .
He described sitting at the feet of Jeremy Irons while recording at the Bath Priory hotel .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the Scottish Highlands— “ Water , water , everywhere , / And all the boards did shrink ; / Water , water , everywhere , / Nor any drop to drink.
” She helped put Hoare in touch with Willem Dafoe ( Reading No .
5 ) , who Hoare knew had read the “ Ancient Mariner ” in preparation for his role in the bleak black-and-white film “ The Lighthouse , ” of 2019 .
The actor ’ s voice , crisp and distinctive , is perfect for the cold line @ @ @ @ @ @ @ pronounced American accent jumps out at Reading No .
9 as Iggy Pop , recorded in Miami , gives an anguished , over-the-top rendition of “ what evil looks had I / from old and young.
” At No .
16 , Alan Cumming lends his Scottish burr and creepy vibe to “ dry as dust.
” The soundscape behind the voices includes all kinds of effects : bells , bubbles , footsteps ( you ’ d swear it was Ahab ’ s wooden leg ) , howling winds , roaring waves , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ songs .
A clock ticking sets the stage for the surprising , piercingly high voice of Hilary Mantel ( No .
6 ) , recorded in the echoey church of Ottery St. Mary , in Devon , where Coleridge ’ s father was the vicar .
There , Hoare met Samuel Coleridge himself , the great-great-great-great-great-nephew of the poet , who lives next door in the family manor .
Samuel John Taylor Coleridge was the first descendant in more than two hundred years to be named after his uncle the poet , whose @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with the family for generations .
The latter-day Coleridge also contributed to the Big Read , recording in Ottery St. Mary , the church where his ancestor was baptized .
Incidentally , the soundman in Devon was a young fellow named Ed Shakspeare , a descendant of William who looks like him—if you shaved thirty years off the best-known image of the playwright ( that portrait ) and gave him a tangle of black hair and a puckish smile .
Folded into each day ’ s reading is a commentary providing biographical notes @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the beauty of the poem influenced Mary Shelley , Herman Melville , and Edgar Allan Poe ) ; remarks by the marine biologist John Spicer on climate change and the Cambridge-based nature writer Robert Macfarlane on melting polar ice ; and a strange little note by Tim Dee , the United Kingdom ’ s preëminent writer on birds , revealing that Coleridge had never been to sea when he wrote the “ Rime , ” much less seen an albatross , with its archangel wings , but he had been impressed by the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ duck ” ( No .
7 ) .
There are also reflections by the readers themselves .
Marianne Faithfull first read the “ Rime ” as a fourteen-year-old girl at her convent school , and her account precedes her reading ( No .
15 ) — “ I used that as a sort of tree limb , ” Hoare said .
He recorded Faithfull—beloved of flower children , onetime lover of Mick Jagger—in London , and noted her “ sea-salt soft-creature eyes ” and the tattoo “ of a bluebird or a swallow @ @ @ @ @ @ @ voice , now low and raspy , captures the narrator as sole survivor : “ Alone , alone , all , all alone , / Alone on a wide wide sea !
” The poem in its entirety will go live on May 28th , “ a mosaic , a phantasmagoria of voices , ” Hoare said , in which “ The Rime of the Ancient Mariner ” will “ suddenly assume the shape you ’ ve been wanting all along.
” The Big Read will have lasted forty days , the traditional @ @ @ @ @ @ @ then we ’ ll be allowed to go to weddings again .

The “Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” written in 1797-98, is harrowing and prescient, and suits the captive audience of the 2020 pandemic. Art work by Gustave Doré / Alamy
The British writer Philip Hoare, who as @philipwhale chronicles his predawn swims in Southampton Water year-round on Twitter—and makes his followers in the States shiver and feel like laggards, even if they get up at 6 A.M.—has done it again. In collaboration with Angela Cockayne, an artist on the faculty of Bath Spa University, and with the backing of the Arts Institute of the University of Plymouth, he has assembled a company of actors, singers, writers, scientists, naturalists, and one polar guide for an online reading of Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s “Rime of the Ancient Mariner.” Following the pattern of the same team’s Big Read of Melville’s “Moby-Dick,” in 2012, the Ancient Mariner Big Read pairs each participant’s recording with an art work and releases the readings one at a time, building up the poem at the rate of about sixteen lines a day. It began on April 18th, with church bells and a surging crowd, stilled by the seductive voice of Jeremy Irons: “There was a ship,” he rumbles, conjuring the graybeard with skinny hand and glittering eye as he waylays the wedding guest.
As you may remember from the Norton Anthology, Volume II, which has been sitting on the shelf since Survey of English Literature, Romanticism to Modernism, sophomore year in college, Coleridge started out as a wanderer in the Lake District with his pals William and Dorothy Wordsworth and ended up a derelict poet and drug addict. Many of the visions in “Kubla Khan” and “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” were fed by opium. The “Rime,” written in 1797-98, is so harrowing and prescient that one might suspect the team behind the Big Read of choosing it specifically for the captive audience of the 2020 pandemic. But Hoare, speaking by phone last week, said that the reading was five years in the planning and three in the execution. After “Moby-Dick,” he and Cockayne considered for their next act Defoe’s “Robinson Crusoe,” but settled on the “Rime,” he said, “because it is totemic as a work of literature—people have a familiarity with it which they don’t realize they have.” He added, “We had no idea we would launch just as the lockdown came into force, as everyone was suffering isolation.”
Hoare, whose books include “The Whale” and “The Sea Inside” (about his swimming habit), as well as a biography of Noël Coward, clearly enjoys wrangling talent. He described sitting at the feet of Jeremy Irons while recording at the Bath Priory hotel. Tilda Swinton recorded Reading No. 8 in the Scottish Highlands—“Water, water, everywhere, / And all the boards did shrink; / Water, water, everywhere, / Nor any drop to drink.” She helped put Hoare in touch with Willem Dafoe (Reading No. 5), who Hoare knew had read the “Ancient Mariner” in preparation for his role in the bleak black-and-white film “The Lighthouse,” of 2019. The actor’s voice, crisp and distinctive, is perfect for the cold line “I shot the albatross.” A pronounced American accent jumps out at Reading No. 9 as Iggy Pop, recorded in Miami, gives an anguished, over-the-top rendition of “what evil looks had I / from old and young.” At No. 16, Alan Cumming lends his Scottish burr and creepy vibe to “dry as dust.”
The soundscape behind the voices includes all kinds of effects: bells, bubbles, footsteps (you’d swear it was Ahab’s wooden leg), howling winds, roaring waves, cracking ice, bird calls, whale songs. A clock ticking sets the stage for the surprising, piercingly high voice of Hilary Mantel (No. 6), recorded in the echoey church of Ottery St. Mary, in Devon, where Coleridge’s father was the vicar. There, Hoare met Samuel Coleridge himself, the great-great-great-great-great-nephew of the poet, whose brother lives next door in the family manor. Samuel John Taylor Coleridge was the first descendant in more than two hundred years to be named after his uncle the poet, whose drug habit put him in bad odor with the family for generations. The latter-day Coleridge also contributed to the Big Read, recording in Ottery St. Mary, the church where his ancestor was baptized. Incidentally, the soundman in Devon was a young fellow named Ed Shakspeare, a descendant of William who looks like him—if you shaved thirty years off the best-known image of the playwright (that portrait) and gave him a tangle of black hair and a puckish smile.
Folded into each day’s reading is a commentary providing biographical notes or literary references (the horror and the beauty of the poem influenced Mary Shelley, Herman Melville, and Edgar Allan Poe); remarks by the marine biologist John Spicer on climate change and the Cambridge-based nature writer Robert Macfarlane on melting polar ice; and a strange little note by Tim Dee, the United Kingdom’s preëminent writer on birds, revealing that Coleridge had never been to sea when he wrote the “Rime,” much less seen an albatross, with its archangel wings, but he had been impressed by the sight of “a single solitary wild duck” (No. 7). There are also reflections by the readers themselves. Marianne Faithfull first read the “Rime” as a fourteen-year-old girl at her convent school, and her account precedes her reading (No. 15)—“I used that as a sort of tree limb,” Hoare said. He recorded Faithfull—beloved of flower children, onetime lover of Mick Jagger—in London, and noted her “sea-salt soft-creature eyes” and the tattoo “of a bluebird or a swallow” on her left hand. Her voice, now low and raspy, captures the narrator as sole survivor: “Alone, alone, all, all alone, / Alone on a wide wide sea!”
The poem in its entirety will go live on May 28th, “a mosaic, a phantasmagoria of voices,” Hoare said, in which “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” will “suddenly assume the shape you’ve been wanting all along.” The Big Read will have lasted forty days, the traditional length of a quarantine. Perhaps by then we’ll be allowed to go to weddings again.