newyorker--2020-04-28--How the Coronavirus Pandemic Has Shattered the Myth of College in America

The promise of college in America is the promise of a clear path to the future , of a reward for all the sleep deprivation and soul-deadening competition of high school , and , most of all , of instant adulthood .
This is a stunningly resilient myth .
It survived the financial crisis of 2007-08 .
It persisted even as more and more young people moved home after graduation and never left , because they couldn ’ t afford to .
It has continued to beckon teen-agers even as student debt came to dominate the lives of their older @ @ @ @ @ @ @ more people have competed for spots in colleges and universities , waiting for letters that promised a steady route : arrival at a Disney-Gothic castle ; eight semesters , one of them abroad ; two or three summer internships ; a festive launch of a lucrative , or at least secure , career .
They waited , too , for the elaborate succession of celebratory events that precedes college : senior prank , senior skip day , prom , yearbook , graduation , and more .
As of April , 2020 , none @ @ @ @ @ @ @ celebrations ; not , for many , the college ; and , most important , not the adulthood—at least not as they imagined it .
As a professor , I see my students on Zoom now , in class or during what now passes for office hours .
They are usually sitting on their beds , in their childhood bedrooms or in their dorm rooms on mostly deserted campuses .
I know why some of them couldn ’ t go home : a parent has had a transplant ; a sibling has cystic @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for coming out as gay .
I know some of their worries : a student has been sick with COVID-19 ; another student was living off campus and working full time but has now been laid off ; a student stayed at the college while two family members were ill ; most summer internships and study programs have been cancelled ( and some universities are talking about an online-only fall semester ) .
As a parent , I am sharing a house with one college student and one rising freshman , neither of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ this spring .
As a journalist , in recent weeks I have talked to more than a dozen young people whose future and present have been swallowed up in the fog of the pandemic .
Saminah Haddad , a seventeen-year-old senior at Long Beach Polytechnic High School , wasn ’ t expecting her college offers until later in the spring : she runs track , and recruiters look at the spring season , she told me over Zoom .
This year , there will be no spring season , which for Haddad means @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Long Beach City College , which is free for state residents .
She also lost her job at an amusement park .
All of the senior-year milestones that Haddad had been looking forward to have been cancelled : prom , graduation , and an event called the “ Pursuit of Excellence Awards , ” where she would have been recognized for perfect attendance .
She doesn ’ t yet know if she ’ ll still be working this summer for her father , who was about to open a juice bar in Brooklyn @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s school is offering some online instruction , but in her case the course load has dropped to just two classes : A.P .
Literature , which meets virtually , and a government class , which consists of written assignments that she receives by e-mail .
Her other classes , which were electives , “ aren ’ t really doing anything , ” she said .
Haddad is planning to take her A.P .
exam , though she finds it hard to imagine what the forty-five-minute , cell-phone-friendly version of the test will @ @ @ @ @ @ @ prospective colleges will view it , either .
“ Online classes are boring , ” she said .
The descriptor she used perhaps most often in our conversation , in fact , was “ boring.
” Life has been drained of content , and the plot is lost .
She texts with friends .
She argues with her mom and stepdad a lot .
“ It ’ s bringing us closer together , ” she half joked .
“ But it ’ s O.K.
” E. , an eighteen-year-old Barnard freshman , is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ who is nonbinary and isn ’ t out to their parents , was adopted at age ten , along with their two siblings ; their biological mother had abandoned them , and their biological father was struggling with addiction .
At first , Barnard was everything E. needed : a beautiful campus , a sense of community , counselling services , and , through the office of disability services , the academic accommodations that E. needed .
E. went home for winter break but decided to come back early because , they told @ @ @ @ @ @ @ being emotionally abusive .
A complicated bureaucratic procedure awaits any Barnard student who attempts to return to their dorm when school is out of session , so E. stayed with an alumna in Brooklyn until the spring semester began .
In March , when Columbia , which is affiliated with and adjacent to Barnard , abruptly closed its campus after identifying a member of the community who had been exposed to the coronavirus , E. didn ’ t ask to stay on campus and never considered going to their parents ’ home .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ through loans—E.
’ s parents have no real relationship , financial or otherwise , with the school—e-mail messages about the end of in-person classes and the closure of campus went to all students ’ parents .
“ We are trying to get away from our parents , but , unfortunately , the college system doesn ’ t really allow dependency overrides , ” E. told me .
“ If your parents make a hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year but they are not willing to help you pay for college , there @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to that.
” E. ’ s parents wanted to know why E. wasn ’ t coming home , and E. couldn ’ t really explain to them that college was supposed to be E. ’ s way to escape , once and for all , their parents ’ homophobic comments and the constant blare of Fox News .
“ I ’ d been trying to go to a college far enough away that they wouldn ’ t visit me , ” E. said .
E. has a rent-free place to stay , with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ summer .
E. is applying for internships and trying to raise money to rent their own apartment ; another summer option they considered was to stay with their biological father , who , E. said , is now clean and sober .
Concentrating on coursework , meanwhile , is difficult .
All of E. ’ s four classes are now on Zoom , with additional assignments and recorded lectures .
E. hasn ’ t been able to finish many assignments .
“ I ’ m really trying to stay afloat this semester , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ their classmates .
“ I know a lot of people are having trouble focussing.
” E. finally scheduled a Zoom meeting with disability services , more than a month after in-person classes ended and less than a month before the end of the semester .
Many colleges have set up a petitioning process to allow certain students to remain on campus during the shutdown : international students , students who have health conditions or whose family members have health conditions that preclude their travelling home , and students whose home situations are precarious @ @ @ @ @ @ @ granted to students who ask to stay because they have a job near campus .
Cassidy Shannon , a nineteen-year-old sophomore at Emmanuel College in Boston , had a job at a burger joint that synced well with her class schedule .
Now she is at her mother ’ s house in Westborough , Massachusetts , working as a server at a retirement home .
“ This retirement home is really fancy , ” she explained to me over Zoom .
Residents used to take their meals in a dining hall , served @ @ @ @ @ @ @ took hold , the old staff “ had to stop because their parents didn ’ t want them working there , ” Shannon said .
Now she is one of just three or four young people who deliver meals to the residents ’ rooms .
Shannon ’ s mother , a preschool teacher , is also still working— providing child-care services to first responders—and her seventeen-year-old sister , a high-school junior , has kept her job at Chick-fil-A .

The promise of college in America is the promise of a clear path to the future, of a reward for all the sleep deprivation and soul-deadening competition of high school, and, most of all, of instant adulthood. This is a stunningly resilient myth. It survived the financial crisis of 2007-08. It persisted even as more and more young people moved home after graduation and never left, because they couldn’t afford to. It has continued to beckon teen-agers even as student debt came to dominate the lives of their older siblings and parents. Every year, more people have competed for spots in colleges and universities, waiting for letters that promised a steady route: arrival at a Disney-Gothic castle; eight semesters, one of them abroad; two or three summer internships; a festive launch of a lucrative, or at least secure, career. They waited, too, for the elaborate succession of celebratory events that precedes college: senior prank, senior skip day, prom, yearbook, graduation, and more. As of April, 2020, none of that is happening: not the celebrations; not, for many, the college; and, most important, not the adulthood—at least not as they imagined it.
As a professor, I see my students on Zoom now, in class or during what now passes for office hours. They are usually sitting on their beds, in their childhood bedrooms or in their dorm rooms on mostly deserted campuses. I know why some of them couldn’t go home: a parent has had a transplant; a sibling has cystic fibrosis; the family kicked them out for coming out as gay. I know some of their worries: a student has been sick with COVID-19; another student was living off campus and working full time but has now been laid off; a student stayed at the college while two family members were ill; most summer internships and study programs have been cancelled (and some universities are talking about an online-only fall semester). As a parent, I am sharing a house with one college student and one rising freshman, neither of whom planned to be living with me this spring. As a journalist, in recent weeks I have talked to more than a dozen young people whose future and present have been swallowed up in the fog of the pandemic.
Saminah Haddad, a seventeen-year-old senior at Long Beach Polytechnic High School, wasn’t expecting her college offers until later in the spring: she runs track, and recruiters look at the spring season, she told me over Zoom. This year, there will be no spring season, which for Haddad means no four-year college. She is considering Long Beach City College, which is free for state residents. She also lost her job at an amusement park. All of the senior-year milestones that Haddad had been looking forward to have been cancelled: prom, graduation, and an event called the “Pursuit of Excellence Awards,” where she would have been recognized for perfect attendance. She doesn’t yet know if she’ll still be working this summer for her father, who was about to open a juice bar in Brooklyn.
In the meantime, Haddad’s school is offering some online instruction, but in her case the course load has dropped to just two classes: A.P. Literature, which meets virtually, and a government class, which consists of written assignments that she receives by e-mail. Her other classes, which were electives, “aren’t really doing anything,” she said. Haddad is planning to take her A.P. exam, though she finds it hard to imagine what the forty-five-minute, cell-phone-friendly version of the test will be like. No one knows how prospective colleges will view it, either.
“Online classes are boring,” she said. The descriptor she used perhaps most often in our conversation, in fact, was “boring.” Life has been drained of content, and the plot is lost. She texts with friends. She argues with her mom and stepdad a lot. “It’s bringing us closer together,” she half joked. “But it’s O.K.”
E., an eighteen-year-old Barnard freshman, is scared, not bored. E., who is nonbinary and isn’t out to their parents, was adopted at age ten, along with their two siblings; their biological mother had abandoned them, and their biological father was struggling with addiction. At first, Barnard was everything E. needed: a beautiful campus, a sense of community, counselling services, and, through the office of disability services, the academic accommodations that E. needed.
E. went home for winter break but decided to come back early because, they told me over Zoom, their parents were being emotionally abusive. A complicated bureaucratic procedure awaits any Barnard student who attempts to return to their dorm when school is out of session, so E. stayed with an alumna in Brooklyn until the spring semester began. In March, when Columbia, which is affiliated with and adjacent to Barnard, abruptly closed its campus after identifying a member of the community who had been exposed to the coronavirus, E. didn’t ask to stay on campus and never considered going to their parents’ home. Even though E. is financing their education through loans—E.’s parents have no real relationship, financial or otherwise, with the school—e-mail messages about the end of in-person classes and the closure of campus went to all students’ parents. “We are trying to get away from our parents, but, unfortunately, the college system doesn’t really allow dependency overrides,” E. told me. “If your parents make a hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year but they are not willing to help you pay for college, there isn’t a lot of sensitivity to that.” E.’s parents wanted to know why E. wasn’t coming home, and E. couldn’t really explain to them that college was supposed to be E.’s way to escape, once and for all, their parents’ homophobic comments and the constant blare of Fox News. “I’d been trying to go to a college far enough away that they wouldn’t visit me,” E. said.
E. has a rent-free place to stay, with a lesbian activist in Harlem, until summer. E. is applying for internships and trying to raise money to rent their own apartment; another summer option they considered was to stay with their biological father, who, E. said, is now clean and sober. Concentrating on coursework, meanwhile, is difficult. All of E.’s four classes are now on Zoom, with additional assignments and recorded lectures. E. hasn’t been able to finish many assignments. “I’m really trying to stay afloat this semester,” E. said, and so are their classmates. “I know a lot of people are having trouble focussing.” E. finally scheduled a Zoom meeting with disability services, more than a month after in-person classes ended and less than a month before the end of the semester.
Many colleges have set up a petitioning process to allow certain students to remain on campus during the shutdown: international students, students who have health conditions or whose family members have health conditions that preclude their travelling home, and students whose home situations are precarious or unsafe. Exemptions are not usually granted to students who ask to stay because they have a job near campus. Cassidy Shannon, a nineteen-year-old sophomore at Emmanuel College in Boston, had a job at a burger joint that synced well with her class schedule. Now she is at her mother’s house in Westborough, Massachusetts, working as a server at a retirement home. “This retirement home is really fancy,” she explained to me over Zoom. Residents used to take their meals in a dining hall, served by high-school students; once the pandemic took hold, the old staff “had to stop because their parents didn’t want them working there,” Shannon said. Now she is one of just three or four young people who deliver meals to the residents’ rooms. Shannon’s mother, a preschool teacher, is also still working— providing child-care services to first responders—and her seventeen-year-old sister, a high-school junior, has kept her job at Chick-fil-A.
Two of Shannon’s classes are now given as pre-recorded lectures, available online, but the other two meet by Zoom at six in the evening, which means that she can’t take as many shifts at the retirement home as she needs to. She is financing her education through student loans: she borrowed twenty-two thousand dollars for her first year and thirteen thousand dollars for her second, when her financial assistance was increased as a reward for good grades. “I’m such an in-person learner,” she said. “I’m paying all this money for something that isn’t the same.”
It’s unclear what Shannon, other students, and their parents are actually paying for. Put another way, what exactly is a four-year college? “It’s a hedge fund that teaches classes as a tax dodge,” one Twitter user posted, after Harvard announced, in mid-April, that it was cutting salaries and other expenses, despite its endowment, which reached more than forty billion dollars in 2019. “And they’re barely even doing the ‘teaches classes’ part anymore now.”
Of course, most smaller colleges have modest endowments, or barely any endowments at all, and depend on income from tuition and student fees to keep going from year to year. Room and board fees make up a large and growing portion of college investments and income. Emmanuel College, where Shannon studies, recently unveiled an eighteen-story residence hall that cost a hundred and forty million dollars to build, or roughly the equivalent of the college’s entire endowment. Most colleges, including those that used to be known as commuter schools, such as Manhattan School of Music, in New York City, now require freshmen and, often, sophomores to live on campus, even if their families live nearby. Colleges might be called landlords of sorts, except that dormitory tenants don’t have leases and can be evicted at will. It might be more accurate to say that colleges are in the hospitality and catering business, except that a hotel that kicked you out of your room or a restaurant that cancelled your reservation would be expected to refund the entirety of your payment. Some colleges have refunded the room and board fees for the unused portion of the semester, others are refunding a portion of that portion, and still others have not yet committed to refunding any money.
Most faculty, students, and administrators don’t actually think of colleges as hedge funds or hoteliers; they think, rather, that colleges charge students for teaching them. Before the coronavirus pandemic, professors would grouse that their students acted like customers who expected faculty to provide services. But it’s impossible to argue that online instruction, even when exceptionally well-executed, delivers the same quality of education as in-person teaching. I’ve been lucky: all of my students have high-speed Internet access, I have relatively small classes, and my students had a chance to get to know one another during the first six weeks of the semester. (Some of my friends who teach on different timetables met their students for the first time online.) I have done my best to compensate for what students have lost: learning by discussion, by engaging with one another and with me in ways that simply cannot be replicated online. Still, they are certainly not learning as much as they would be in person.
Students at some universities have started organizing to demand tuition refunds, and some have sued, arguing that online classes aren’t what they paid for. In an extraordinary step, Southern New Hampshire University has announced full-tuition scholarships for incoming freshmen—but not for returning students—and a sixty-one per cent tuition cut starting in 2021. Most colleges will not take such drastic steps, and many simply cannot afford to without overhauling their entire model. With worries about fall enrollment and a growing understanding that the fall semester, if it happens at all, will likely be taught at least partly online, colleges will have to argue that what they are delivering onscreen is worth as much as what students would have received in the classroom. This, in turn, may force a conversation about what the colleges are actually selling. Although the service they provide is education, the product for which they charge is the college degree—the piece of paper that promises a student will earn eighty-four per cent more in their lifetime than if they had only a high-school diploma. This and similar statistics are what allow so many college students to think of their loans not as astronomical debts but as investments in their future. Now that future is changing in ways none of us can really apprehend.
Those who are graduating this year face the worst job market in nearly a century and, by the time they graduate, possibly the worst job market in recorded history. Emilia Decaudin, a twenty-one-year-old senior at CUNY’s Macaulay Honors College and the youngest-ever member of the Democratic State Committee of New York, told me that she had planned to start looking for work at a nonprofit this month. But nonprofits aren’t hiring, she said over Zoom, “and even if one was, what’s the point of finding a job that’s likely not to exist by summer?”
Cameron Wright, a twenty-two-year-old senior at Yale, is the rare college student whose employment plans appear to be on track. He is scheduled to begin working as a legal researcher at a tech company in New York this summer; he was planning to spend a year there before going to law school. But the prospect of actually moving to New York has gone from daunting to incomprehensible. For now, Wright is still in New Haven, one of eleven people who remain in his dorm, out of the usual three hundred. He rarely catches sight of any of the others. Twice a day he goes to the single dining hall that remains open on campus, but only to pick up grab-and-go meals. Wright’s home is in rural Kentucky, with his mother, who has a history of pulmonary illness. “I just couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to my mother,” he told me. For a while, he considered renting a car and driving to Kentucky, but he couldn’t find a place where he could self-quarantine before seeing his mother.
“I’m thinking a lot about the unreliability of things,” Wright told me on the phone the first time we spoke. His father, a state-government employee, died when Wright was ten. After his death, Wright’s mother went back to work as a substitute teacher. “I didn’t necessarily fit in at home in Kentucky,” Wright said in an e-mail, “and I did not want to follow the traditional path of graduating high school, attending an in-state public school, and then moving back home.” A combination of his mother’s support, a few good teachers, and, as Wright put it, “the chance nature of college admissions” got him to Yale with a full-tuition financial-aid package. A job as a residential adviser to freshmen paid for his room and board this year, and, in the second half of March and early April, Wright was spending much of his time trying to clarify Yale’s temporary grading policies for his advisees. Some colleges have eliminated letter grades entirely this spring, switching all courses to a pass-fail system. Others have given students the choice between letter grades and pass-fail grades; meanwhile, some graduate schools, like Harvard Medical School, were warning prospective applicants that pass-fail grades would be viewed neutrally only from colleges that instituted a temporary universal pass-fail system. (Yale made pass-fail optional at first, and Wright and other students lobbied successfully to make the policy universal.)


newyorker--2020-04-28--Scenes from a Closed Atlanta, as Georgia Reopens

In the sixties , Atlanta was dubbed “ the city too busy to hate , ” by a mayor hoping to distinguish it , positively , from the rest of Georgia .
A friend of mine recently wondered whether Georgia ’ s Republican governor , Brian Kemp , is now “ too busy to wait.
” A good question , but a bad joke .
Atlanta , where I live , is home to the Centers for Disease Control and some of the top research universities in the United States ; its mayor , the Democrat Keisha Lance Bottoms , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ scientists and academics , near and far , since the COVID-19 pandemic began .
Meanwhile , Kemp was one of the last governors to issue a shelter-in-place order .
He finally did so on April 2nd , ten days after Bottoms had issued her own stay-at-home order for the city .
By early April , there was already a severe coronavirus outbreak in southwestern Georgia—a region one doctor living there characterized to me as “ a third world country ” —and cases were climbing in Atlanta and elsewhere .
The death toll in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Nonetheless , three weeks later , on April 24th , Kemp was the first governor to begin reopening his state for business .
Bottoms responded to this news in bewilderment .
“ As I look at the data , and as I talk with our public-health officials , ” she said , “ I don ’ t see that it ’ s based on anything that ’ s logical.
” The businesses Kemp had chosen were curious—they included tattoo parlors , barbershops , and bowling alleys—but the timing was the most inexplicable @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with a well-known Atlanta hairdresser who would not be reopening on April 24th and did not mince words about Kemp ’ s decision , calling it “ asinine.
” Even President Trump , who has tweeted that other governors should “ liberate ” their locked-down states , said Kemp ’ s decision was “ just too soon.
” Still , from late March until late April , Atlanta was a decidedly closed city .
Images of the city—sent to me in Oregon , which I happened to be visiting when everything changed—have felt @ @ @ @ @ @ @ planet .
A bizarro home .
There ’ s the emptiness of streets and public spaces , of course .
But also smaller things .
For instance , there ’ s a two-lane tunnel under a former rail yard near my home , in a downtown neighborhood , where graffiti artists are allowed to paint .
Some remarkable murals have been made in and around the tunnel through the years , and , as a backdrop , they ’ ve attracted aspiring rappers , models , and smartphone-wielding teens alike .
Now , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ an image of a frazzled-looking scientist with a microscope , under which is sprayed “ It ’ s a pandemic.
” On another wall : “ All My Homies Hate COVID-19 ” and “ Wash Your Damn Hands.
” Not far away , on the BeltLine , a former railway corridor that ’ s now a popular pedestrian and bicyclist thoroughfare , a different message has appeared : “ Wuhan Plague , ” under which , in Chinese characters , it says , “ China lies.
” Elsewhere in the city , a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ATL ” —which appears alongside praying hands—has been repurposed : “ Wash for ATL.
” It ’ s the same with the city ’ s rail line , museums , churches , malls , and tennis courts , as captured in the film above .
Some of this change isn ’ t so terrible : a nine-hole golf course in town—popular among folks , including me , who enjoy drinking beer and meandering in the grass more than playing golf—has instead become a place to fly kites and throw down a picnic blanket @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sing .
To them , at least , this is not the cruellest month .

In the sixties, Atlanta was dubbed “the city too busy to hate,” by a mayor hoping to distinguish it, positively, from the rest of Georgia. A friend of mine recently wondered whether Georgia’s Republican governor, Brian Kemp, is now “too busy to wait.” A good question, but a bad joke. Atlanta, where I live, is home to the Centers for Disease Control and some of the top research universities in the United States; its mayor, the Democrat Keisha Lance Bottoms, has embraced messages of caution coming from scientists and academics, near and far, since the COVID-19 pandemic began. Meanwhile, Kemp was one of the last governors to issue a shelter-in-place order. He finally did so on April 2nd, ten days after Bottoms had issued her own stay-at-home order for the city. By early April, there was already a severe coronavirus outbreak in southwestern Georgia—a region one doctor living there characterized to me as “a third world country”—and cases were climbing in Atlanta and elsewhere. The death toll in the state is now approaching a thousand.
Nonetheless, three weeks later, on April 24th, Kemp was the first governor to begin reopening his state for business. Bottoms responded to this news in bewilderment. “As I look at the data, and as I talk with our public-health officials,” she said, “I don’t see that it’s based on anything that’s logical.” The businesses Kemp had chosen were curious—they included tattoo parlors, barbershops, and bowling alleys—but the timing was the most inexplicable element of the plan. I spoke with a well-known Atlanta hairdresser who would not be reopening on April 24th and did not mince words about Kemp’s decision, calling it “asinine.” Even President Trump, who has tweeted that other governors should “liberate” their locked-down states, said Kemp’s decision was “just too soon.”
Still, from late March until late April, Atlanta was a decidedly closed city. Images of the city—sent to me in Oregon, which I happened to be visiting when everything changed—have felt like glimpses of a familiar but new planet. A bizarro home. There’s the emptiness of streets and public spaces, of course. But also smaller things. For instance, there’s a two-lane tunnel under a former rail yard near my home, in a downtown neighborhood, where graffiti artists are allowed to paint. Some remarkable murals have been made in and around the tunnel through the years, and, as a backdrop, they’ve attracted aspiring rappers, models, and smartphone-wielding teens alike. Now, along one wall, there’s an image of a frazzled-looking scientist with a microscope, under which is sprayed “It’s a pandemic.” On another wall: “All My Homies Hate COVID-19” and “Wash Your Damn Hands.” Not far away, on the BeltLine, a former railway corridor that’s now a popular pedestrian and bicyclist thoroughfare, a different message has appeared: “Wuhan Plague,” under which, in Chinese characters, it says, “China lies.” Elsewhere in the city, a locally cherished slogan, “Pray for ATL”—which appears alongside praying hands—has been repurposed: “Wash for ATL.”
It’s the same with the city’s rail line, museums, churches, malls, and tennis courts, as captured in the film above. Some of this change isn’t so terrible: a nine-hole golf course in town—popular among folks, including me, who enjoy drinking beer and meandering in the grass more than playing golf—has instead become a place to fly kites and throw down a picnic blanket. It’s quiet. Birds sing. To them, at least, this is not the cruellest month.


newyorker--2020-04-28--CNN to Show Phone Number of Poison-Control Hotline Whenever Trump Speaks

WASHINGTON ( The Borowitz Report ) —CNN announced on Tuesday that it will show the phone number of a national poison-control hotline whenever Donald Trump appears on the air .
Speaking on behalf of the network , Wolf Blitzer , the veteran anchor , said that CNN was adopting the new policy out of concern for “ the health and safety of our viewers.
” “ At CNN , we strive to keep our viewers informed .
But , in order to do that , we must first keep them alive , ” he said .
In order to implement @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the network ’ s chief medical correspondent , will monitor CNN ’ s programming on a twenty-four-hour basis for any signs of Trump .
“ The moment Donald Trump appears , Sanjay will flip a switch and the flashing poison-control number will appear onscreen , ” Blitzer said .
The phone number will disappear as soon as someone other than Trump , such as Anthony Fauci , begins to speak .
“ If Trump interrupts Dr. Fauci and starts talking again , Sanjay will punch the number back up , ” the host @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
CNN decided to institute the new measure after it became apparent that Trump had not followed through on his threat to stop appearing at coronavirus briefings .
“ Clearly , the danger has not passed , ” Blitzer said .

WASHINGTON (The Borowitz Report)—CNN announced on Tuesday that it will show the phone number of a national poison-control hotline whenever Donald Trump appears on the air.
Speaking on behalf of the network, Wolf Blitzer, the veteran anchor, said that CNN was adopting the new policy out of concern for “the health and safety of our viewers.”
“At CNN, we strive to keep our viewers informed. But, in order to do that, we must first keep them alive,” he said.
In order to implement the new policy, Sanjay Gupta, the network’s chief medical correspondent, will monitor CNN’s programming on a twenty-four-hour basis for any signs of Trump.
“The moment Donald Trump appears, Sanjay will flip a switch and the flashing poison-control number will appear onscreen,” Blitzer said.
The phone number will disappear as soon as someone other than Trump, such as Anthony Fauci, begins to speak.
“If Trump interrupts Dr. Fauci and starts talking again, Sanjay will punch the number back up,” the host of “The Situation Room" indicated.
CNN decided to institute the new measure after it became apparent that Trump had not followed through on his threat to stop appearing at coronavirus briefings. “Clearly, the danger has not passed,” Blitzer said.


newyorker--2020-04-28--Ohio Primary Election 2020: Live Results, Maps, and Analysis

© 2020 Condé Nast .
All rights reserved .
Use of this site constitutes acceptance of our User Agreement ( @ @ @ @ @ Policy and Cookie Statement ( updated 1/1/20 ) and Your California Privacy Rights .
Do @ @ @ @ @ may earn a portion of sales from products that are purchased through our site as @ @ @ @ @ with retailers .
The material on this site may not be reproduced , distributed , @ @ @ @ @ used , except with the prior written permission of Condé Nast .
Ad Choices

The state’s primaries are April 28th. Follow the latest election results ahead of the 2020 Presidential election.


newyorker--2020-04-29--Goings On About Home

Goings On About Home

On view at your left nightstand until you summon the will to clean it up , this rich multimedia work explores the detritus of quarantine through wry , revealing juxtapositions .
An empty beer bottle balances on stray puzzle pieces ; the crumpled wrappings of mini peanut-butter cups sit coyly atop an untouched copy of “ The Power Broker.
”  This piece exposes a dynamic tension between indulgence and improvement , inviting reflection on one ’ s own standards and the velocity at which they have slipped .
A companion piece , “ Bunch of Shit That Fell Off @ @ @ @ @ @ @ display only a few feet below .
A fearless pioneer of her instrument , your neighbor Beth has composed a challenging meditation on time and space .
The performance is site-specific , and hinges on the listener ’ s knowledge that your neighbor Beth lives in a small studio apartment .
Questions float up from the monotonous hum like dust motes in a sunbeam : What could she possibly still be vacuuming ?
Is this a prank ?
Is this a dream ?
The sound is literal in one sense—it is the sound @ @ @ @ @ @ @ also a metaphorical elegy .
By the final bars of “ Vacuuming for Two Full Hours , ” your neighbor Beth has lost most of an afternoon , and you have lost your entire mind .
In this startling contemporary ballet , a solitary orange cat starts to leap onto your lit stove , dramatically changing course with a tour en l ’ air when you yell at him .
A brief but electrifying program .
FOOD & DRINK Full-on Strega Nona Situation in Your Sad Little Kitchen Pasta reigns supreme at this @ @ @ @ @ @ @ expected not only to prepare her own Barilla tricolor rotini but also to wash the dishes afterward .
The ambience is one of quiet dread—go ahead and read the news on your phone while dining .
A half sleeve of Ritz crackers is an irresistible , if unambitious , appetizer , and the signature dessert ( an ice-cream sandwich consumed without pleasure while standing over the sink ) is not to be missed .
A plot is set in motion when a character makes a choice—but what happens when the character is you @ @ @ @ @ @ @ watch , and a pandemic has broken your brain ?
This postmodern montage of Netflix movie previews is unique upon every viewing , but manages to retain a defining core of hopelessness .
Rachel Weisz gives a standout performance as Somebody in Some Movie You Scrolled Over by Accident .
( Running time : infinite . )
You haven ’ t heard “ Both Sides Now ” till you ’ ve heard it blasted at night-club-dance-floor decibels through thin plaster walls , a fact upon which this classical vacuumist turned d.j .
has @ @ @ @ @ @ @ arcs toward a transcendent moment of blissful silence , until , noticing that the album has ended , D.J .
Your Neighbor Beth commands Alexa to play “ Blue.
” Like New York ’ s interactive-theatre phenomenon “ Sleep No More , ” this immersive piece breaks down the invisible barrier between actor and audience .
In a significant departure , the actors and audience members are separated by actual , physical barriers , so as not to spread a deadly disease .
A realistic domestic set is well stocked with props , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ you .
Will you bake a loaf of bread ?
Call an ex-boyfriend ?
Start a fight with a stranger on the Internet ?
If you ’ re like most of the participants who have contributed to this hit show ’ s extended run , you will fall asleep as the matinée begins and awaken , sweaty and confused , to find that it is dark out .
READINGS & TALKS “ Oh , God , Am I Talking to Myself ?
” : An Evening with You Oh , God , you @ @ @ @ @

ART
“Tableau on a Nightstand”
On view at your left nightstand until you summon the will to clean it up, this rich multimedia work explores the detritus of quarantine through wry, revealing juxtapositions. An empty beer bottle balances on stray puzzle pieces; the crumpled wrappings of mini peanut-butter cups sit coyly atop an untouched copy of “The Power Broker.” This piece exposes a dynamic tension between indulgence and improvement, inviting reflection on one’s own standards and the velocity at which they have slipped. A companion piece, “Bunch of Shit That Fell Off the Nightstand,” is on limited display only a few feet below.
CLASSICAL MUSIC
“Vacuuming for Two Full Hours”
A fearless pioneer of her instrument, your neighbor Beth has composed a challenging meditation on time and space. The performance is site-specific, and hinges on the listener’s knowledge that your neighbor Beth lives in a small studio apartment. Questions float up from the monotonous hum like dust motes in a sunbeam: What could she possibly still be vacuuming? Is this a prank? Is this a dream? The sound is literal in one sense—it is the sound of a vacuum cleaner—and yet it is also a metaphorical elegy. By the final bars of “Vacuuming for Two Full Hours,” your neighbor Beth has lost most of an afternoon, and you have lost your entire mind.
DANCE
“HEY! NO!”
In this startling contemporary ballet, a solitary orange cat starts to leap onto your lit stove, dramatically changing course with a tour en l’air when you yell at him. A brief but electrifying program.
FOOD & DRINK
Full-on Strega Nona Situation in Your Sad Little Kitchen
Pasta reigns supreme at this culinary pop-up, where the guest is expected not only to prepare her own Barilla tricolor rotini but also to wash the dishes afterward. The ambience is one of quiet dread—go ahead and read the news on your phone while dining. A half sleeve of Ritz crackers is an irresistible, if unambitious, appetizer, and the signature dessert (an ice-cream sandwich consumed without pleasure while standing over the sink) is not to be missed.
MOVIES
“Netflix Menu Screen”
A plot is set in motion when a character makes a choice—but what happens when the character is you, the choice is which film to watch, and a pandemic has broken your brain? This postmodern montage of Netflix movie previews is unique upon every viewing, but manages to retain a defining core of hopelessness. Rachel Weisz gives a standout performance as Somebody in Some Movie You Scrolled Over by Accident. (Running time: infinite.)
NIGHT LIFE
D.J. Your Neighbor Beth: “Joni Mitchell, But Loud”
You haven’t heard “Both Sides Now” till you’ve heard it blasted at night-club-dance-floor decibels through thin plaster walls, a fact upon which this classical vacuumist turned d.j. has built her unavoidable career. The set arcs toward a transcendent moment of blissful silence, until, noticing that the album has ended, D.J. Your Neighbor Beth commands Alexa to play “Blue.”
THE THEATRE
“Sleep Much More”
Like New York’s interactive-theatre phenomenon “Sleep No More,” this immersive piece breaks down the invisible barrier between actor and audience. In a significant departure, the actors and audience members are separated by actual, physical barriers, so as not to spread a deadly disease. A realistic domestic set is well stocked with props, and the plot is entirely up to you. Will you bake a loaf of bread? Call an ex-boyfriend? Start a fight with a stranger on the Internet? If you’re like most of the participants who have contributed to this hit show’s extended run, you will fall asleep as the matinée begins and awaken, sweaty and confused, to find that it is dark out.
READINGS & TALKS
“Oh, God, Am I Talking to Myself?”: An Evening with You
Oh, God, you are talking to yourself.


newyorker--2020-04-29--The Uncertain Life of New York City’s Immigrant Uber Drivers During the Pandemic

Anil Subba , a Nepalese immigrant in his forties , living in Jackson Heights , Queens , worked as a rideshare driver to support his family .
In early March , he picked up a visibly unwell passenger for Uber and drove him from Kennedy airport to Westchester County , a journey that took roughly an hour .
New York City had just reported its first case of the novel coronavirus , and , according to Subba ’ s cousin , Munindra Nembang , who also drove for Uber , the trip from the airport so unnerved Subba that he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ show symptoms of COVID-19 and was admitted to Elmhurst Hospital , a public facility in Queens that soon became known as “ the epicenter of the epicenter.
” He spent the last two days of his life on a ventilator .
When he died , after midnight on March 24th , he became one of thirteen patients in the hospital to succumb to their conditions that day , and the first of several dozen drivers in the city who have done so .
In some respects , Subba ’ s life was like @ @ @ @ @ @ @ York City , Uber ’ s largest domestic market .
According to a study conducted by two economists , James A. Parrott and Michael Reich , for the New School ’ s Center for New York City Affairs , more than nine out of ten of those drivers are immigrants .
Around ninety-seven per cent are male , and half are middle-aged .
Half have dependents , and seventy per cent are the main wage earners in their households .
The Independent Drivers Guild , which was formed in 2016 as an affiliate @ @ @ @ @ @ @ than two hundred thousand drivers in the tri-state area , including more than eighty thousand in New York City .
The majority of them have stopped working ; those who haven ’ t are seeing their expenses—insurance , gas , vehicle upkeep , and the cut that their company takes—outpace their earnings .
( The insurance and the upkeep continue to be expenses even for those who stop working . )
Shortly after Subba ’ s death , the guild released a statement blaming “ poor federal screening and quarantine procedures at the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ risk .
“ The government was telling returning travellers to go home and self-quarantine , but wasn ’ t providing a safe way to get them home , ” the statement reads .
“ Where were the quarantine shuttles with drivers in protective gear , like we saw transporting cruise ship passengers ?
” Four days after Subba ’ s death , I talked on the phone with an Uber driver named Johan Nijman , a soft-spoken native of Suriname who lives in St. Albans , Queens .
After arriving in New York @ @ @ @ @ @ @ enough money to buy a taxi medallion , and , in 2003 , he started his own company , Johan ’ s Limousine Service .
But , when the rideshare services started , his business fell off , and , in February , 2017 , he started driving for Uber himself .
Like other drivers , he has seen his earnings drop in the past few months ; by mid-March , he was pulling a tenth of his usual number of fares .
Nijman , who is sixty-four , lives alone—his wife , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in 2003 , and their four children are grown and live out of the house—and he occasionally hosts friends and family from Suriname .
At the end of March , a friend who had stayed with him returned home and , appearing ill , was quarantined .
Nijman informed Uber that he may have been exposed and that , although he had no symptoms , he was following the recommendations of the C.D.C .
and self-isolating .
He added that his age and the fact that he has diabetes left him particularly vulnerable @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sick pay .
Rideshare drivers don ’ t generally get sick pay , but , on March 7th , Uber announced that it would offer the equivalent of up to fourteen days ’ worth of pay to drivers who could show that they had been infected with the coronavirus .
However , because tests were in short supply , on March 15th , the company agreed to make payments to drivers who had a doctor ’ s note saying that they were sufficiently ill to quarantine .
( The company has since offered @ @ @ @ @ @ @ risk , too , but these payments are capped and do not cover a full fourteen days ’ worth of pay . )
But an Uber representative told Nijman , in an e-mail , that financial assistance is reserved “ for drivers and delivery people on our platform who are diagnosed with COVID-19 or have individually been asked to quarantine by a public health authority or licensed medical provider due to their risk of spreading COVID-19.
” Nijman told me , “ I will not be tested if I don ’ t have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to work , how do I know I ’ m not passing it on to my passengers ?
” Moira Muntz , a spokesperson for the Independent Drivers Guild , told me that Nijman ’ s case is not unusual .
“ Every day , we are battling with companies on language , ” she told me .
“ Which is so frustrating , because it seems like a word game on paper , but , for drivers , it ’ s their life and livelihoods.
” When contacted about Nijman ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Nijman needed to submit a doctor ’ s note stating that he should self-quarantine owing to a preëxisting health condition that would put him at higher risk of serious illness stemming from COVID-19 .
The representative added that “ the team is going to follow-up with him again and I hope that we ’ ll be able to help.
” Dara Khosrowshahi , the C.E.O .
of Uber , has said that it is because Uber drivers are independent contractors that he can ’ t do much to improve their circumstances .
Rideshare @ @ @ @ @ @ @ gig economy , are considered independent contractors , not employees , and are not entitled to traditional benefits , such as guaranteed wages and health insurance .
“ This situation certainly demonstrates the downside of attaching basic protections to W-2 employment , ” Khosrowshahi said in a conference call with financial analysts on March 19th , adding that there needs to be a “ third way ” that “ allows workers who want flexibility to work flexibly , based on what their own needs are , but also have access to protection.
” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Donald Trump in which he requested that the coronavirus stimulus package include funds for rideshare drivers and asked that Trump consider legislation “ on a ‘ third way ’ that would update our labor laws to remove the forced choice between flexibility and protection for millions of American workers.
” A particularly pressing issue now is unemployment benefits .
Uber , Lyft , and other rideshare companies are not legally required to contribute to an unemployment fund .
But , in 2018 , the New York State Court of Appeals ruled that drivers @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , and “ others similarly situated ” were eligible for unemployment benefits .
The decision was reaffirmed last month by the same court .
Though the ruling marked entitlements for gig workers , companies disagree that rideshare drivers are “ similarly situated ” ; in the meantime , Uber and Lyft have declined to report drivers ’ wages to the state , forcing drivers to engage in lengthy processes to prove that they are entitled to the payments .
On Friday , some Guild drivers in New York began to receive Pandemic Unemployment @ @ @ @ @ @ @ director of public policy at Uber , told me that the company has been pushing for a third legal category for years , in part because the concept of unemployment , as it exists under current law , does not fit with Uber ’ s model .
“ We want to raise the standard for independent and flexible work so drivers maintain control while getting a real safety net when they need it , ” he told me .
The Guild has had some success in gaining protections for drivers ; in 2018 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Fund—which provides workers ’ -compensation insurance to “ black car ” and limousine drivers—to make free telemedicine available to Uber and Lyft drivers .
But Muntz is not optimistic about the “ third way ” proposal .
She sees unionization as the only way to insure that drivers will be able to claim their rights .
“ Until drivers have the right to bargain , ” she told me , “ the companies will be able to continue changing driver terms at will .
”

Anil Subba, a Nepalese immigrant in his forties, living in Jackson Heights, Queens, worked as a rideshare driver to support his family. In early March, he picked up a visibly unwell passenger for Uber and drove him from Kennedy airport to Westchester County, a journey that took roughly an hour. New York City had just reported its first case of the novel coronavirus, and, according to Subba’s cousin, Munindra Nembang, who also drove for Uber, the trip from the airport so unnerved Subba that he stopped driving. (After publication, Uber reviewed location data attached to the driver’s account and disputed that Subba drove this route on the date Nembang recalled. A similar trip, from J.F.K. airport to Stamford, Connecticut, took place on February 27th.) Then he began to show symptoms of COVID-19 and was admitted to Elmhurst Hospital, a public facility in Queens that soon became known as “the epicenter of the epicenter.” He spent the last two days of his life on a ventilator. When he died, after midnight on March 24th, he became one of thirteen patients in the hospital to succumb to their conditions that day, and the first of several dozen drivers in the city who have done so.
In some respects, Subba’s life was like that of many rideshare drivers in New York City, Uber’s largest domestic market. According to a study conducted by two economists, James A. Parrott and Michael Reich, for the New School’s Center for New York City Affairs, more than nine out of ten of those drivers are immigrants. Around ninety-seven per cent are male, and half are middle-aged. Half have dependents, and seventy per cent are the main wage earners in their households.
The Independent Drivers Guild, which was formed in 2016 as an affiliate of the Machinists Union, represents more than two hundred thousand drivers in the tri-state area, including more than eighty thousand in New York City. The majority of them have stopped working; those who haven’t are seeing their expenses—insurance, gas, vehicle upkeep, and the cut that their company takes—outpace their earnings. (The insurance and the upkeep continue to be expenses even for those who stop working.) Shortly after Subba’s death, the guild released a statement blaming “poor federal screening and quarantine procedures at the airports” for putting drivers at unnecessary risk. “The government was telling returning travellers to go home and self-quarantine, but wasn’t providing a safe way to get them home,” the statement reads. “Where were the quarantine shuttles with drivers in protective gear, like we saw transporting cruise ship passengers?”
Four days after Subba’s death, I talked on the phone with an Uber driver named Johan Nijman, a soft-spoken native of Suriname who lives in St. Albans, Queens. After arriving in New York, in 1992, he saved up enough money to buy a taxi medallion, and, in 2003, he started his own company, Johan’s Limousine Service. But, when the rideshare services started, his business fell off, and, in February, 2017, he started driving for Uber himself. Like other drivers, he has seen his earnings drop in the past few months; by mid-March, he was pulling a tenth of his usual number of fares.
Nijman, who is sixty-four, lives alone—his wife, who had been a nurse, died in 2003, and their four children are grown and live out of the house—and he occasionally hosts friends and family from Suriname. At the end of March, a friend who had stayed with him returned home and, appearing ill, was quarantined. Nijman informed Uber that he may have been exposed and that, although he had no symptoms, he was following the recommendations of the C.D.C. and self-isolating. He added that his age and the fact that he has diabetes left him particularly vulnerable at this moment, and he requested sick pay.
Rideshare drivers don’t generally get sick pay, but, on March 7th, Uber announced that it would offer the equivalent of up to fourteen days’ worth of pay to drivers who could show that they had been infected with the coronavirus. However, because tests were in short supply, on March 15th, the company agreed to make payments to drivers who had a doctor’s note saying that they were sufficiently ill to quarantine. (The company has since offered to compensate drivers who are at high risk, too, but these payments are capped and do not cover a full fourteen days’ worth of pay.) But an Uber representative told Nijman, in an e-mail, that financial assistance is reserved “for drivers and delivery people on our platform who are diagnosed with COVID-19 or have individually been asked to quarantine by a public health authority or licensed medical provider due to their risk of spreading COVID-19.” Nijman told me, “I will not be tested if I don’t have symptoms. But, if I continue to work, how do I know I’m not passing it on to my passengers?” Moira Muntz, a spokesperson for the Independent Drivers Guild, told me that Nijman’s case is not unusual. “Every day, we are battling with companies on language,” she told me. “Which is so frustrating, because it seems like a word game on paper, but, for drivers, it’s their life and livelihoods.” When contacted about Nijman’s interaction, an Uber representative said that Nijman needed to submit a doctor’s note stating that he should self-quarantine owing to a preëxisting health condition that would put him at higher risk of serious illness stemming from COVID-19. The representative added that “the team is going to follow-up with him again and I hope that we’ll be able to help.”
Dara Khosrowshahi, the C.E.O. of Uber, has said that it is because Uber drivers are independent contractors that he can’t do much to improve their circumstances. Rideshare drivers, like other workers in the gig economy, are considered independent contractors, not employees, and are not entitled to traditional benefits, such as guaranteed wages and health insurance. “This situation certainly demonstrates the downside of attaching basic protections to W-2 employment,” Khosrowshahi said in a conference call with financial analysts on March 19th, adding that there needs to be a “third way” that “allows workers who want flexibility to work flexibly, based on what their own needs are, but also have access to protection.” Khosrowshahi also sent a letter to President Donald Trump in which he requested that the coronavirus stimulus package include funds for rideshare drivers and asked that Trump consider legislation “on a ‘third way’ that would update our labor laws to remove the forced choice between flexibility and protection for millions of American workers.”
A particularly pressing issue now is unemployment benefits. Uber, Lyft, and other rideshare companies are not legally required to contribute to an unemployment fund. But, in 2018, the New York State Court of Appeals ruled that drivers for Postmates, an online food-delivery service, and “others similarly situated” were eligible for unemployment benefits. The decision was reaffirmed last month by the same court. Though the ruling marked entitlements for gig workers, companies disagree that rideshare drivers are “similarly situated”; in the meantime, Uber and Lyft have declined to report drivers’ wages to the state, forcing drivers to engage in lengthy processes to prove that they are entitled to the payments. On Friday, some Guild drivers in New York began to receive Pandemic Unemployment Assistance. Andrew Byrne, a senior director of public policy at Uber, told me that the company has been pushing for a third legal category for years, in part because the concept of unemployment, as it exists under current law, does not fit with Uber’s model. “We want to raise the standard for independent and flexible work so drivers maintain control while getting a real safety net when they need it,” he told me.
The Guild has had some success in gaining protections for drivers; in 2018, it partnered with the Black Car Fund—which provides workers’-compensation insurance to “black car” and limousine drivers—to make free telemedicine available to Uber and Lyft drivers. But Muntz is not optimistic about the “third way” proposal. She sees unionization as the only way to insure that drivers will be able to claim their rights. “Until drivers have the right to bargain,” she told me, “the companies will be able to continue changing driver terms at will.”
“The advantages of driving for these app services when the times are good become catastrophic disadvantages when the times turn bad,” Jonathan Cousar, another New York-based Uber driver, told me. Cousar, who is originally from Atlanta, used to work in advertising. Now he chronicles his experiences on Ridester, a Web site that publishes first-person testimonials and news about the industry, and where he also conducts surveys on the demographics and incomes of drivers. Most drivers are attracted by the flexibility, he said. (Muntz says that many have to schedule their livelihoods around other responsibilities, citing a disproportionate number of single parents and people who are caretakers for others at home.) But, he noted, “The invisibility of the cost is what makes it all so frightening,” adding that “if you have a regular supply of customers you aren’t necessarily gaming out what your bank account will look like when disaster hits.” He told me, “Like this virus, there’s a real unpredictability to the job. And that’s what can kill you quicker than you can react.”


newyorker--2020-04-29--Elisa Gonzalez Reads Czeslaw Milosz

Elisa Gonzalez Reads Czeslaw Milosz

Elisa Gonzalez joins Kevin Young to read “ Gathering Apricots , ” by Czeslaw Milosz , translated by Robert Hass @ @ @ @ @ “ Failed Essay on Privilege.
” Gonzalez was recently a Fulbright scholar in Poland , @ @ @ @ @ support from the Norman Mailer Foundation and the Bread Loaf Writers ’ Conference .

Read a transcript.
Photograph by Simon Bahçeli
Elisa Gonzalez joins Kevin Young to read “Gathering Apricots,” by Czeslaw Milosz, translated by Robert Hass, and her own poem “Failed Essay on Privilege.” Gonzalez was recently a Fulbright scholar in Poland, and her work has received support from the Norman Mailer Foundation and the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference.


newyorker--2020-04-30--Who’s Right About the Economy—Jared Kushner or the Chairman of the Federal Reserve?

Jared Kushner was up early on Wednesday to offer his opinions about the coronavirus crisis to the hosts of “ Fox & Friends , ” his father-in-law ’ s favorite morning show .
Kushner virtually crashed the Internet with his claim that the Trump Administration ’ s handling of the pandemic “ is a great success story.
” He also made some rosy predictions about the reopening of the economy , saying that by June “ a lot of the country should be back to normal , ” and adding , “ the hope is that by July the country @ @ @ @ @ @ @ be fair to Kushner , he isn ’ t the only optimist .
The stock market , after plummeting in March , has jumped about thirty per cent this month , and Wednesday was another up day .
The Dow Jones Industrial Average tacked on more than five hundred and thirty points after the National Institutes of Health announced positive results from a clinical trial in which COVID-19 patients were treated with the antiviral drug remdesivir .
Investors are wagering that the economic impact of the pandemic isn ’ t going to be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and that large parts of the economy will recover pretty quickly .
Amid all this upbeat feeling , the policymakers at the Federal Reserve completed a two-day meeting , at which they reviewed the state of the economy and the impact of the emergency measures that they and Congress have introduced during the past six weeks .
A Fed statement released after the meeting evinced none of the sunny optimism displayed elsewhere .
“ The coronavirus outbreak is causing tremendous human and economic hardship across the United States and around the world , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ public health crisis will weigh heavily on economic activity , employment , and inflation in the near term , and poses considerable risks to the economic outlook over the medium term.
” At a video press conference , the Fed ’ s chairman , Jerome ( Jay ) Powell , said that “ economic activity will likely drop at an unprecedented rate ” in the second quarter of the year , and he said the jobless rate could leap to double figures when the April employment figures are released , next week .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s emergency actions , which have involved pumping more than $ 2.3 trillion into the financial system , have “ helped market conditions substantially , ” he deferred from making any specific longer-term predictions about a broader economic rebound .
The depth and duration of the current slump , he said , are “ extraordinarily uncertain.
” Powell didn ’ t explicitly say that investors are underestimating the challenges facing the economy , but that was clearly the suggestion .
While acknowledging that economic activity would pick up as the shutdowns are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ facing the economy over the next year : the path of the virus , and the possibility of additional outbreaks ; the possibility that rising job losses and a wave of business failures would damage the economy ’ s “ productive capacity ” ; and the “ very , very negative ” economic data from the rest of the world , which “ can weigh on the U.S. economic performance over time.
” The Fed chairman also expressed doubt that consumer spending , which makes up about seventy per cent of G.D.P.
, @ @ @ @ @ @ @ after the economy reopens .
“ Until [ people ] are confident that the virus is well and truly under control they will be reluctant to undertake certain kinds of activities , ” he said .
In view of all these challenges , Powell said , “ it probably will take some time to get back to a more normal level of employment.
” He also said the economy may well “ need more support from all of us ” —i.e.
, the Federal Reserve , Congress , and the Trump Administration—to insure @ @ @ @ @ @ @ question about some Republicans raising concerns that the federal government is spending too much money , and federal debt levels are rising too fast , he went on , “ This is not the time to act on those concerns .
This is the time to use the great fiscal power of the United States to do what we can to support the economy and try to get through this with as little damage to the longer-run productive capacity of the economy as possible.
” It was a sober assessment from Powell , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ earlier post , has generally received high marks for the Fed ’ s response to the pandemic .
Doubtless , his caution reflected the experiences that China has had as it eased its lockdowns .
While factories and some service industries have reopened , over-all spending has rebounded slowly as many consumers have displayed the sort of caution that Powell referred to at his press conference .
An article in the South China Morning Post last week described the Chinese recovery as “ patchy and piecemeal.
” Reports from a few states that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , such as Georgia , indicate that a similar pattern is likely to play out across the United States .
On Monday , David Calhoun , the chief executive of Boeing , said it would take “ two to three years for travel to return to 2019 levels.
” Of course , Calhoun and Powell could turn out to be wrong , and the optimists , including Kushner and the investors piling into stocks , could turn out to be right .
But whom would you put your trust in ?
• Twenty-four @ @ @ @ @ @ @ : 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 not .
• Can survivors help cure 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 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 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 people .
• What to read , watch , cook , and listen to under quarantine .

Jared Kushner was up early on Wednesday to offer his opinions about the coronavirus crisis to the hosts of “Fox & Friends,” his father-in-law’s favorite morning show. Kushner virtually crashed the Internet with his claim that the Trump Administration’s handling of the pandemic “is a great success story.” He also made some rosy predictions about the reopening of the economy, saying that by June “a lot of the country should be back to normal,” and adding, “the hope is that by July the country’s really rocking again.”
To be fair to Kushner, he isn’t the only optimist. The stock market, after plummeting in March, has jumped about thirty per cent this month, and Wednesday was another up day. The Dow Jones Industrial Average tacked on more than five hundred and thirty points after the National Institutes of Health announced positive results from a clinical trial in which COVID-19 patients were treated with the antiviral drug remdesivir. Investors are wagering that the economic impact of the pandemic isn’t going to be as dire as was first thought, and that large parts of the economy will recover pretty quickly.
Amid all this upbeat feeling, the policymakers at the Federal Reserve completed a two-day meeting, at which they reviewed the state of the economy and the impact of the emergency measures that they and Congress have introduced during the past six weeks. A Fed statement released after the meeting evinced none of the sunny optimism displayed elsewhere. “The coronavirus outbreak is causing tremendous human and economic hardship across the United States and around the world,” it said. “The ongoing public health crisis will weigh heavily on economic activity, employment, and inflation in the near term, and poses considerable risks to the economic outlook over the medium term.”
At a video press conference, the Fed’s chairman, Jerome (Jay) Powell, said that “economic activity will likely drop at an unprecedented rate” in the second quarter of the year, and he said the jobless rate could leap to double figures when the April employment figures are released, next week. Even as Powell noted that the Fed’s emergency actions, which have involved pumping more than $2.3 trillion into the financial system, have “helped market conditions substantially,” he deferred from making any specific longer-term predictions about a broader economic rebound. The depth and duration of the current slump, he said, are “extraordinarily uncertain.”
Powell didn’t explicitly say that investors are underestimating the challenges facing the economy, but that was clearly the suggestion. While acknowledging that economic activity would pick up as the shutdowns are relaxed, he also highlighted three risks facing the economy over the next year: the path of the virus, and the possibility of additional outbreaks; the possibility that rising job losses and a wave of business failures would damage the economy’s “productive capacity”; and the “very, very negative” economic data from the rest of the world, which “can weigh on the U.S. economic performance over time.” The Fed chairman also expressed doubt that consumer spending, which makes up about seventy per cent of G.D.P., would rebound to its previous levels even after the economy reopens. “Until [people] are confident that the virus is well and truly under control they will be reluctant to undertake certain kinds of activities,” he said.
In view of all these challenges, Powell said, “it probably will take some time to get back to a more normal level of employment.” He also said the economy may well “need more support from all of us”—i.e., the Federal Reserve, Congress, and the Trump Administration—to insure a robust recovery. Responding to a question about some Republicans raising concerns that the federal government is spending too much money, and federal debt levels are rising too fast, he went on, “This is not the time to act on those concerns. This is the time to use the great fiscal power of the United States to do what we can to support the economy and try to get through this with as little damage to the longer-run productive capacity of the economy as possible.”
It was a sober assessment from Powell, who, as I noted in an earlier post, has generally received high marks for the Fed’s response to the pandemic. Doubtless, his caution reflected the experiences that China has had as it eased its lockdowns. While factories and some service industries have reopened, over-all spending has rebounded slowly as many consumers have displayed the sort of caution that Powell referred to at his press conference. An article in the South China Morning Post last week described the Chinese recovery as “patchy and piecemeal.”
Reports from a few states that have already reopened some of their businesses, such as Georgia, indicate that a similar pattern is likely to play out across the United States. On Monday, David Calhoun, the chief executive of Boeing, said it would take “two to three years for travel to return to 2019 levels.” Of course, Calhoun and Powell could turn out to be wrong, and the optimists, including Kushner and the investors piling into stocks, could turn out to be right. But whom would you put your trust in?
A Guide to the Coronavirus


newyorker--2020-04-29--Eavan Boland in The New Yorker

Eavan Boland in The New Yorker

The influential Irish poet Eavan Boland died on Monday , at the age of seventy-five .
Her poems , which have appeared in The New Yorker for over thirty years , limn the legacies of history , in her home country and beyond , and reckon especially with the repression of women ’ s accomplishments , realities , and inner lives .
Boland , who taught generations of students at Stanford , where she was the director of the creative-writing program , intervened in national literary narratives by illuminating the textures of ordinary labor and daily intimacy .
Boland was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ New Yorker published “ The Black Lace Fan My Mother Gave Me , ” in 1987 .
The poem ’ s titular artifact leads the speaker to contemplate the evening it was originally gifted to her mother , “ in prewar Paris ” ; clipped , unadorned sentences create a sense of anticipation , so that , as the poem looks backward from the present , it also seems to look forward from the past : “ The streets were emptying .
The heat was killing .
/ She thought the distance smelled @ @ @ @ @ @ @ seemingly imminent event—the lovers ’ rendezvous , the summer storm , the outbreak of war—never comes .
“ And no way now to know what happened then— / none at all—unless , of course , you improvise , ” Boland writes .
Her inheritance is an untold story , a reminder that the details of the past are almost as obscure as the future—but it is also an invitation to imagine , to depart from prescribed expectations .
The final stanza shifts focus to “ The blackbird on this first sultry morning / @ @ @ @ @ @ @ finding buds , worms , fruit , / feels the heat .
Suddenly , she puts out her wing— / the whole , full , flirtatious span of it ” —a bold gesture that visually echoes but radically repurposes the image of the lace fan .
This instance of surprising improvisation nods to Boland ’ s broader poetic project , transforming a carefully crafted , memory-laden object into a wilder instrument of power , flight , and freedom .
Other poems from Boland ’ s collection “ Outside History , ” such as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Sonnet ” and “ Mountain Time , ” also negotiate gendered tensions between nature and culture .
The speaker of “ White Hawthorn in the West of Ireland ” identifies with the “ sharp flowers , ” but is kept at a distance by the custom “ Not to bring it indoors for the sake of // the luck / such constraint would forfeit.
” She envies the hawthorn its fetterless , unselfconscious existence ( “ a fluency / only water has ” ) , as well as its agency ( “ And @ @ @ @ @ @ @ redefine land ” ) .
It is self-determination that the speaker craves and that the author ultimately claims—in the act of writing , becoming , or at least striving to become , “ free to seem to be // .
.
.
/ the only language spoken in those parts.
” The poems “ Our Origins Are in the Sea , ” “ What We Lost , ” and “ Nights of Childhood , ” published together in The New Yorker , in 1989 , locate the roots of Boland ’ s art @ @ @ @ @ @ @ myth , memory , and youth , where elemental impressions and impulses mingle with , yet remain unconquered by , the rigid structures of social convention and history .
Such structures receive chilling critique in “ The Dolls ’ Museum in Dublin , ” whose slant-rhyming quatrains condemn the fate to which restrictive gender roles confine women— “ the hostages ignorance / takes from time and ornament from destiny.
” Refused the opportunity and the vocabulary to articulate their oppression , these women are doomed “ To be the present of the past @ @ @ @ @ @ @ But not feel it .
And not know it.
” For Boland , again , the creative act is a declaration of autonomy , an intercession against oblivion ; it allows access to a primal , uninhibited space that women are so often denied , but also facilitates connections between individual experiences and larger narratives .
“ The Pomegranate , ” published in The New Yorker in 1993 , employs the legend of Ceres and Persephone to reflect on motherhood and daughterhood , the griefs particular to each role , and how the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and loss : “ It is another world .
But what else / Can a mother give her daughter but such / Beautiful rifts in time ?
” In “ Love , ” the speaker addresses her husband .
“ Across our day-to-day and ordinary distances / we speak plainly .
We hear each other clearly , ” she writes , yet : Boland employs the tropes of mythology not to glorify , aggrandize , or even redeem the common struggles of regular people—but , rather , to show how those tropes and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ especially where the former seem to excise or romanticize the latter .
“ Quarantine , ” which appeared in The New Yorker in 2001 , tells of a couple during the Irish famine : “ the worst hour of the worst season / of the worst year of a whole people.
” Boland writes , “ In the morning they were both found dead .
/ Of cold .
Of hunger .
Of the toxins of a whole history.
” Lest the reader be inclined to make of them martyrs or sentimental symbols @ @ @ @ @ @ @ would-be love poem ’ s unflinching brutality , its “ merciless inventory , ” is the source of its grace and justice : Boland refuses to let the lyric off the hook of history .
Discussing her book “ Against Love Poetry , ” which includes “ Quarantine , ” Boland mentioned a “ disagreement ” with the Irish poetic tradition— “ its heroism , its resistance to ordinariness , its elevated stance.
” This argument underscores such poems as “ A Marriage for the Millennium ” and “ Lines Written for a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ what Boland calls the “ treasurable parts of a marriage that actually reflect time.
” Her value of such “ hallowed inattentions ” extends past the context of marriage in poems like “ An Elegy for My Mother in Which She Scarcely Appears ” and “ The Lost Art of Letter Writing , ” which mourn not only extinct , or at least endangered , implements and pastimes , nor just the worlds to which they belonged , but also the people to whom they mattered—and still matter , and might yet matter @ @ @ @ @ @ @ My Mother .
.
.
” ends : Boland ’ s latest contribution to the magazine was , coincidentally , published on the day of her death .
Especially resonant in this moment of global crisis , “ Eviction ” is as clear , resolute , and righteous in its anger as her best work seeking to account for the lives to which history is indifferent .
“ A woman leaves a courtroom in tears .
/ A nation is rising to the light .
/ History notes the second , not the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ My attention has / no agency , none at all .
Nor my rage.
” Another new poem from Eavan Boland ’ s forthcoming collection , “ The Historians , ” will be published in the May 11 , 2020 , issue of The New Yorker .

Eavan Boland’s latest contribution to the magazine was, coincidentally, published on the day of her death. Photograph by Linda A. Cicero \ Stanford
The influential Irish poet Eavan Boland died on Monday, at the age of seventy-five. Her poems, which have appeared in The New Yorker for over thirty years, limn the legacies of history, in her home country and beyond, and reckon especially with the repression of women’s accomplishments, realities, and inner lives. Boland, who taught generations of students at Stanford, where she was the director of the creative-writing program, intervened in national literary narratives by illuminating the textures of ordinary labor and daily intimacy.
Boland was an acclaimed writer by the time The New Yorker published “The Black Lace Fan My Mother Gave Me,” in 1987. The poem’s titular artifact leads the speaker to contemplate the evening it was originally gifted to her mother, “in prewar Paris”; clipped, unadorned sentences create a sense of anticipation, so that, as the poem looks backward from the present, it also seems to look forward from the past: “The streets were emptying. The heat was killing. / She thought the distance smelled of rain and lightning.” But the seemingly imminent event—the lovers’ rendezvous, the summer storm, the outbreak of war—never comes. “And no way now to know what happened then— / none at all—unless, of course, you improvise,” Boland writes. Her inheritance is an untold story, a reminder that the details of the past are almost as obscure as the future—but it is also an invitation to imagine, to depart from prescribed expectations. The final stanza shifts focus to “The blackbird on this first sultry morning / in summer,” who, “finding buds, worms, fruit, / feels the heat. Suddenly, she puts out her wing— / the whole, full, flirtatious span of it”—a bold gesture that visually echoes but radically repurposes the image of the lace fan. This instance of surprising improvisation nods to Boland’s broader poetic project, transforming a carefully crafted, memory-laden object into a wilder instrument of power, flight, and freedom.
Other poems from Boland’s collection “Outside History,” such as “Spring at the Edge of the Sonnet” and “Mountain Time,” also negotiate gendered tensions between nature and culture. The speaker of “White Hawthorn in the West of Ireland” identifies with the “sharp flowers,” but is kept at a distance by the custom “Not to bring it indoors for the sake of // the luck / such constraint would forfeit.” She envies the hawthorn its fetterless, unselfconscious existence (“a fluency / only water has”), as well as its agency (“And, like water, able / to redefine land”). It is self-determination that the speaker craves and that the author ultimately claims—in the act of writing, becoming, or at least striving to become, “free to seem to be // . . . / the only language spoken in those parts.” The poems “Our Origins Are in the Sea,” “What We Lost,” and “Nights of Childhood,” published together in The New Yorker, in 1989, locate the roots of Boland’s art in the fevered, half-governed realms of myth, memory, and youth, where elemental impressions and impulses mingle with, yet remain unconquered by, the rigid structures of social convention and history.
Such structures receive chilling critique in “The Dolls’ Museum in Dublin,” whose slant-rhyming quatrains condemn the fate to which restrictive gender roles confine women—“the hostages ignorance / takes from time and ornament from destiny.” Refused the opportunity and the vocabulary to articulate their oppression, these women are doomed “To be the present of the past . . . / . . . But not feel it. And not know it.” For Boland, again, the creative act is a declaration of autonomy, an intercession against oblivion; it allows access to a primal, uninhibited space that women are so often denied, but also facilitates connections between individual experiences and larger narratives. “The Pomegranate,” published in The New Yorker in 1993, employs the legend of Ceres and Persephone to reflect on motherhood and daughterhood, the griefs particular to each role, and how the relationship between them is marked by change and loss: “It is another world. But what else / Can a mother give her daughter but such / Beautiful rifts in time?” In “Love,” the speaker addresses her husband. “Across our day-to-day and ordinary distances / we speak plainly. We hear each other clearly,” she writes, yet:
I see you as a hero in a text—
the image blazing and the edges gilded—
and I long to cry out the epic question,
my dear companion:
Will we ever live so intensely again?
Boland employs the tropes of mythology not to glorify, aggrandize, or even redeem the common struggles of regular people—but, rather, to show how those tropes and struggles are inherently intertwined, even and especially where the former seem to excise or romanticize the latter. “Quarantine,” which appeared in The New Yorker in 2001, tells of a couple during the Irish famine: “the worst hour of the worst season / of the worst year of a whole people.” Boland writes, “In the morning they were both found dead. / Of cold. Of hunger. Of the toxins of a whole history.” Lest the reader be inclined to make of them martyrs or sentimental symbols, however, she implores:
Let no love poem ever come to this threshold.
There is no place here for the inexact
praise of the easy graces and sensuality of the body.
There is only time for this merciless inventory: Their death together in the winter of 1847.
And also what they suffered. How they lived.
And what there is between a man and a woman.
And in which darkness it can best be proved.
The would-be love poem’s unflinching brutality, its “merciless inventory,” is the source of its grace and justice: Boland refuses to let the lyric off the hook of history. Discussing her book “Against Love Poetry,” which includes “Quarantine,” Boland mentioned a “disagreement” with the Irish poetic tradition—“its heroism, its resistance to ordinariness, its elevated stance.” This argument underscores such poems as “A Marriage for the Millennium” and “Lines Written for a Thirtieth Wedding Anniversary,” which foreground what Boland calls the “treasurable parts of a marriage that actually reflect time.” Her value of such “hallowed inattentions” extends past the context of marriage in poems like “An Elegy for My Mother in Which She Scarcely Appears” and “The Lost Art of Letter Writing,” which mourn not only extinct, or at least endangered, implements and pastimes, nor just the worlds to which they belonged, but also the people to whom they mattered—and still matter, and might yet matter one day. “An Elegy for My Mother . . .” ends:
. . . and here am I,
not even born and already a conservationist,
with nothing to assist me but the last
and most fabulous of beasts—language, language—
which knows, as I do, that it’s too late
to record the loss of these things but does so anyway,
and anxiously, in case it shares their fate.
Boland’s latest contribution to the magazine was, coincidentally, published on the day of her death. Especially resonant in this moment of global crisis, “Eviction” is as clear, resolute, and righteous in its anger as her best work seeking to account for the lives to which history is indifferent. “A woman leaves a courtroom in tears. / A nation is rising to the light. / History notes the second, not the first,” she writes. “My attention has / no agency, none at all. Nor my rage.”
Another new poem from Eavan Boland’s forthcoming collection, “The Historians,” will be published in the May 11, 2020, issue of The New Yorker.


newyorker--2020-04-29--The Coronavirus and the Future of Big Tech

“ She hates the United States perhaps worse than any person I ’ ve ever met.
” This was President Trump ’ s assessment of Margrethe Vestager , the Danish politician who , as the Commissioner for Competition , leads the European Union ’ s antitrust division .
Over the past five years , Vestager has become known for her attempts to regulate the tech industry .
Her office ’ s investigations of Apple , Facebook , and Google have resulted in billions of dollars in fines for anti-competitive behavior and tax avoidance , garnering praise from those concerned about @ @ @ @ @ @ @ well as complaints from business leaders and some American politicians .
When Vestager ’ s second term began , in November , 2019 , her job expanded to include digital policymaking for the European Union .
In addition to enforcing antitrust laws , Vestager now oversees policy related to cybersecurity , big data , and artificial intelligence .
In recent months , the spread of COVID-19 has presented a number of challenges for Vestager ’ s office , including widespread unemployment , pharmaceutical price-gouging , and the use of digital technology to track @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of potential Chinese takeovers of European businesses in response to the economic conditions brought about by the coronavirus .
I recently spoke by phone with Vestager .
During our conversation , which has been edited and condensed for clarity , we discussed how the coronavirus may force a trade-off between privacy and health , her disagreements with Elizabeth Warren about how to regulate the tech industry , and whether politicians make the best technocrats .
What is life like in Brussels at the moment ?
Well , it ’ s very strange , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and the world outside is at a standstill .
I was out on the terrace having breakfast this morning .
The weather is beautiful , and it was as if I was in nature .
Birds were singing , there was a dog barking , no traffic sounds—none of the city sounds whatsoever .
It ’ s really strange .
Are you working from home , or from one of the E.U .
buildings in Brussels ?
I ’ m part of the business continuity essential people team , so I go to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ cent of all [ European ] Commission staffers are teleworking .
We really found that our I.T .
support are our unsung heroes , because before the lockdown we had three thousand people teleworking , and now I think it ’ s about twenty-six thousand people .
It ’ s an amazing endeavor , and it works .
Of course , it ’ s very , very stressful for the people who are at home with their children and worried about their loved ones , and having to be teachers and caretakers and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ work continues , and it ’ s very intense .
What does your job mainly consist of right now , and how much has it changed in light of the coronavirus ?
Right now , we do a lot of state aid control , because , basically , from the 10th or 12th of March , we realized that this was going to be really , really , really tricky for all of Europe .
So we used two articles in our treaty in order to authorize massive , massive aid for businesses @ @ @ @ @ @ @ : aid to isolate and just to keep people employed .
Then we have ongoing antitrust investigations .
We have allowed for corporations to insure a supply of generic drugs , while at the same time we look into the complaints we get when people are worried that there is price gouging , and then we also still have ongoing merger investigations .
We also have a few of them where we ’ ve had to stop the clock because of lack of information , but the work is ongoing .
The economy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ team—those are my main occupations .
Over the next months , and maybe years , people are going to increasingly view privacy and public health as being in tension with each other .
Has your view of how to approach privacy changed at all ?
I think that is a false dilemma , because you can do so many things with technology that are not invasive of your privacy .
I think that , very often , when people say it ’ s only doable in one way , it ’ s because @ @ @ @ @ @ @ purposes .
We have made a set of guidelines , and with member states we have translated that into a toolbox , so that you can do a voluntary app with decentralized storage , with Bluetooth technology .
You can use technology to track the virus , but you can still give people the freedom of choice , and , in doing that , people trust that the technology is for virus tracking and not for any other purposes .
I think it is essential that we show that we really mean it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ able to trust technology when you use it , that this is not a start of a new era of surveillance .
This is for virus tracking , and this can help us open our societies .
You used the word “ we , ” but a lot of the companies that are getting involved in contract tracing , such as Apple and Google , are companies whose honesty you yourself have called into question previously .
Is that a concern ?
Well , obviously , the giants will have to be involved @ @ @ @ @ @ @ basically their domain .
Actually , I find it quite encouraging that Google , with Android , and Apple , with iOS , tend to think about a decentralized system .
I think the important thing here is transparency , that third parties have access to the technology and can vouch for it .
We have authorities of different kinds , because , obviously , this will have to be very close coöperation between many , many parties , because the point is that we want to open our society .
We want @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , and cross borders , and for apps on different phones with different operating systems to work with one another .
That is of the essence .
It has to be a collaboration between many different parties .
Is this something that your office is starting to think about , and do you have specific concerns about it ?
Oh , we think intensively about this .
The cross-border issue is one of the essential things , because one thing is that if you tend to trust your own government , you might @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , but would you also do that in a neighboring country , where you are not part of the democratic control ?
The cross-border issue , and being able to track the virus when you travel across a border , that is of the essence .
It ’ s not exactly the same as in the United States , but many , many people work on the other side of the border from where they live .
There ’ s a lot of going back and forth .
There ’ s a lot @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s lots of tourism , and tourism is a very important industry for many European countries .
Of course , you want to have a system where people could be alerted if they had been close to someone who later proved to be infected .
I ’ m surprised that you don ’ t have more concerns about some of the companies moving into this space , because of things you ’ ve said in the past and your offices levying fines and penalties and opening investigations into them .
Yeah , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it is not blind trust .
It is trust based on transparency .
I think that ’ s the most important thing , and I think it ’ s a good thing that everyone in a global situation like this can do something that is really useful .
I definitely think that it is doable .

“She hates the United States perhaps worse than any person I’ve ever met.” This was President Trump’s assessment of Margrethe Vestager, the Danish politician who, as the Commissioner for Competition, leads the European Union’s antitrust division. Over the past five years, Vestager has become known for her attempts to regulate the tech industry. Her office’s investigations of Apple, Facebook, and Google have resulted in billions of dollars in fines for anti-competitive behavior and tax avoidance, garnering praise from those concerned about big tech’s power, as well as complaints from business leaders and some American politicians.
When Vestager’s second term began, in November, 2019, her job expanded to include digital policymaking for the European Union. In addition to enforcing antitrust laws, Vestager now oversees policy related to cybersecurity, big data, and artificial intelligence. In recent months, the spread of COVID-19 has presented a number of challenges for Vestager’s office, including widespread unemployment, pharmaceutical price-gouging, and the use of digital technology to track the virus.
Vestager has also warned of potential Chinese takeovers of European businesses in response to the economic conditions brought about by the coronavirus.
I recently spoke by phone with Vestager. During our conversation, which has been edited and condensed for clarity, we discussed how the coronavirus may force a trade-off between privacy and health, her disagreements with Elizabeth Warren about how to regulate the tech industry, and whether politicians make the best technocrats.
What is life like in Brussels at the moment?
Well, it’s very strange, because we are busier than ever, and the world outside is at a standstill. I was out on the terrace having breakfast this morning. The weather is beautiful, and it was as if I was in nature. Birds were singing, there was a dog barking, no traffic sounds—none of the city sounds whatsoever. It’s really strange.
Are you working from home, or from one of the E.U. buildings in Brussels?
I’m part of the business continuity essential people team, so I go to the office every day. Ninety-five per cent of all [European] Commission staffers are teleworking. We really found that our I.T. support are our unsung heroes, because before the lockdown we had three thousand people teleworking, and now I think it’s about twenty-six thousand people. It’s an amazing endeavor, and it works.
Of course, it’s very, very stressful for the people who are at home with their children and worried about their loved ones, and having to be teachers and caretakers and working at the same time. But work continues, and it’s very intense.
What does your job mainly consist of right now, and how much has it changed in light of the coronavirus?
Right now, we do a lot of state aid control, because, basically, from the 10th or 12th of March, we realized that this was going to be really, really, really tricky for all of Europe. So we used two articles in our treaty in order to authorize massive, massive aid for businesses. That has been our main focus: aid to isolate and just to keep people employed.
Then we have ongoing antitrust investigations. We have allowed for corporations to insure a supply of generic drugs, while at the same time we look into the complaints we get when people are worried that there is price gouging, and then we also still have ongoing merger investigations. We also have a few of them where we’ve had to stop the clock because of lack of information, but the work is ongoing. The economy and being part of the Commission crisis-management team—those are my main occupations.
Over the next months, and maybe years, people are going to increasingly view privacy and public health as being in tension with each other. Has your view of how to approach privacy changed at all?
I think that is a false dilemma, because you can do so many things with technology that are not invasive of your privacy. I think that, very often, when people say it’s only doable in one way, it’s because they want the data for their own purposes. We have made a set of guidelines, and with member states we have translated that into a toolbox, so that you can do a voluntary app with decentralized storage, with Bluetooth technology.
You can use technology to track the virus, but you can still give people the freedom of choice, and, in doing that, people trust that the technology is for virus tracking and not for any other purposes. I think it is essential that we show that we really mean it when we say that you should be able to trust technology when you use it, that this is not a start of a new era of surveillance. This is for virus tracking, and this can help us open our societies.
You used the word “we,” but a lot of the companies that are getting involved in contract tracing, such as Apple and Google, are companies whose honesty you yourself have called into question previously. Is that a concern?
Well, obviously, the giants will have to be involved, because the operating system’s basically their domain. Actually, I find it quite encouraging that Google, with Android, and Apple, with iOS, tend to think about a decentralized system. I think the important thing here is transparency, that third parties have access to the technology and can vouch for it. We have authorities of different kinds, because, obviously, this will have to be very close coöperation between many, many parties, because the point is that we want to open our society. We want people to be able to travel again, and cross borders, and for apps on different phones with different operating systems to work with one another. That is of the essence. It has to be a collaboration between many different parties.
Is this something that your office is starting to think about, and do you have specific concerns about it?
Oh, we think intensively about this. The cross-border issue is one of the essential things, because one thing is that if you tend to trust your own government, you might voluntarily accept a centralized storage of data, but would you also do that in a neighboring country, where you are not part of the democratic control?
The cross-border issue, and being able to track the virus when you travel across a border, that is of the essence. It’s not exactly the same as in the United States, but many, many people work on the other side of the border from where they live. There’s a lot of going back and forth. There’s a lot of transportation, and of course there’s lots of tourism, and tourism is a very important industry for many European countries. Of course, you want to have a system where people could be alerted if they had been close to someone who later proved to be infected.
I’m surprised that you don’t have more concerns about some of the companies moving into this space, because of things you’ve said in the past and your offices levying fines and penalties and opening investigations into them.