Kaitlyn Tiffany

Kaitlyn Tiffany is a staff writer at The Atlantic , where she covers technology .
• Paranoia about secret government plots thrives in times of uncertainty , when strange things happen , and when people are bored .
This summer is a trifecta .
• Reddit Is Finally Facing Its Legacy of Racism Social-media platforms can ’ t evade the scrutiny that so many other institutions in America are currently under .
• Why K-pop Fans Are No Longer Posting About K-pop Twitter fan accounts are organizing to support the protests , often before the celebrities they love say a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ groceries and spare air conditioners via tools designed to turn labor into money as efficiently as possible .
• Someone who looks like they ’ re always staying inside on Instagram may actually have a double life they ’ re hiding to avoid judgment .
• Something in the Air The coronavirus pandemic is sparking baseless theories about the dangers of 5G .
But the fear that wireless technology is slowly killing us isn ’ t new—and it doesn ’ t appear to be going away anytime soon .
• It ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Life is just four walls for many of us right now , but bizarre augmented-reality filters give us the illusion that it ’ s not .
• Prom at Home Is Sad , but Sweet The pandemic has canceled proms nationwide , but teens are still re-creating the joy of them on TikTok .
• The World Where The Bachelor Will Never Stop Airing Reality TV won ’ t be filming for the foreseeable future—except in The Sims .
• No , the Internet Is Not Good Again After a few weeks of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , the cracks are starting to show .
• What is it about a crisis that can turn even a 79-year-old immunologist into a heartthrob ?

Kaitlyn Tiffany is a staff writer at The Atlantic and the author of Everything I Need I Get From You: How Fangirls Created the Internet as We Know It
She is the co-author of On Nobody Famous: Guesting, Gossiping, Gallivanting . Before joining The Atlantic in 2019, Kaitlyn was a reporter for Vox’s consumer-culture vertical, The Goods. At The Atlantic, she writes about internet culture and technology.
Illustration by Ben Kothe / The Atlantic So Maybe Facebook Didn’t Ruin Politics Large-scale experiments on social media, run behind the scenes during the 2020 election, suggest there is no simple fix for American democracy.
Paul Windle What’s More ‘Indie Sleaze’ Than Turning 31? The semi-ironic theme party is a delicate art.
Illustration by Ben Kothe / The Atlantic. Source: … We’re in a Golden Age of Illegal Sports Streams But why should anyone have to break the law to watch the Mets?
Illustration by Ben Kothe / The Atlantic. Source: … Everyone Has ‘Car Brain’ Online communities dedicated to criticizing cars and the people who love them have developed an insult that … kind of makes sense.
AI-Generated Junk Is Flooding Etsy Coloring books, stickers, mugs, and T-shirts are being pumped out by AI-assisted hustlers.
Illustration by Jackie Carlise No One Knows Exactly What Social Media Is Doing to Teens Years and years of research add up to an uncomfortable reality: The connection between social media and mental health is more complicated than it seems.
Paul Windle A Garden Party to Mark the Start of Summer Lizzie and Kaitlyn manifest a successful growing season for Brooklyn’s crops.
Paul Windle Three Hours in a Bar Full of Bravo Fans Lizzie and Kaitlyn down dubious “Pumptinis” at a live screening of the scariest show on television.
Paul Windle It’s Not Gambling If You Know You’re Going to Lose Lizzie and Kaitlyn head to Queens for a day at the racetrack.
Illustration by Daniel Zender. Source: Getty. Phones Will Never Be Fun Again I tried to shop for a flip phone. All I found was slabs.
Illustration by Joanne Imperio / The Atlantic The Influencer Industry Is Having an Existential Crisis People who make their living by sharing content on giant social-media platforms have tried to strike, organize, and even unionize, but they don’t have much to show for it.
Houston Cofield / NYT / Redux How Ivermectin Became a Belief System The deworming drug is central to an improvisational, alternative medical subculture that was forming even before the pandemic.
Paul Windle The Most Beautiful Lamps in New York Lizzie and Kaitlyn, first-time lamp-makers, attend the art show that rejected them.
DANIEL MIHAILESCU / AFP / Getty; The Atlantic Andrew Tate Is Haunting YouTube Many months after a misogynist influencer was banned from social media, his face is still everywhere. Will it ever go away?
Joanne Imperio / The Atlantic The Supreme Court Actually Understands the Internet Justices acquitted themselves well during oral arguments on two pivotal cases this week.
The Atlantic Welcome to the Golden Age of Clichés Chatbots can’t think outside the box, unleashing even more nonsense filler words onto the world.
Paul Windle A Night on a Jeopardy-themed Bar Crawl “What is the act of visiting multiple bars in a single night?”
Fred Schilling, Collection of the Supreme Court of … The Supreme Court Considers the Algorithm A very weird Section 230 case is headed to the country’s highest court.
Paul Windle ‘Breakup Chili’ Season in Brooklyn Lizzie and Kaitlyn attend a party with a very specific heart- and belly-warming theme.


theatlantic--2020-05-14--The Coming Mental-Health Crisis

The Coming Mental-Health Crisis

Read : I was depressed before all of this .
Now what ?
First , lawmakers should provide explicit financial support for mental-health and addiction clinicians to provide meaningful , timely , and convenient care .
Any enhanced funding to Medicaid programs or hospitals should explicitly include an allocation for mental-health resources , including prioritization for programs that integrate mental-health resources in emergency rooms and other hospital wards .
Second , the pandemic is a prime opportunity to rethink the American approach to mental-health care in its entirety—to adopt a new vision and create an integrated system of services that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ care , our schools , our prisons , our workplaces , and our homes .
Such a system will require substantial investment .
Yet better mental-health services have not been a priority during the current pandemic .
The CARES Act , the $ 2 trillion relief bill that flew through Congress , included a paltry $ 425 million for the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration .
That investment is welcome , but it also underscores the dearth of official interest in this vital area .
For reference , $ 425 million @ @ @ @ @ @ @ total amount invested in the airline industry and an even smaller fraction of the $ 185 billion dedicated to health-care providers as a whole .
Crises offer policy makers a chance to take a fresh look at the nation ’ s problems .
But Congress is failing to capitalize on the mental-health crisis in any meaningful way .
George Packer : We are living in a failed state Recent data from the Kaiser Family Foundation illustrate the need for both a short- and long-term strategy for better mental- and behavioral-health care .
When @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the coronavirus had hurt their mental health , four in 10 in the Kaiser survey reported that worry or stress had led to sleep problems .
Others reported that the coronavirus had caused them to experience a variety of health-related ills , such as frequent headaches or stomachaches and increased alcohol or drug use .
If these problems are not addressed now , they may fester and worsen in the future .
The challenge is daunting—and not just for those who already face mental-health and substance-abuse issues and those at risk because of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the pandemic .
The people crucial to fighting the coronavirus are vulnerable as well .
Most telling in this latest round of survey data is the impact that COVID-19 is having on essential workers , including health-care personnel .
Two-thirds of those surveyed who live in a home with a health-care worker reported that the worry or stress from the virus had caused them to experience at least one adverse effect on their mental health or well-being sometime over the past two months .
Recent suicides and increased calls to crisis lines dedicated @ @ @ @ @ @ @ underscore the size of the unaddressed problem .

Even before the COVID-19 crisis, America’s infrastructure for mental-health and addiction services was fragmented, overburdened, and underfunded. The coronavirus has put far more stress on that broken system. So far, Congress has failed to shore it up. That oversight will prove harmful to patients and their families and costly to insurers and taxpayers. Mental-health disorders were already at the top of the list of the most costly conditions in American health care even before COVID-19.
The organizations that provide behavioral-health services face their greatest economic challenge in memory. As an online survey of 880 such organizations recently found, the pandemic is forcing practices to reduce services, provide care to patients without sufficient protective equipment, lay off and furlough employees, and risk closure within months. For people with serious mental illness who are trying to get treatment or access their medications, the doors of many community mental-health centers are closed. For those with both mental illness and COVID-19, including a large number who are homeless, no care is available, and they are at risk of exposing others.
Congress must do much more to help mental-health providers adapt.
Read: I was depressed before all of this. Now what?
First, lawmakers should provide explicit financial support for mental-health and addiction clinicians to provide meaningful, timely, and convenient care. Any enhanced funding to Medicaid programs or hospitals should explicitly include an allocation for mental-health resources, including prioritization for programs that integrate mental-health resources in emergency rooms and other hospital wards.
Second, the pandemic is a prime opportunity to rethink the American approach to mental-health care in its entirety—to adopt a new vision and create an integrated system of services that reaches into settings as varied as primary care, our schools, our prisons, our workplaces, and our homes. Such a system will require substantial investment.
Yet better mental-health services have not been a priority during the current pandemic. The CARES Act, the $2 trillion relief bill that flew through Congress, included a paltry $425 million for the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration. That investment is welcome, but it also underscores the dearth of official interest in this vital area. For reference, $425 million is less than 1 percent of the total amount invested in the airline industry and an even smaller fraction of the $185 billion dedicated to health-care providers as a whole. Crises offer policy makers a chance to take a fresh look at the nation’s problems. But Congress is failing to capitalize on the mental-health crisis in any meaningful way.
George Packer: We are living in a failed state
Recent data from the Kaiser Family Foundation illustrate the need for both a short- and long-term strategy for better mental- and behavioral-health care.
When asked if worry or stress related to the coronavirus had hurt their mental health, four in 10 in the Kaiser survey reported that worry or stress had led to sleep problems. Others reported that the coronavirus had caused them to experience a variety of health-related ills, such as frequent headaches or stomachaches and increased alcohol or drug use. If these problems are not addressed now, they may fester and worsen in the future.
The challenge is daunting—and not just for those who already face mental-health and substance-abuse issues and those at risk because of the changes in their life caused by the pandemic. The people crucial to fighting the coronavirus are vulnerable as well. Most telling in this latest round of survey data is the impact that COVID-19 is having on essential workers, including health-care personnel. Two-thirds of those surveyed who live in a home with a health-care worker reported that the worry or stress from the virus had caused them to experience at least one adverse effect on their mental health or well-being sometime over the past two months. Recent suicides and increased calls to crisis lines dedicated to health professionals and other essential workers underscore the size of the unaddressed problem.
That problem will not solve itself. And the longer the crisis continues, the greater the danger to Americans’ emotional well-being. “After infections begin ebbing, a secondary pandemic of mental-health problems will follow,” The Atlantic’s Ed Yong recently wrote. “At a moment of profound dread and uncertainty, people are being cut off from soothing human contact.”
Read: The pandemic could change how Americans view government
The coronavirus has laid bare the failings of American health care and public health. Without immediate action, it will do the same to America’s fragile mental-health system. Investment in that system will pay off, not just in terms of lives saved and bettered, but in monetary savings as well. The demands for money to ease economic, medical, and social problems will accelerate when the coronavirus pandemic ebbs. The United States cannot allow the needs of mental health to be pushed aside by other priorities. If that happens, the price we will pay as a society will be fearsome.


Zeynep Tufekci

Zeynep Tufekci is an associate professor at the University of North Carolina , and a faculty associate at the Harvard Berkman Klein Center for Internet and Society .
She studies the interaction between digital technology , artificial intelligence , and society .
• It sometimes takes decades to find out .
• Trump Is Doing All of This for Zuckerberg The new executive order targeting social-media companies isn ’ t really about Twitter .
• The online rage at Amy Cooper could prove to be a powerful deterrent .
• How Hong Kong Did It With the government flailing , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ organize their own coronavirus response .
• Much of the confusion around masks stems from the conflation of two very different uses .
• Public green spaces are good for the immune system and the mind—and they can be rationed to allow for social distancing .
• It Wasn ’ t Just Trump Who Got It Wrong America ’ s coronavirus response failed because we didn ’ t understand the complexity of the problem .
• China ’ s use of surveillance and censorship makes it harder for Xi Jinping to know what @ @ @ @ @ @ @ country .
• “ We might as well go down fighting.
” • Are China 's Tantrums Signs of Strength or Weakness ?
China is supposed to be savvy .
So why is it throwing a fit about a tweet , an app , and a gamer in a mask in the absence of any real threat ?
• The Media Needs to Stop Inspiring Copycat Murders .
Here 's How .
After a wave of teen suicides in the 1980s , news outlets began reporting on these deaths more cautiously .
Similar @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
• It 's just one factor in modern life that can increase connection in a world divided by the vagaries of capitalism , the disengagement of television , and the isolation of suburban sprawl .
• If We Built a Safer Nuclear Reactor , How Would We Know ?
The question is not whether nuclear power has downsides , which it clearly does , but how to evaluate its potential evolution

Zeynep Tufekci is a contributing writer at The Atlantic and an associate professor at the University of North Carolina. She studies the interaction between digital technology, artificial intelligence, and society.
Paul Spella / Getty / The Atlantic The Next Big Gasoline Shortage Is Coming If the pandemic has taught us anything, it’s that we cannot ignore the warning signs for future catastrophes.
Pablo Morano Xinhua / eyevine / Redux The CDC Is Still Repeating Its Mistakes The agency’s new guidelines are too timid and too complicated.
Lindsey Wasson / Reuters The Fourth Surge Is Upon Us. This Time, It’s Different. A deadlier and more transmissible variant has taken root, but now we have the tools to stop it if we want.
Sebastian Gollnow / Uwe Anspach / picture alliance … 3 Ways the Pandemic Has Made the World Better COVID-19 has inflicted devastating losses. It has also delivered certain blessings.
Alex Wong / Chet Strange/ Sarah Silbiger / … 5 Pandemic Mistakes We Keep Repeating We can learn from our failures.
The Atlantic It’s All Rigged What Robinhood and Facebook have in common
Anna Moneymaker / The New York Times / … Most House Republicans Did What the Rioters Wanted The most dangerous thing that happened Wednesday occurred after the mob dispersed.
Vincent Catala / Agence VU / Redux Why Aren’t We Wearing Better Masks? Cloth masks are better than nothing, but they were supposed to be a stopgap measure.
Shutterstock / The Atlantic This Isn’t Just Political Theater Trump’s threats aren’t performative—he’s pointing a loaded gun at democracy.
John Moore / Getty The Mutated Virus Is a Ticking Time Bomb There is much we don’t know about the new COVID-19 variant—but everything we know so far suggests a huge danger.
Emin Ozmen / Magnum Hang On for 3 More Months Some simple advice for anyone contemplating a holiday gathering: Wait until March.
Win McNamee / Getty ‘This Must Be Your First’ Acting as if Trump is trying to stage a coup is the best way to ensure he won’t.
John Moore / Getty It’s Time to Hunker Down A devastating surge is here. Unless Americans act aggressively, it will get much larger, very quickly.
Scott Olson / Getty America’s Next Authoritarian Will Be Much More Competent Trump was ineffective and easily beaten. A future strongman won’t be.
Getty / The Atlantic The Pandemic Is No Excuse to Surveil Students Trying to do so is all but useless.
Millennium Images / Gallery Stock We Need to Talk About Ventilation How is it that six months into a respiratory pandemic, we are still doing so little to mitigate airborne transmission?
Remko de Waal / Hollandse Hoogte / Redux The Tragic Loss of Coronavirus Patients’ Final Words It takes a special kind of inattention to human suffering to not notice how unfortunate it is that people have been left to face death alone.
Dan Kitwood / Getty Scolding Beachgoers Isn’t Helping People complain that going to the shore is a careless act during a pandemic, but the science so far suggests otherwise.


Olga Khazan

Olga Khazan is a staff writer at The Atlantic and the author of Weird : The Power of Being an Outsider in an Insider World .
In Baltimore and other segregated cities , the life-expectancy gap between African Americans and whites is as much as 20 years .
One young woman ’ s struggle shows why .
• The School Reopeners Think America Is Forgetting About Kids Some public-health experts say the costs of keeping schools closed outweigh the hazards of reopening them .
• The pandemic has sparked an interest in dubious cures such as colloidal silver—and some are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Suicides and overdoses among young adults were already skyrocketing before the pandemic started .
Now experts fear that the situation is going to get even worse .
• On who looters are , what they want , and why some protests are more likely to include them • We ’ ll Be Wearing Things on Our Faces for a Long Time You can choose between a mask and a face shield , but you can ’ t choose nothing .
• Pools Will Test the Limits of Social Distancing Yes , you ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ even when you ’ re in the water .
• Why Your Shrink Wasn ’ t Offering Virtual Therapy Until Now Did it need to take a pandemic to let us Zoom with our therapist in our PJs ?
• All over the United States , adults and children have been quarantined for weeks with people who hurt them .
• Work From Home Is Here to Stay The future of jobs after the pandemic is a blurry mix of work , life , pajamas , and Zoom .
• If the flu @ @ @ @ @ @ @ this fall , America might have a longer , more severe lockdown .
• How the Coronavirus Could Create a New Working Class Experts predict the outbreak will lead to a rise in populism .
But will workers turn their rage toward corporate CEOs , or middle-class “ elites ” ?
• Don ’ t Get Your Pet Groomed , Groomers Say Workers who clip dogs ’ nails and trim their fur say they still have to show up to their jobs , and they ’ re terrified for their health .
• @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Quarantine Big retailers have rolled out sick leave during the pandemic , but some workers describe a confusing process for getting paid .

She is the author of Weird: The Power of Being an Outsider in an Insider World . She has also written for The New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, The Washington Post, and other publications. She is a two-time recipient of the International Reporting Project’s journalism fellowship and the winner of the 2017 National Headliner Award for Magazine Online Writing.
Erin Schaff / The New York Times / … Why People Won’t Stop Moving to the Sun Belt Despite the heat, the region’s cities are growing fast. They have three factors to thank.
The Atlantic. Source: Getty. People Just Want to Lose Weight Americans go on yo-yo diets, but we also have a yo-yo relationship to dieting.
Dario Mitidieri / Getty Stop Firing Your Friends Just make more of them.
Adoc / Corbis / Getty; The Atlantic How to Forgive Ourselves for What We Can’t Change The things we can’t change often come back to haunt us. But our capacity to change the future may come from what we can’t change about the past.
Kirn Vintage Stock / Getty The Misgivings of Friend-Making The term social distance has come to characterize our times, with fewer chances to socialize and make friends. But for many, opportunities for friend-making and socialization have always been limited—veiled by the subjective rules of social inclusion.
Photograph by Bill McCullough for The Atlantic The Insurrectionist in the Flower Shop Jenny Cudd might regret storming the Capitol. But she’s still pushing election conspiracies.
Paulus Leeser / Ullstein / Getty / The … When Can a Marriage Be Saved? Knowing when to end a long-term relationship starts with knowing why things aren’t working.
Rudolf Dietrich / Ullstein / Getty / The … When Partnership Is Not the Destination In a society designed for romantic couples, singlehood can be seen as an unwelcome circumstance. For some, being single is not a matter of rebellion, but an irrefutable nature—worthy of its own social standing.
Getty / The Atlantic ‘Parents Are Not All Good and All Bad’ As family norms evolve from generation to generation, so do parent-child dynamics. Changing our relationship with the people who raised us requires not only action but a consideration of whether it’s even possible.
Jonathan Nguyen / Alamy; Susan Walsh / AP; … The Revolt Against Homelessness Michael Shellenberger is betting on the frustration of California voters—even though most experts disagree with the solutions he’s selling.
FPG / Hulton Archive / Getty Starting Over When You Think It’s Too Late Starting over can feel impossible when it involves a sunk cost—an investment with no returns. But when it comes to your career, is it ever too late to start over?
Bráulio Amado Introducing How to Start Over Your one-stop shop for navigating the challenges of changing your life
Patrick Smith / Getty You Were Right About COVID, and Then You Weren’t Understanding when to abandon beliefs and when to recommit to them can help us ride out this pandemic and prepare for the next one.
Oskar Poss / ullstein bild / Getty Republicans Have Sex Ed All Wrong Some pundits say that talking with little kids about sex and gender primes them to be taken advantage of. Sex-ed researchers say that the opposite is true.
Fototeca Gilardi / Getty; Paul Spella / The … A Yacht Owner’s Worst Nightmare Nabbing a billionaire’s large boat is more complicated than you might think.
Getty; The Atlantic Why People Are Acting So Weird Crime, “unruly passenger” incidents, and other types of strange behavior have all soared recently. Why?
Millennium Images / Gallery Stock What It’s Like to Get Worse at Something I had been skiing since childhood. Why was I suddenly bad at it?


Aaron E. Carroll

Aaron E. Carroll is a professor of pediatrics at Indiana University School of Medicine .
• If the country hopes @ @ @ @ @ regional lockdowns , the only solution is to build a comprehensive testing infrastructure .
• @ @ @ @ @ Distancing .
Instead , Do It Right .
There are two things the United States @ @ @ @ @ coronavirus .
• This Is How We Can Beat the Coronavirus Mitigation can buy us @ @ @ @ @ can get us to where we need to be .

Aaron E. Carroll is a professor of pediatrics and the chief health officer of Indiana University.
Kathryn Gamble / Bloomberg / Getty Stop Keeping Healthy Kids Home From School Policies that require contacts of those with COVID-19 to quarantine are doing a lot of harm for little benefit.
The Atlantic We Opened the Schools and ... It Was Fine Many parents feared the worst, but so far, no widespread COVID crisis has come to America’s classrooms.
Craig Golding / Fairfax Media / Getty; Katie … Many Parents Won’t Vaccinate Their Kids. Here’s Why. Even parents who are enthusiastic about the vaccines may not want their young children to be first in line.
Simone Noronha We’ve Never Protected the Vulnerable Let’s learn from the pandemic and protect those who need it most—and not just from COVID-19.
Brett Carlsen / The New York Times / … Go Ahead. Vaccinate the Kids. The risk of vaccinating children will never be zero, but the alternative is so much worse.
Tristan Spinski / The New York Times / … The Colleges That Took the Pandemic Seriously Many colleges and universities have figured out how to diagnose their populations and control outbreaks—and offer a vision for more normal life until the vaccine is available to all.
Lindsey Wasson / Reuters We Need 1 Million Tests a Week If the country hopes to end social distancing and regional lockdowns, the only solution is to build a comprehensive testing infrastructure.
Jeenah Moon / Reuters Don’t Halt Social Distancing. Instead, Do It Right. There are two things the United States must do to beat the coronavirus.


theatlantic--2020-03-31--Politics Daily: When COVID-19 Comes to Trump Country

But as the virus spills into more red states , Republican governors must figure out how to navigate his shifting moods .
( That hasn ’ t stopped the president from taking credit for any positive development and parroting false news of progress to his base . )
The federal government can only do so much to enforce national restrictions , even if an aggressive one would help slow the pandemic ’ s spread .
If the president wanted to enact a nationwide lockdown , akin to those in China , India and the UK , the way the federal @ @ @ @ @ @ @ able to do so .
On the economic front , drastic times call for drastic measures .
Rather than shipping out one-time $ 1,200 checks to save the economy , here ’ s one idea for the Federal Reserve to stave America off long-term economic disaster , Annie Lowrey writes : Throw money out of helicopters .
Really .
+ The president has promised a website devoted to coronavirus testing .
He said Google would help ; instead , it was built by Oscar Health , an insurance company closely tied to son-in-law @ @ @ @ @ @ @ some amount of political genius in the support the president has managed to maintain amid national calamity , Frida Ghitis argues : He ’ s somehow “ transmuting his calamitous failures into political gold.
” Here ’ s how .
+ Prisons are vulnerable environments for a pandemic .
The new coronavirus will be a nightmare for those who might ’ ve been wrongly convicted .
You can keep up with The Atlantic ’ s most crucial coronavirus coverage here .
Today ’ s newsletter was written by Kaila Philo , a Politics @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Wang , who oversees newsletters .
You can reply directly to this newsletter with questions or comments , or send a note to politicsdaily @ theatlantic.com .
Your support makes our journalism possible .
Subscribe here .

When the coronavirus pandemic comes to Trump country, politicization can only last so long. Plus: What’s the deal with Oscar Health and COVID-19 testing?
It’s Tuesday, March 31. Backlogs at private laboratories have ballooned, making it difficult to treat suffering patients and contain the pandemic. Read the latest from our science and technology reporters Alexis Madrigal and Robinson Meyer.
In the rest of today’s newsletter: When the coronavirus pandemic comes to Trump country, politicization can only last so long. Plus: What’s the deal with Oscar Health and COVID-19 testing?
*
« TODAY IN POLITICS »
(Patrick Semansk / AP)
Thus far, the coronavirus outbreak has ravaged blue states and Democratically-leaning cities more than red states and rural areas (though the illness is spreading quickly). President Trump has spoken about the pandemic through a highly partisan lens, and has expressed belief that state and local governments haven’t been happy enough with the administration’s help, my colleague Peter Nicholas, our White House correspondent, writes:
Trump, though, is sensitive to anything he sees as ingratitude. If his administration sends planeloads of ventilators—a national resource—he wants a thank you, not a complaint about why it didn’t come sooner.
But as the virus spills widely across more red states, more Republican governors must figure out how to navigate the White House’s shifting moods.
But as the virus spills into more red states, Republican governors must figure out how to navigate his shifting moods. (That hasn’t stopped the president from taking credit for any positive development and parroting false news of progress to his base.)
The federal government can only do so much to enforce national restrictions, even if an aggressive one would help slow the pandemic’s spread. If the president wanted to enact a nationwide lockdown, akin to those in China, India and the UK, the way the federal government is designed prevents him from being able to do so.
On the economic front, drastic times call for drastic measures. Rather than shipping out one-time $1,200 checks to save the economy, here’s one idea for the Federal Reserve to stave America off long-term economic disaster, Annie Lowrey writes: Throw money out of helicopters. Really.
—Kaila Philo
*
« THE CORONAVIRUS READER »
(Getty Images / The Atlantic)
+ The president has promised a website devoted to coronavirus testing. He said Google would help; instead, it was built by Oscar Health, an insurance company closely tied to son-in-law Jared Kushner.
+ There’s some amount of political genius in the support the president has managed to maintain amid national calamity, Frida Ghitis argues: He’s somehow “transmuting his calamitous failures into political gold.” Here’s how.
+ Prisons are vulnerable environments for a pandemic. The new coronavirus will be a nightmare for those who might’ve been wrongly convicted.
You can keep up with The Atlantic’s most crucial coronavirus coverage here.
*


James Fallows

Here ’ s another installment in the chronicle of people who are trying to take up the slack , while the national government flails rather than coping with a pandemic .
Previously in this series : innovations from libraries ; changes in a statewide program in California ; and responses from a nationwide nonprofit network .
( To update the California report : This week the state launched an expanded “ Californians for All ” campaign to enlist people of all ages in pandemic-era service projects .
You can read about the new project here , or watch a brief @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , here .
I will always be a California patriot , even though I don ’ t live there any more , but I think this video strikes a note people anywhere can respond to . )
How it started : Greg Behrman , who is now in his early 40s , was born in the U.S. a few years after his parents emigrated from South Africa .
He had what we might now describe as a “ Mayor Pete ” -like sequence of precocious achievements and successes .
After Scarsdale High School @ @ @ @ @ @ @ after graduating in 1998 he spent two years as an analyst at Goldman Sachs .
Then—and I am summarizing !
—he went to Oxford for a master ’ s degree ; wrote two well-received books for Simon and Schuster , one about the AIDS epidemic in South Africa and the other about the history of the Marshall Plan ; became a fellow at the Carr Center on Human Rights at Harvard ; and worked on the Policy Planning Staff at the State Department in the first two years of the Obama Administration .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ Reserves .
In 2011 , in his mid-30s , he spent a year in Afghanistan as a military staff assistant at ISAF—the International Security Assistance Force , during the times when generals David Petraeus and John Allen were in command .
This background is relevant both because Behrman seems to have a sense of humor about its nonstop-achievement plot line , and because he says that his years in the government and in uniform , and the year he spent in Afghanistan , shaped his idea of what he wanted to do next @ @ @ @ @ @ @ also affected , he told me , by awareness that his own father , a financier , had died suddenly of a heart attack at age 51 , and “ you only have so much time to make a contribution.
” ( I remembered that the first time I interviewed Bill Clinton , who was then in his early 30s as the “ boy governor ” of Arkansas , he mentioned his awareness that men in his family did not live very long , so he was always conscious of how fast the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ) “ During that year on deployment , I had a powerful experience , being part of a mission-driven team of very impressive people , who were all trying to do the right thing , ” Behrman told me .
That may sound formulaic , but I have heard similar sentiments from many people of Behrman ’ s generation about their military service—which despite its tragic and comic and frustrating and pointless elements , was based on the idea that people served .
As noted earlier , this was part of Josh Fryday @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to lead the California Volunteers project .
As Behrman put it , “ national service had become my core passion , and I thought I would like to be part of a mission-driven team whose mission was making our country better.
” When he came back from deployment , Behrman said , “ I was struck by the dissonance , of how we are barraged by the negativity , and all the screaming and naysaying that made people cynical and disengaged and angry.
” He said that he thought there was an opportunity @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the negativity and anger , and toward pragmatic problem-solving , and that we could create a platform to accelerate that process.
” The idea that virtues displayed in mankind ’ s most destructive activity—combat—could somehow be channeled into its peacetime pursuits is timeless .
It runs through the works of Homer and Shakespeare , Hamilton and Lincoln , and that most-central essay in American public life , William James ’ s 1910 masterpiece , “ The Moral Equivalent of War.
” I have heard many of Behrman ’ s contemporaries say that the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to the idea of service more general .
In Behrman ’ s case , it was the origin story of NationSwell , which he started in 2013 .
What it does : This new organization is a business rather than a non-profit or charity .
NationSwell is chartered as a “ B Corporation ” —a business structure in which the ultimate goal is not maximizing shareholder value but instead using market and profit incentives toward social , civic , and environmental goals .
( The B Corporation outlook is described here . )
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ lines of work for NationSwell .
Early on it began producing and publicizing stories in its “ Moving America Forward ” series , about people and organizations that were making progress on the local or statewide level .
It has a NationSwell studio , which consults on and develops campaigns for companies and organizations .
And its NationSwell Council is a membership-fee organization of successful , upper-tier people who are looking for a way to be involved in civic efforts in their region or beyond .
What they pay NationSwell for is organizing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ projects in which members can feel they are doing something worthwhile .
The vision for the Council ’ s benefits is a free-form counterpart to the FUSE Corps model I discussed previously .
FUSE dispatches mid-career professionals or executives for structured one- or two-year projects in local governments .
NationSwell matches its members with individuals , organizations , or communities on a fluid , case-by-case basis .
You can get an idea of the range of their projects from the main NationSwell site .
Behrman ran through a long list with me , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ One council member who had been a very successful serial-entrepreneur started work with a job-training organization in a low-income community in California .
“ The model they developed required that once people from the community get new jobs , they come back to the community and coach the next cohort , ” Behrman says .
The benefit , he said , was not only the training and job-placement itself , but also increasing “ the social capital that people from advantaged parts of the country take for granted , the idea that you @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to draw from.
” Berhman said that there are about 1,000 of the Council members , at nine hubs around the country .
“ We have been extremely careful in intentionally building the connective tissues and sinews of a tight-knit and high-functioning community , ” he said .
His members are senior-level business executives , entrepreneurs , philanthropists , venture capital and private equity investors , public or NGO officials , and educators .
“ In the early days , we spent a lot of time asking ourselves , ‘ Who is the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ Is this the place financial investors meet social sector leaders ?
Is it for the leaders in their late 30s and 40s , who share a generational orientation and sensibility ? ''
He said he came to embrace the idea that it would be a wide and shifting variety of people .
“ The dynamic young activist .
The journalist from [ a major newspaper ] .
The start-up founder .
A mayor .
The financial or business executive looking to be of service .
We realized there was strength in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ several NationSwell meetings , and after each I ’ ve come away with a list of names , contacts , and projects reflecting the range of backgrounds and skills that Behrman described .
Why people serve : In a previous dispatch , I mentioned that my wife Deb ’ s parents , Frank and Angie Zerad , whose own parents had arrived in Chicago as Czech immigrants , spent their early career running a “ normal ” small business in the Midwest .
Then life changed , and they found new fulfillment through @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in Asia and Africa , with the International Executive Service Corps .
Again I thought of that parallel when Greg Behrman said that many of his members had day-jobs as financiers or in big corporations but , in his view , were looking to make a mark in other ways .
“ There is a lot of force behind the fraying of America now , ” he said .
“ But at the same time , I think there is a profound thirst to be part of the knitting of America .
While @ @ @ @ @ @ @ forces in the other direction , I have observed the power and meaning that people derive from human connections , from community , from being of service.
” While many people had the latent impulse to connect , he said , many had lost the habit , or didn ’ t know in practical terms what to do next .
That organizational structure is what he hoped his members could help provide .
What is happening now : Like most businesses and nearly all civic organization , NationSwell is simultaneously trying to figure @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and how to adapt its operations to the crisis of the times .
Behrman gave examples of pandemic-driven adjustments .
Most of them reflected its logic that , in times of stress , connections are all the more valuable : Connections between those who need help , and those willing to provide it .
Or connections between those grappling with a problem in one part of the country , and those who have already made progress against the same problem else .
Behrman ’ s examples , in an email , included : @ @ @ @ @ @ @ give [ members ] exposure to best practices and approaches , so they can be as impactful as possible .
For example , one leading philanthropy decided to make all of its grants unrestricted during this time after hearing about that practice from another leader ; one leading company decided to put in place a policy of matching individual employee charitable contributions … after hearing about that action from another leader.
” • “ We ’ re helping to broker new and sometimes unlikely partnerships , breaking down silos and barriers .
For @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the C-19 Coalition , so they could donate 35,000 face masks to the health facility that most needed them ; we exposed a prominent philanthropy to The National Governor ’ s Association Center for Best Practices … leading to a $ 150K contribution ; we connected one investment firm with City Harvest , and employees have donated $ 50K and growing ; we connected two companies who would be unlikely bedfellows ... one that is converting some of its manufacturing capacity to produce hand-sanitizer , but lacked plastic bottles , with another company @ @ @ @ @ @ @ bottles due to lower demand on that product ... ” • “ We see the leaders who are participating … [ and who ] learn , explore , co-envision and pressure test together .
I think this knitting together and the access and exposure , visibility , orientation and confidence that comes from operating as part of a larger community is also meaningful.
” Are these efforts or other NationSwell projects “ the ” answer to America ’ s problems ?
Of course not .
Have all of these projects panned out as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ get out to see anything these days , I haven ’ t been able to go see for myself .
But here we have another illustration of organizations trying to be part of an answer for America , and of the resilient capacity of citizens in the absence of national leadership .
More from this series

In a culture devoid of moral education, generations are growing up in a morally inarticulate, self-referential world.
This article was featured in One Story to Read Today, a newsletter in which our editors recommend a single must-read from The Atlantic, Monday through Friday. Sign up for it here.
Over the past eight years or so, I’ve been obsessed with two questions. The first is: Why have Americans become so sad? The rising rates of depression have been well publicized, as have the rising deaths of despair from drugs, alcohol, and suicide. But other statistics are similarly troubling. The percentage of people who say they don’t have close friends has increased fourfold since 1990. The share of Americans ages 25 to 54 who weren’t married or living with a romantic partner went up to 38 percent in 2019, from 29 percent in 1990. A record-high 25 percent of 40-year-old Americans have never married. More than half of all Americans say that no one knows them well. The percentage of high-school students who report “persistent feelings of sadness or hopelessness” shot up from 26 percent in 2009 to 44 percent in 2021.


theatlantic--2020-05-06--I’m Risking My Life to Bring You Ramen

I’m Risking My Life to Bring You Ramen

Images above , from left : Darnell Young and his skateboard ; Indigo , a popular restaurant in the H Street corridor of Washington , D.C. ; Tymeer Roberts delivering meals on his scooter When the coronavirus arrived in Washington , D.C. , and Homeland Security named me an “ essential critical infrastructure worker , ” free to work as others sheltered in place , I felt like a wallflower at a party suddenly beckoned to the dance floor .
I nearly glanced right and left—no other girls there—and put a hand to my bosom .
Me ?
I doubt @ @ @ @ @ @ @ critical or essential to anyone not immediately waiting on a meal I was delivering .
Lurking at restaurants until my app dings and offers me a job , then dodging in and out of traffic on my bicycle , I normally drift between invisible and pain in the ass .
But here we are .
I ’ d been sitting out the last few winter weeks , looking forward to riding in warm weather .
It arrived on the second day of spring , 71 degrees and balmy , when the coronavirus claimed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I suited up for my evening rounds .
Leggings in a light-colored print that would flash in headlights , layers of tops , a windbreaker .
My backpack : a peasant basket I ’ d bought in Laos , with an insulated delivery bag inside .
I ’ ve dotted the basket with reflective tape .
There are people who deliver in cars , and then there are the rest of us on everything else .
My bicycle is a 1980s Bridgestone that a friend gave me in New Orleans ; a woman @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on her car .
Someone stole it , but months later I spotted it on Frenchmen Street and got it back .
Bike enthusiasts walk up to me to say the Bridgestone is a museum piece .
I thought it was badass until I saw another courier , a young fellow a head taller than me , inside a Thai restaurant with a skateboard under his arm .
“ Do you blow people ’ s minds when you show up on that ?
” I asked .
I added Purell and nitrile gloves @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the early days , when we met the pandemic with a pioneer spirit .
The coronavirus was terrifying , but fear was a novelty then , and we felt a sense of possibility and adventure .
We stocked up on dried beans , and our aunts sewed masks .
I met a cluster of my fellow Molly Pitchers outside an Italian place , where we waited 45 minutes for the food .
That kind of wait trashes a night ’ s earnings , but we comforted ourselves that our apps were stacking on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ getting enough people on the road .
A guy with a slight Caribbean accent had been driving for both Uber and Lyft but switched to food deliveries when the virus arrived and he didn ’ t get passengers .
Another guy had worked in a Georgetown restaurant , and when it closed he bought a $ 700 electric bike for delivering ; this was his second day .
A guy with a wounded affect had driven for Instacart in the morning and switched to deliveries at night .
He wanted to start a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ swapped tips on getting out of debt .
The scene at the restaurant was confusing—the staff had set up a table inside for checking in , but a socially distanced crowd of customers waited outside for the orders they ’ d placed .
They chided each of us as we went in , thinking we ’ d cut the line .
When one of us , trying to be helpful , said that they could check in too , a man in the crowd refused , yelling , “ There ’ s a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ critical workers shook our heads .
Every night in the coronavirus era has its mood .
If that first Friday was one of prophylactics and camaraderie , Saturday was haunted .
Looking out at the crowd , I remembered texts from my brother , who ’ d begun beseeching me in January to prepare for the coronavirus , sending lists of things to purchase .
I found this entertaining ; I have since bought everything but the firearm .
The apocalypse my brother has been waiting for all his life , in which @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s stash of lentils and iodized salt , had always seemed ridiculous … Outside a pan-Asian joint that sells Cambodian street food and $ 28 five-spice fried chicken , another deliverer , in waist-length braids and latex gloves , backed away from me .
He stood by a Dodge Ram with his landscaping-company decal on the door .
He ’ d been out since morning , watching Netflix in the cab while waiting for assignments , and had made $ 75 so far .
He ’ d gone through a few dozen pairs @ @ @ @ @ @ @ source in Maryland .
It was a spooked and cheerful night .
We weren ’ t making many deliveries , but we were getting bonuses .
Customers thanked me as if I ’ d done something special for them , even the ones who requested “ no-contact deliveries ” and waited behind a door while I left their goods outside .
They tipped the kind of fat tips that you normally get only from people with sleeve tattoos , a sliver demographic on Capitol Hill .
I became a bicycle courier after returning @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in 2018 .
When I got back my funds were so low that when I splurged on celery I ate it all , even the leaves and the base .
It would be a while before I got paid for the story , but I was counting on a high-paying gig facilitating grant reviews for government agencies , which I ’ d had each spring .
News that it had been pushed to late summer came like a punch in the face .
I had $ 1.77 in the bank when I got @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
I remember opening the box of stuff I bought from Amazon , things I ’ d needed for ages .
I pulled out a sack of dog-poop bags and stared at it grimly .
“ The fruits of my labors , ” I muttered to my dog .
Every night in the coronavirus era has its mood .
If that first Friday was one of prophylactics and camaraderie , Saturday was haunted .
The weather was cold and the streets were empty .
You could do U‑ies in the middle of Chinatown @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Mall was locked ; you had to call them , and a security guard would come out and hand off an order , reading each item on the ticket like a newbie .
Calvin Baker : How American racism is highlighted by the pandemic Outside Indigo , an Indian place with a funky international-backpacker vibe , the streetlight revealed an intergalactic helmet and a fat-tired scooter with a seat on a post .
Tymeer recognized my basket .
When we ’ d met months before , his battery wasn ’ t lasting the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ deliveries carrying the scooter onto the free streetcar in the area and walking the rest of the way to homes .
People had stopped to admire his ride , and then he gathered his ramen in one hand and with the other led the hobbled , magnificent scooter away .
He ’ d since bought two new batteries , he told me .
The old one had caught fire .
He pulled up a video of it burning .
On his cheekbones , steel piercings embedded in his skin twinkled like stars .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ too many of us with bonuses .
I got one delivery in two hours .
Normally , I could pass time sitting outside Whole Foods , but all the tables had been removed .
Before the coronavirus , I could use the bathroom in restaurants , refill my water bottle .
But no more .
• The Gig Economy Has Never Been Tested by a Pandemic Monday I got two orders in three hours and made $ 16.58 .
I ’ d filled a small spray bottle with diluted bleach and entertained myself @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Malaise had already settled in , along with the realization that COVID‑19 was going to be long and slow , and that we might lose our homes and dreams and even people we love , but our small , dull problems weren ’ t going anywhere .
Maybe that last part is just me , but I don ’ t think so .
I dawdled at Indigo .
It is beloved in D.C. , always packed , and the takeout station is a well-oiled machine .
Nidhi , who owns the place with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the kitchen .
She said 22 people work at the restaurant .
They ’ d cut shifts but had managed to keep everyone on the payroll .
Two people stood outside waiting on orders , and me .
Farmbird was so quiet , I was greeted like an old friend .
Someone I ’ d never spoken to came from the back to say hello .
Last spring a New York Times reporter spent a few days as a bicycle delivery person and wrote about it .
He got it all in there—the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the other end of town , the lousy tippers , the apps ’ cat-and-mouse with bonuses , the bad pay .
But what is the alternative ?
It would be one thing if riders had a choice between delivering meals and working at The New York Times .
And those dwindling manufacturing jobs that nonprofessional workers are supposed to want ?
A lot don ’ t .
Some of us weren ’ t meant to be employed , and we ’ ll work twice as hard at our own hustles to avoid punching @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the job can be hard as hell .
I don ’ t depend on it now , but the year I lived off deliveries turned me into an athlete , which is unbecoming after a certain age .
It ’ s nothing to retire on .
When I started riding , I would have been destroyed by a bike repair that cost more than a few dollars , let alone a broken bone .
I once crashed my bike on ice outside a restaurant while trying to make rent .
I ’ ve @ @ @ @ @ @ @ cool-weather riding ever since the soles of my waterproof moccasins slipped—I hadn ’ t heeded the online reviews before purchasing—and I fell down half a flight of stairs at a ramen place .
It wasn ’ t one of those falls where you spring up and look to see if anyone saw it .
I knew everyone had .
And now there is the virus .
A couple of weeks into the pandemic , I ran into the kid with the skateboard .
His grandmother lives a block away from me .
Darnell—Nell—is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ face , with brows pulled down at the outer corners and a slight underbite , but his nature is sweet , that of someone who brings medications to his grandmother in the afternoon .
He thought the idea that we ’ re “ essential critical infrastructure workers ” was B.S.— “ they just need someone to bring them their food ” —but felt lucky to have work , and this work in particular .
“ A 9-to-5 would have you in an office , in a kitchen .
It ’ s so beautiful @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that the apps he rides for had bumped up pay , but he wasn ’ t counting on the new compensation policies they ’ d promised to cover illness .
He ’ d seen the virus coming and put money away , and he ’ d changed up his routine .
“ I ’ m barely moving my hands from this vicinity ” —he demarcated a space in front of his torso .
“ I don ’ t touch my hood !
When I ’ m done delivering , everything I have on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ delivery bag .
Every .
Day.
” When he found himself wiping down the door handle at a condo building with disinfectant , he worried he ’ d gotten obsessive— “ people are losing themselves to being scared.
” He ’ s double-shampooing his hair now .
He pulled a long strand from under his Raiders hoodie , which was enormous over his braids .
This article appears in the June 2020 print edition with the headline “ How I Became Essential .
”

Images above, from left: Darnell Young and his skateboard; Indigo, a popular restaurant in the H Street corridor of Washington, D.C.; Tymeer Roberts delivering meals on his scooter
When the coronavirus arrived in Washington, D.C., and Homeland Security named me an “essential critical infrastructure worker,” free to work as others sheltered in place, I felt like a wallflower at a party suddenly beckoned to the dance floor. I nearly glanced right and left—no other girls there—and put a hand to my bosom. Me?
I doubt I’ve ever before been considered critical or essential to anyone not immediately waiting on a meal I was delivering. Lurking at restaurants until my app dings and offers me a job, then dodging in and out of traffic on my bicycle, I normally drift between invisible and pain in the ass. But here we are.
I’d been sitting out the last few winter weeks, looking forward to riding in warm weather. It arrived on the second day of spring, 71 degrees and balmy, when the coronavirus claimed its first victim in the city.
I suited up for my evening rounds. Leggings in a light-colored print that would flash in headlights, layers of tops, a windbreaker. My backpack: a peasant basket I’d bought in Laos, with an insulated delivery bag inside. I’ve dotted the basket with reflective tape.
There are people who deliver in cars, and then there are the rest of us on everything else. My bicycle is a 1980s Bridgestone that a friend gave me in New Orleans; a woman had traded it to him for work on her car. Someone stole it, but months later I spotted it on Frenchmen Street and got it back. Bike enthusiasts walk up to me to say the Bridgestone is a museum piece. I thought it was badass until I saw another courier, a young fellow a head taller than me, inside a Thai restaurant with a skateboard under his arm.
“Do you blow people’s minds when you show up on that?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
I added Purell and nitrile gloves to my gear check. Those were the early days, when we met the pandemic with a pioneer spirit. The coronavirus was terrifying, but fear was a novelty then, and we felt a sense of possibility and adventure. We stocked up on dried beans, and our aunts sewed masks.
I met a cluster of my fellow Molly Pitchers outside an Italian place, where we waited 45 minutes for the food. That kind of wait trashes a night’s earnings, but we comforted ourselves that our apps were stacking on bonuses, clearly having a hard time getting enough people on the road.
Read: Homeless during the coronavirus
A guy with a slight Caribbean accent had been driving for both Uber and Lyft but switched to food deliveries when the virus arrived and he didn’t get passengers. Another guy had worked in a Georgetown restaurant, and when it closed he bought a $700 electric bike for delivering; this was his second day. A guy with a wounded affect had driven for Instacart in the morning and switched to deliveries at night. He wanted to start a side hustle giving financial advice. We swapped tips on getting out of debt.
The scene at the restaurant was confusing—the staff had set up a table inside for checking in, but a socially distanced crowd of customers waited outside for the orders they’d placed. They chided each of us as we went in, thinking we’d cut the line. When one of us, trying to be helpful, said that they could check in too, a man in the crowd refused, yelling, “There’s a global pandemic!” We essential and critical workers shook our heads.
Every night in the coronavirus era has its mood. If that first Friday was one of prophylactics and camaraderie, Saturday was haunted.
Looking out at the crowd, I remembered texts from my brother, who’d begun beseeching me in January to prepare for the coronavirus, sending lists of things to purchase. I found this entertaining; I have since bought everything but the firearm. The apocalypse my brother has been waiting for all his life, in which one is called to defend one’s stash of lentils and iodized salt, had always seemed ridiculous …
Outside a pan-Asian joint that sells Cambodian street food and $28 five-spice fried chicken, another deliverer, in waist-length braids and latex gloves, backed away from me. He stood by a Dodge Ram with his landscaping-company decal on the door. He’d been out since morning, watching Netflix in the cab while waiting for assignments, and had made $75 so far. He’d gone through a few dozen pairs of gloves; he had a secret source in Maryland.
It was a spooked and cheerful night. We weren’t making many deliveries, but we were getting bonuses. Customers thanked me as if I’d done something special for them, even the ones who requested “no-contact deliveries” and waited behind a door while I left their goods outside. They tipped the kind of fat tips that you normally get only from people with sleeve tattoos, a sliver demographic on Capitol Hill.
I became a bicycle courier after returning from a month-long reporting trip to Mexico in 2018. When I got back my funds were so low that when I splurged on celery I ate it all, even the leaves and the base. It would be a while before I got paid for the story, but I was counting on a high-paying gig facilitating grant reviews for government agencies, which I’d had each spring. News that it had been pushed to late summer came like a punch in the face.
I had $1.77 in the bank when I got my first weekly payout from the app. I remember opening the box of stuff I bought from Amazon, things I’d needed for ages. I pulled out a sack of dog-poop bags and stared at it grimly. “The fruits of my labors,” I muttered to my dog.
Derek Thompson: The coronavirus will be a catastrophe for the poor
My evening rounds became the happiest part of my day. When the weather isn’t horrible, I love riding, and the sheer goofiness of my mission delighted me. I was my favorite fictional character, the fat medievalist Ignatius J. Reilly, pushing around his hot-dog cart and musing about his downward spin on Fortuna’s wheel. Between deliveries I tooled around backstreets, practicing languages with an app, listening to audiobooks, and peering into boxes of free stuff that D.C. folks leave out. One night I came across a box of beautiful dresses, size extra-small. I threw them in my basket, and zoomed them over to the petite staff at the Thai place.
The author’s bicycle (Jared Soares)
Every night in the coronavirus era has its mood. If that first Friday was one of prophylactics and camaraderie, Saturday was haunted. The weather was cold and the streets were empty. You could do U‑ies in the middle of Chinatown.
An upscale pub near the National Mall was locked; you had to call them, and a security guard would come out and hand off an order, reading each item on the ticket like a newbie.
Calvin Baker: How American racism is highlighted by the pandemic
Outside Indigo, an Indian place with a funky international-backpacker vibe, the streetlight revealed an intergalactic helmet and a fat-tired scooter with a seat on a post.
Tymeer recognized my basket. When we’d met months before, his battery wasn’t lasting the night, so he did his final deliveries carrying the scooter onto the free streetcar in the area and walking the rest of the way to homes. People had stopped to admire his ride, and then he gathered his ramen in one hand and with the other led the hobbled, magnificent scooter away.
He’d since bought two new batteries, he told me. The old one had caught fire. He pulled up a video of it burning.
On his cheekbones, steel piercings embedded in his skin twinkled like stars.
On Sunday, my app lured in too many of us with bonuses. I got one delivery in two hours. Normally, I could pass time sitting outside Whole Foods, but all the tables had been removed. Before the coronavirus, I could use the bathroom in restaurants, refill my water bottle. But no more.
Monday I got two orders in three hours and made $16.58. I’d filled a small spray bottle with diluted bleach and entertained myself by spraying down restaurants’ doorknobs. Malaise had already settled in, along with the realization that COVID‑19 was going to be long and slow, and that we might lose our homes and dreams and even people we love, but our small, dull problems weren’t going anywhere. Maybe that last part is just me, but I don’t think so.
I dawdled at Indigo. It is beloved in D.C., always packed, and the takeout station is a well-oiled machine. Nidhi, who owns the place with her husband, Dinesh, was in the kitchen. She said 22 people work at the restaurant. They’d cut shifts but had managed to keep everyone on the payroll. Two people stood outside waiting on orders, and me.
Farmbird was so quiet, I was greeted like an old friend. Someone I’d never spoken to came from the back to say hello.
Last spring a New York Times reporter spent a few days as a bicycle delivery person and wrote about it. He got it all in there—the blind rides that spit you out on the other end of town, the lousy tippers, the apps’ cat-and-mouse with bonuses, the bad pay.
But what is the alternative? It would be one thing if riders had a choice between delivering meals and working at The New York Times. And those dwindling manufacturing jobs that nonprofessional workers are supposed to want? A lot don’t. Some of us weren’t meant to be employed, and we’ll work twice as hard at our own hustles to avoid punching a clock.
It’s true the job can be hard as hell. I don’t depend on it now, but the year I lived off deliveries turned me into an athlete, which is unbecoming after a certain age. It’s nothing to retire on.
When I started riding, I would have been destroyed by a bike repair that cost more than a few dollars, let alone a broken bone.
I once crashed my bike on ice outside a restaurant while trying to make rent. I’ve favored my Dr. Martens Mary Janes for cool-weather riding ever since the soles of my waterproof moccasins slipped—I hadn’t heeded the online reviews before purchasing—and I fell down half a flight of stairs at a ramen place. It wasn’t one of those falls where you spring up and look to see if anyone saw it. I knew everyone had.
And now there is the virus.
A couple of weeks into the pandemic, I ran into the kid with the skateboard. His grandmother lives a block away from me. Darnell—Nell—is 24 and has a fighter’s face, with brows pulled down at the outer corners and a slight underbite, but his nature is sweet, that of someone who brings medications to his grandmother in the afternoon.
He thought the idea that we’re “essential critical infrastructure workers” was B.S.—“they just need someone to bring them their food”—but felt lucky to have work, and this work in particular. “A 9-to-5 would have you in an office, in a kitchen. It’s so beautiful to have your freedom.”
He appreciated that the apps he rides for had bumped up pay, but he wasn’t counting on the new compensation policies they’d promised to cover illness. He’d seen the virus coming and put money away, and he’d changed up his routine.
“I’m barely moving my hands from this vicinity”—he demarcated a space in front of his torso. “I don’t touch my hood! When I’m done delivering, everything I have on is washed. I clean out my delivery bag. Every. Day.” When he found himself wiping down the door handle at a condo building with disinfectant, he worried he’d gotten obsessive—“people are losing themselves to being scared.”
He’s double-shampooing his hair now. He pulled a long strand from under his Raiders hoodie, which was enormous over his braids.


theatlantic--2020-05-06--We’re Discovering Our Character

We’re Discovering Our Character

There is much talk about the impact of the coronavirus on electoral politics , on America ’ s position in the world , on higher education , and on large swaths of small businesses .
All of those are , in their different ways , important .
Some of them can be evaluated systematically .
But none is so important as the virus ’ s impact on our character .
Read : Why the coronavirus is so confusing There is a social science of measuring happiness , which reminds one of the words G. K. Chesterton put in Father Brown @ @ @ @ @ @ @ detectors : “ What sentimentalists men of science are !
And how much more sentimental must American men of science be !
Who but a Yankee would think of proving anything from heart-throbs ?
” There are not , and can not be , quantitative measures of character , but what Sam understood was that in the end , character dominated all else .
Today the biggest , probably the most important , and almost by definition the least answerable question is what the coronavirus will do to our character .
Anecdote and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ prove Sam right .
There is immense human misery : We read about or know directly some of those who have died or who keen over loved ones who are dead or dying ; those who suffer illness and isolation ; those whose livelihoods have vanished overnight , or who feel the claustrophobic pressures of isolation taking them beyond the reach of sanity .
But for the most part , what is striking is the decency and fortitude of average citizens , their willingness to comply with onerous and suffocating restrictions , their @ @ @ @ @ @ @ has been troubling for a long time that healthy 21-year-olds who happen to be in the armed forces get boarding priority over grandmothers in their late 60s .
This is a misguided tribute to courage and self-sacrifice—misguided because that 21-year-old may have experienced no combat whatsoever .
Now , however , we have a more thoughtful understanding of heroism .
We know that it is also embodied in the nurse and the doctor , the police officer and the firefighter , the taxi driver and the grocery clerk , the neighbor who goes @ @ @ @ @ @ @ short , we see the heroism that is often latent in everyday life , and—the precious thing—we appreciate and celebrate it .
The United States has the misfortune of being led by a man utterly devoid of character , a razboynik , as Sam , with a curl of the lip , would have termed him—a man who can whine about journalists while seated at the feet of Abraham Lincoln ’ s statue , disclaim responsibility for anything and everything , bully and abuse subordinates who are infinitely more valuable to public health @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , and generally disgrace himself and his country with his antics .
But that only calls into higher relief the virtues of all the others—the mayors and the governors , the public-health officials and the ambulance drivers , the home manufacturers of masks and ventilators and , yes , the billionaire philanthropists .

Foon tsuris wird man a mensch was one of my grandpa Sam’s favorite proverbs. It means, roughly, that tough times turn a person from being just anybody into being, well, a mensch. That proverb speaks to our COVID-19 world.
Sam knew tsuris reasonably well. He did not experience the worst that the previous century had to offer his people, but he experienced enough. He grew up in a shtetl in the Pale of Settlement at the end of the 19th century, without much of a formal education. He swam a river one night to escape the border guards (so family lore insists), and got a ticket in steerage from Hamburg to the United States. He had no English, no money, and no skills that would be useful here. He tried his hand at chicken farming, but, as he often said, one day he went out to look at the chickens, and they were all on their backs with their feet in the air. He became a leather cutter in a shoe factory. He ended up owning the shoe factory, and had a long and comfortable retirement in a suburb of Boston.
He lived through pogroms, World War I, the influenza epidemic, the Great Depression, World War II (to which he sent two sons off in uniform), Korea and Vietnam, the civil strife of the 1960s, and much else besides, including family tragedy. But he was a mensch—generous, upright, and principled, even if those principles required sacrifice. He nursed his wife through many years of inability to function, and died as he lived, standing tall, at age 96.
There is much talk about the impact of the coronavirus on electoral politics, on America’s position in the world, on higher education, and on large swaths of small businesses. All of those are, in their different ways, important. Some of them can be evaluated systematically. But none is so important as the virus’s impact on our character.
Read: Why the coronavirus is so confusing
There is a social science of measuring happiness, which reminds one of the words G. K. Chesterton put in Father Brown’s mouth about the early lie detectors: “What sentimentalists men of science are! And how much more sentimental must American men of science be! Who but a Yankee would think of proving anything from heart-throbs?” There are not, and cannot be, quantitative measures of character, but what Sam understood was that in the end, character dominated all else. Today the biggest, probably the most important, and almost by definition the least answerable question is what the coronavirus will do to our character.
Anecdote and impression would suggest that the coronavirus may prove Sam right. There is immense human misery: We read about or know directly some of those who have died or who keen over loved ones who are dead or dying; those who suffer illness and isolation; those whose livelihoods have vanished overnight, or who feel the claustrophobic pressures of isolation taking them beyond the reach of sanity. But for the most part, what is striking is the decency and fortitude of average citizens, their willingness to comply with onerous and suffocating restrictions, their willingness to help one another.
It has been troubling for a long time that healthy 21-year-olds who happen to be in the armed forces get boarding priority over grandmothers in their late 60s. This is a misguided tribute to courage and self-sacrifice—misguided because that 21-year-old may have experienced no combat whatsoever. Now, however, we have a more thoughtful understanding of heroism. We know that it is also embodied in the nurse and the doctor, the police officer and the firefighter, the taxi driver and the grocery clerk, the neighbor who goes shopping for an elderly shut-in. In short, we see the heroism that is often latent in everyday life, and—the precious thing—we appreciate and celebrate it.
The United States has the misfortune of being led by a man utterly devoid of character, a razboynik, as Sam, with a curl of the lip, would have termed him—a man who can whine about journalists while seated at the feet of Abraham Lincoln’s statue, disclaim responsibility for anything and everything, bully and abuse subordinates who are infinitely more valuable to public health than he, muse about injecting bleach, and generally disgrace himself and his country with his antics. But that only calls into higher relief the virtues of all the others—the mayors and the governors, the public-health officials and the ambulance drivers, the home manufacturers of masks and ventilators and, yes, the billionaire philanthropists.
Peter Wehner: The president is unraveling
It is by now a cliché that the post-COVID-19 world will be different. Unquestionably so. This difference will encompass not just the impact of lives snuffed out or irreparably marred, jobs lost, companies bankrupted, and an economy twisted out of shape. It will encompass how we think about ourselves and our world.
One great seduction of modern times is the notion that human beings can control their environment and their destinies. This belief has manifested itself in many ways. Economists in the 1960s figured that they had discovered the secret of perpetual full production at limited unemployment rates; our legal system implicitly says that when an accident happens, it is somebody’s fault rather than, well, an accident. Clever social scientists come up with ways to “nudge” people into behavior that they are certain is good for them. Predictive analytics, large data sets, and clever algorithms promise to be able to anticipate human desires and behaviors, and even control them. And in some measure they do, until disaster strikes.
At that point, the world changes. Human beings recognize that they are small, the universe is vast, and they are not in charge. Their own machines, connected with one another in unpredictable ways, yield flash crashes of the stock market; their quest for prosperity unleashes climatic changes that almost seem vindictive in their destructiveness. Their cities flood. And suddenly they find that the emergency rooms are jammed with a disease emanating from a bat half a world away.
Alan Lightman: The virus is a reminder of something lost long ago
Generations long past, and the ancient Hebrews and Greeks in particular, understood very well the limits of human control of individual and collective destiny, and accepted them. Which is why so much of their writing and thought returned to the question of character—not because it protected them from life’s vicissitudes, but because it allowed them to survive them with head held high, with personality and integrity intact, no matter how great the suffering. Sam, the product of one of those civilizational streams, understood this intuitively. In the face of the coronavirus, many more may be figuring that out too—and therein lies hope.


Julia Marcus

Julia Marcus is an epidemiologist and assistant professor at Harvard Medical School and Harvard Pilgrim Health Care Institute .
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Julia Marcus is an epidemiologist and associate professor at Harvard Medical School and Harvard Pilgrim Health Care Institute.
Yonatan Sindel / Flash90 / Redux Vaccinated People Are Going to Hug Each Other The vaccines are phenomenal. Belaboring their imperfections—and telling people who receive them never to let down their guard—carries its own risks.
Francine Orr/ Los Angeles Times / Getty The Danger of Assuming That Family Time Is Dispensable Americans who are desperate to see their loved ones need advice that goes beyond “Just say no.”
Getty / The Atlantic The Fun Police Should Stand Down Social gatherings provoke moral indignation—but bringing in law enforcement will promote injustice, not reduce infections.
Getty / The Atlantic Colleges Are Getting Ready to Blame Their Students As campuses reopen without adequate testing, universities fault young people for a lack of personal responsibility.
The Atlantic The Dudes Who Won’t Wear Masks Face coverings are a powerful tool, but health authorities can’t simply ignore the reasons some people refuse to use them.
Phil NIJHUIS / ANP / AFP / Getty Public-Health Experts Are Not Hypocrites Health is about more than simply remaining free of coronavirus infection.
Gabby Jones / Redux Americans Aren’t Getting the Advice They Need As people start reopening their lives, they’re hearing little practical guidance about the dilemmas they encounter.