Muddling through

It was a fleeting yet revealing glimpse behind the curtain, to the frail human being contorted by overwhelming pressure and disoriented by the swirling winds that obscure a clear and decisive way forward. During a COVID-19 briefing last week, Premier Doug Ford was being pelted with questions on the rationale of his government’s decision to effectively close small retail stores in Toronto while allowing big box stores—selling the same items—to remain open. For several days independent business owners and their advocates loudly questioned the fairness of shuttering them in the crucial weeks before Christmas.

“I know it isn’t fair,” said Ford in response. “One hundred per cent, it’s not fair.”

The premier went on to vent his frustration with economic experts keen to give him public healthcare advice, while public health specialists were equally eager to dispense economic advice. It was indeed a more honest comment than he had intended when he walked up to the microphone.

For a few seconds, the provincial leader’s operating method came into sharp focus— he was making it up as he went along. We caught sight of a frightened, stress-filled leader struggling to know how to proceed. We saw the uncertainty, the frailty, but also the candour. It revealed just how much we rely, in moments such as these, on the wisdom and guidance of our leaders.

Some saw Ford questioning his own decision as a failing. They want a bigger brain running the show. Or the appearance of one.

Doug Ford isn’t a complicated guy. Surely part of his appeal to some Ontario voters is his unvarnished, straight-talking character. So it was not particularly remarkable that the political veneer fell away for a few, brief moments. Rather, the more interesting bit is that we mostly go along.

I expect the truth of it is that there are likely few other good choices. We are all fumbling around in the dark. The consequences of the range of possible avenues— from full lockdown to a wide-open race to herd immunity—all risk potentially devastating outcomes. Mostly unknown. Our political leaders tentatively navigate the COVID landscape on a day-to-day basis. Doing the best they can with the tools, resources and information at their disposal.

In the early 1990s, Kathleen and I travelled through Yunnan province in China. We took a rickety, bone-jarring bus from Kunming for 20 hours to the town of Lijiang in the mountainous western edge of China where it shares a border with Myanmar.

Early on in this journey, it became apparent that our bus driver had little regard for his welfare, let alone that of his passengers— regularly passing large trucks on blind cliffside curves, sometimes three wide—seemingly oblivious or uncaring to the possibility of oncoming vehicles, or the conflagration of crushed metal and flames we would surely be rendered at the bottom of an unmapped valley, had we slipped off the roadway edge—often just a few feet and nanoseconds away. While it made for spectacular views and vivid memories, the regular roll-of-the-dice with our lives forced me to continually assess how devoted our driver was to his mortal coil. With no means to communicate our anxiety to him, I sat quietly asking the same question over-and-over again in my mind: Does this guy want to wake up tomorrow? Our fate was tied to this stranger’s existential outlook.

That we survived, however, was likely more random than calculated. At the time, nearly 1,000 people died each day on China’s roads. The roadway carnage was notorious and unparalleled in any other country.

The truth is that life is more random than calculated. We tend to vastly overestimate our collective ability and wisdom. We radically underestimate the carnage done when enough of our species queue up to follow the certainty and moral certitude of others.

That said, we must continue to assess and mitigate risk during this pandemic. We have a collective obligation to do this on behalf of the most vulnerable among us. We must surely do our best to take prudent steps to protect ourselves and our neighbours— each of us using the best information and guidance available to us. But we can do so without deluding ourselves that our leaders or anyone else knows the way forward. Only that they are doing the best they can with the resources they have available.

This isn’t a partisan argument. Instead, it is offered as recognition that this pandemic is an overwhelming event. That those claiming superior knowledge and clarity of insight should cause some healthy skepticism and wariness. Not a rejection of reasonable risk mitigation. Not defiance. Nor second-guessing. Just a simple acknowledgement that we are all learning on the fly.

Honesty in our leaders is a good thing. We might do well with a bit more of it.

rick@wellingtontimes.ca