We Love The Splash

But too few care about the ripples

I had a great childhood, and not just the version based on adult nostalgia or my current and best cherry-picked memories. I felt like a lucky, happy kid even at the time, getting cut from the 5th grade basketball team notwithstanding. I grew up an Air Force brat, the oldest of three kids who were always close growing up (and remain so today). My mom’s side of the family lived mostly in Florida and my dad’s side in Georgia. Once a year, we’d load up the maroon station wagon and set out around 4:00 a.m. so my folks could be spared the sibling lunacy that ensued as soon as we started playing (and cheating at) I Spy for hours on end.

Georgia was woods and ponds. Florida was the beach and the pool. Those of you who, like me, grew up in the 80s and early 90s might recall that Florida discount hotel pools were essentially a dump truck full of chlorine with about 20 ounces of water mixed in. I loved it. No parental precaution ever prevented bloodshot chlorinated eyes and a hefty sunburn by day two. And whether we were heaving rocks into a Georgia pond or cannonballing into a Florida pool, we loved the splash.

The splash is visible. It’s noticeable. It earns acclaim! The prideful “Did you see that!?” was a frequent childhood refrain. Eventually, of course, the post-splash ripples fan out, boring and unheralded. Who the hell wants to watch the ripples roll across a pond until they hit the bank or disappear? We’d much prefer to get another splash queued up. And unfortunately, the splash is the default state of our politics and media, while the ripples are often relegated to obscurity. We tout only the first-order effects of our decisions and in fact begin sharpening the narrative about just how amazing the impending splash is going to be long before the rock even leaves our hand.

This isn’t anything new, of course. We’re quite used to political self-aggrandizement based on the splash—declaring victory long before any tangible results could have possibly borne fruit, and certainly before conducting any honest assessment of the unintended consequences inherent in any decision. Inevitably, a chorus of clapping seals celebrate each splash (provided the cannonballer is a member of your political team). We rely in large part on the media to follow up on the ripples. Too often, however, they simply angle to cover the next splash.

Then Covid-19 arrived on the scene, and suddenly our love affair with splashes turned Fatal Attraction. A seemingly overwhelming majority of people were willing to strap on horse blinders to any and all ripples when it came to Covid. On Twitter, there is a simple, two-step formula I see repeatedly. Simply note the following:

(1) 600K+ US deaths

(2) Covid spreads in humans

That’s it. That’s all one needs to justify any Covid splash. I have been utterly flummoxed to witness the sheer volume of people whose default in the face of the pandemic is essentially “no action in pursuit of limiting Covid can be wrong.” Any pushback, no matter how nuanced, reasonable, or evidence-based, that attempts to call attention to the ripples is brushed aside as a form of Covid-denialism. It’s maddening.

Right now, politicians and decisionmakers are holding unlimited “get out of jail free” cards as they navigate the game board. Repeat after me: “I’ll never apologize for the amazing work we did to save lives in [insert state or municipality here].” “Unlike [bad states] who didn’t take Covid seriously, [my state] chose to act.” “In [great, heralded state], we chose to protect our children, our teachers, our healthcare professionals, and our families. We did it the right way.”

Because I fear that we are a generally unserious people, sated by a generally unserious media (including social media), these platitudes will suffice. If the educational gap between children from wealthy and poor households widens to generationally high levels and takes years to rebound, it won’t matter. If K-12 student referrals to mental health professionals spike this year, most people won’t care. Hell, many won’t even know. They don’t want to. Those are ripples, and inconvenient ones at that. And most people certainly don’t want to consider their continuing contribution to the Covid zeitgeist—the ever-present existential dread that permeated so much of our lives—well after the pandemic’s lethality waned.

Lately, politicos no longer have to ignore the ripples in favor of the splash—they simply pretend the ripples don’t exist and instead gaslight their way through engagements with those who would urge caution against extreme solutions to admittedly difficult problems. They need only lump all criticism into some vague amalgamation of deniers and conspiracists, and the “team sports” aspect of modern day politics and media kicks in. Legions rally around their hero who “takes action” because he cares, and they collectively ward off the evil people who call into question the decisions of the enlightened.

Here are some facts: the Delta variant is now dominant in the US, likely reaching 90%+ of Covid cases in several regions as of today given its recent growth. Over the last week, US air travel is up nearly 200% over 2020 (and we’re now at more than 80% of our 2019 numbers). Sports stadiums are packed. Businesses are pretty much wide open. Life looks much closer to pre-Covid than at any time in the last 16 months. Yet despite all these spread-inducing factors, our trendlines are nowhere near last summer as a nation. Average daily cases are up over the past few weeks, but are well below every day of the pandemic prior to June 2021. Hospitalizations are showing a mild rise, but still near pandemic lows and down 90% from their peak. Last summer, the US as a whole was above 20 hospitalizations per 100K people. Right now, the states getting hit the worst by Covid are around 15/100K (The US is around 4/100K). Positive testing percentage is sub-3%. Deaths continue to fall.

I don’t know how many people are aware of the metrics above. Yes, certain regions are getting hit right now—generally those with a combination of low vaccination percentage and lower immunity from prior infection. But given all the data we’ve accumulated since early 2020, some people still tout Covid as having the capacity to wreak Fall 2020-level havoc at any moment. I assume the reason is so that all types of “splash” solutions are on the table, and the risk of inaction needs to appear (to the public) too great for anyone to bother watching the ripples.

Right now, decisionmakers are discussing potential action plans next month at schools and colleges. Businesses are discussing in-person work and mask/vaccination requirements. Government officials are considering anything and everything that will up their political cred and earn the most accolades from the “right” people (if election is near, the voters…if not, the media and Twitter blue checks). Some will no doubt use Covid’s ominous cloud to barter for their interest groups, regardless of the actual data, trends, lethality, or anything else. The calculus for these decisions must include more than positive Covid-19 tests. It must include more than Covid-19, period. I know folks are looking to make a splash, but the water doesn’t stop moving simply because a camera is no longer pointing at the pond.

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