Exactly a month ago I mused on how the statistics of Covid-19 might impact on our street. Contrary to my fears then, to the best of my knowledge no one on our street has contracted the virus. This, I would guess, is largely down to social distancing and staying indoors. It’s worth repeating what I’ve also said previously: all of us up here have houses of a decent size with gardens, so staying in is much, much less of a hassle than it is for others. I’m writing this in my shed where I have a desk, some hi-fi gear salvaged from charity shops, and books and cds. I can keep to myself up here quite contentedly, and the two others in the household in our two-story house are equally comfortable. It means that we can get through this without tripping over each other all the time. I can do my exercise bike thing in the garage. We take walks at different times. Everyone else in the street is similarly fortunate and privileged.
Why am I musing on this? Because there’s a lot of stuff flying around, some informed, most not, comparing relative data from different countries. I understand why that’s happening, but my feeling is that, once this is all over, the post hoc analysis will differ from the current instant analysis in the media and on social media. A lot of what I see now is reductionist, looking for one to one causal relationships between single factors and outcomes.
Viruses don’t care; they enter a host body and a reaction starts as the virus replicates. That’s it. Several factors, imprecisely known in the current case, determine how severe the consequences of that reaction are but, prior to that, the host body must be on the wrong end of a transmission vector, which is why privilege is important, though not determinative.
I don’t think it is too radical to suggest that it’s plain as a pikestaff (and you know how plain they are) that there are multiple variables in play, and the key variables might not yet even have been identified. We don’t understand why more men than women die of Covid-19; we don’t understand why it is more severe for some people rather than others; we don’t understand the socio-economic aspects of transmission and vulnerability, for example, though we can observe all three.
Data from various systems in different countries are unlikely to be capable of simple comparision because of the way the data are constructed and gathered. Boring as it might be to say, but the methodology behind data is central to understanding it and working with it. As matters stand, I trust neither our politicians nor the media to pick their way through this when the time comes. Also, need it be said, this isn’t over yet and such data as we have are partial and provisional. As a general rule, I’ve found that the true experts are those who acknowledge what they don’t know rather than broadcast their certainties; experts don’t grandstand.
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I heard rumour that at least one reader of this blog is worried that what I write is evidence of rampant cabin fever. I’d say just the opposite. For Siddhartha, at least in Hermann Hesse’s telling, the sound of all the voices of the great river combined into the eternal Om and brought him Enlightenment. I wouldn’t say I’ve found Enlightenment, but relaxing in the shed with the Grateful Dead and Half Man Half Biscuit induces a certain reflective state. The similarity of the days has a Zen quality; the reduction of external stimuli forces a focus on the essentials. I’ve often said over the years, and last wrote here a year ago, that I think it’s necessary to reinvent oneself every decade or so. The current situation is the same, helping me to understand what is important to me. When I think about what I miss in the current situation, the answer is that I miss surprisingly little.
I miss being able to jump on a bus and go down to the coast for a walk or to browse charity shops, junk shops, record shops and book shops. I miss not being able to take a long weekend in Sutherland or to find cheap travel to Lisbon or Porto, or to see my daughter in the US. I miss not being able to go 45 miles across country to see family. I miss going to concerts and finding time to meet friends in a bar. I miss good ale, well kept, in a traditional pub.
The last time I saw my Uncle Alan he looked around his house and garden and told me he had everything he wanted right there. Subject to my previous paragraph, I know now exactly what he meant.
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I had a really good sleep last night, essentially 9 1/2 hours, waking up only once around 5.30, which is when it starts to get light. I varied the daily routine by making Arabic coffee rather than cafetière, by taking a walk this morning rather than this evening, and having a good 30 minute session on the exercise bike late this afternoon rather than this morning. Little things.
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Music tonight from an old favourite, Kevin Ayers. I wrote recently about his first solo album after leaving Soft Machine, Joy of a Toy, but I most associate him with his third album, Whatevershebringswesing. I like all of that album, but this one always has me singing along.
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