Hernan Cortes fled the Aztec capital Tenochtitlan in 1520 under blistering military assault, losing the bulk of his troops on his escape to the coast.
But the Spanish conquistador unknowingly left behind a weapon far more devastating than guns and swords: smallpox.
When he returned to retake the city, it was reeling amid an epidemic that would level the Aztec population, destroy its power structures and lead to an empire’s brutal defeat — initiating a centuries-long annihilation of native societies from Tierra del Fuego to the Bering Strait.
From the Plague of Justinian and the Black Death to polio and AIDS, pandemics have violently reshaped civilization since humans first settled into towns thousands of years ago. While the outbreaks wrought their death tolls and grief, they also prompted massive transformation — in medicine, technology, government, education, religion, arts, social hierarchy, sanitation. Before the cholera epidemics of the 19th century, cities thought nothing of mingling their sewage and water supply.
No one can know exactly how the COVID-19 pandemic will ultimately change the world. Unforeseen consequences will lead to even more unforeseen consequences.
But stress cracks are already showing. Nations are turning inward. Rulers are seeking more authoritarian power. The decline of American leadership is accelerating. Economies are facing recessions. People are living in fear and distrust, with many losing jobs and potentially facing poverty they’ve never experienced before.
At the same time, scientists, technocrats and businesses are working feverishly to stem this pandemic and better prepare for the next one. There is little doubt new technology will rise from this epic crisis.
So too might things less tangible.
AMERICANS, by and large, appear to be looking to science to save the day, not to political spin and partisanship. The virus could revive faith in the inarguable forces of biochemistry, deep in the fact-based universe.
On another level, the abrupt disruption of routines that were so long considered by many unalterable — the long daily commute, the business meeting that requires a flight or two, the need to schedule children’s every hour, the go-go-go mentality — opens the possibility of a behavioral reset, for those who can afford it. Millions have stumbled on the ancient simplicity of an afternoon walk and many wonder if there might be a way to reduce some of the noise in their lives, keep the freeways a bit more open and the air a bit more clear.
“People tend to need a big shock to change their behavior,” said Marlon G. Boarnet, professor and chair of the department of urban planning and spatial analysis at the University of Southern California.
In particular, he sees opportunities to fight a slower-moving, potentially far more destructive global disaster: climate change.
“Now we see our day-to-day habits can change more quickly than we thought,” he said. “People have had the opportunity to telecommute. The reality is they didn’t have to go to every conference. And we’re getting a glimpse of what Los Angeles could look like if we could get ahead of our transportation problem.”
He said public officials need to craft policies to make some of the positive changes permanent before old habits return and solidify.
Although many people, from hotel maids to emergency room physicians, cannot do their job online, those who can should consider it, he says. “If we had everybody telecommute a day a week, you would have an incredible air quality improvement.”
PANDEMICS are famously idiosyncratic in the havoc they cause and the human adaptations that emerge in their wake. An adage among those who study these global infections: “If you’ve seen one pandemic, you’ve seen one pandemic.”
Together, pandemics and epidemics have led to massive advances in public health that allowed cities and civilizations to grow and prosper: germ theory, urban sanitation, vaccination, penicillin, better hygiene, isolation wards and the scientific method, which brought rationality to modern medicine.
