It’s been five years since the world came to a sudden halt. Outbreaks of a deadly coronavirus — first in China, then in Italy and Iran, and then seemingly everywhere at once — prompted the World Health Organization to declare the virus a global pandemic on March 11, 2020, bringing the full scope of danger into clear view.
We could not know what would follow — the unimaginable death toll, the hardship of isolation and the fraying of our social fabric — nor could we predict the heroism and courage of those who worked tirelessly to protect public health, help their neighbors and save lives.
But five years on, we are less prepared for another outbreak, which scientists say is inevitable in an ever-changing world. So it is valuable to consider what we learned, what mistakes were made, and what’s needed to protect us in the future.
The New York Times reported, on Jan. 1, 2020, about a respiratory illness that had sickened scores of people in Wuhan, China. Authorities there were tight-lipped about the scope and severity of the disease — silence that would imperil the world — but it was evident early on that this was no ordinary flu strain affecting one of China’s most populous cities.
In mere weeks, the WHO declared the virus a global emergency as other countries reported cases. Travel restrictions were imposed, and screenings at transit centers — airports, train stations — sought to contain the spread. But the insidious nature of the illness rendered those efforts fruitless.
The virus was everywhere. And on March 11, the WHO labeled it a pandemic, the first declared since HIV/AIDS 38 years earlier. At the time, there were 118,000 COVID-19 cases reported in 114 countries and 4,291 total deaths.
As in other parts of the country, Hampton Roads and Virginia took extraordinary measures to protect public health, which included restrictions on businesses, schools and even outdoor recreation.
Some — moving schools to virtual learning, restricting non-essential businesses — were effective in slowing the spread of infection. Others, such as closing beaches, parks and playgrounds, were well intentioned but flawed. In hindsight, school closures lasted too long; prolonged isolation took a dangerous toll on our population.
But COVID-19 killed at least 7 million people worldwide, including an estimated 1.2 million Americans. It’s believed the virus infected more than 80% of U.S. residents; an untold number, believed to be in the tens of millions, suffer lasting effects from the disease, an array of symptoms referred to as “long-COVID.”
Those numbers would be far greater were it not for the strong measures taken and the remarkable work of health professionals and medical researchers who found ways to battle the disease. Best practices were shared, effective therapeutics deployed, and a vaccine developed in remarkable time under the Trump administration and distributed under the Biden administration helped stem the tide.
The vaccine was the greatest achievement in the pandemic, success that stemmed from focused federal leadership of Operation Warp Speed, determined work by private industry, seamless cooperation by state and local officials, and a public eager to see things return to normal.
But it’s impossible to believe that so many would have died were those same elements evident in other areas of our pandemic response. Recall states bidding against each other for protective equipment and other needs for lack of a coordinated federal response, or state officials emerging as a more trustworthy source of reliable health information as President Donald Trump pushed unproven remedies and sowed distrust in public health systems that stood in stark contrast to the work of Operation Warp Speed.
Politicization of the COVID-19 response reduced the appetite for a thorough review or an honest accounting of how to improve. As a result, the nation is less prepared for another pandemic, and a larger portion of the public is apt to be skeptical of efforts to confront future outbreaks, even when such measures are necessary.
Five years on, our communities and our nation haven’t come to terms with the overwhelming trauma inflicted by this virus. Until we do, we will be less likely to forcibly and collectively confront the next one, which will undoubtedly come.
— The Virginian-Pilot