Reading the Air - Ideas for a Post Pandemic World

Will we consider a new trajectory different from the one that was - by most accounts - leading us to a climate crisis of catastrophic proportions?

By Hami Ramani

The silver lining of this novel coronavirus pandemic is clear: A world heretofore intoxicated by excess and hedonism now finds itself defining and nurturing the essential; thus, effectively bringing to a halt much of humanity’s consumptive activities.

The social distancing and isolation now required has inspired photos of clear skies in normally smog-ridden Los Angeles and New York City; less car traffic allows families to walk and ride their bicycles with relative safety and increased enjoyment in their neighborhoods; we watch freeways emptied of private vehicles at all times of the day rendering the maniacal phrase “rush-hour” at least temporarily obsolete.

There are also murmurings of reduced pollution over busy city-centers of the world. And, large drops in demand for oil have created squabbles amongst the gang of oil-dependent nations that comprise the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC). Meanwhile, oil barrels now sit unused as rabid consumption is mitigated by the pandemic. 

Sadly, reports of long-established racial and socioeconomic inequalities in the United States of America are translating to the disproportionate loss of life from COVID-19 infections in the African-American and Hispanic communities. But even in this fact lies a silver lining: healthcare and political leaders (even to a small degree Trump and Pence) are highlighting the plight of these communities, a phenomenon embedded in the USA’s institutionalized racism.

This pandemic has also brought our food supply into sharp focus: Farmers are essential. Grassroots efforts by restauranteurs and other local institutions have resulted in ad-hoc Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) programs consisting of produce from local farmers.

I have also noted quiet but clear commentary from local nurseries and others urging us to grow our own food. For example, Walter Andersen Nursery’s April newsletter provides some helpful basic tips on starting a garden and specifies that “a vegetable garden about 16’ x 10’ can feed a family of four for one summer.”

Victory gardens were seen as a patriotic act in the face of World War II; will the sentiments of yesteryear rekindle a similar movement now?

While deaths from the novel coronavirus pandemic continue to rise, we do see evidence that mitigation efforts implemented in much of the world are leading to a slowing of the spread of the virus.

Many questions remain as to how long social distancing will need to continue and when economies and societies can be “reopened”. But perhaps the most important and difficult question is not when but how.

Do we plan to “go back to normal” or will there be a “new normal”? What does a “new normal” look like and who decides? Will we rethink the autopilot mode most of the world had set? Will we consider a new trajectory different from the one that was - by most accounts - leading us to a climate crisis of catastrophic proportions?

Or, will we heed the many lessons this pandemic has already taught us in a few short months? Will we reconsider the definition of essential not just today but into the future? Does our newly-discovered collective consciousness breathe new life into an otherwise bleak reality that was not caused by the virus but rather made plainly clear by it?

Of course, there is not one singular answer to the centuries of human exploitation of Nature (and each other). Yet, there are many examples in the silver lining of these times that may help us write a new narrative; one that sets us on a path to health rather than wealth; one that sees humanity as a part of Nature not Angels or Stewards of this land; one that confides in the collective for strength rather than in oft-touted rugged individualism.

To appreciate the lessons of Nature (COVID-19-related or not) we must slow down at all levels of operation. This means ending the supply of kindling to fan the flames of “rush-hour”.

It means stopping the unfettered and often hedonistic travel that has led to the commoditization of cultures and contributed to a toxic rise in greenhouse gases. It also means encouraging thinking and acting locally and understanding the provenance of our food. 

One need only look out of one’s window to find the potential. There is a vastness within our so-called private property. A small bit of soil can grow food and our surplus can be shared with neighbors and friends.

This simple act is the best of all rabbit holes as growing food in our yards and community gardens is only superficially about feeding ourselves. The most important aspect of neighborhood gardens is the way in which they put us in touch with Nature and one another: As the daikon radish pierces the ground it aerates the soil, allows water to penetrate deeper and nurtures the billions of visible and invisible beings that keep soil healthy, the foundation of a balanced ecosystem.

If we are to learn from the silver lining of our moment we must look beyond ourselves; we must read the air.

In Japanese culture this simple philosophy encourages one to find the meaning in things not explicitly expressed; it asks one to be fully immersed in the sensory experience of life. So, now we must read the air presented us by the pandemic.

We must find strength in the human collective while simultaneously appreciating the awesomeness of Nature’s omnipresence. We must then dedicate the collective to rectifying the abuses of yesterday and learn from the silver linings of today.

***

Hami is a neurologist who enjoys riding his bicycle, walking and taking public transit to get around. He also takes pleasure in gardening at home to nurture a balanced ecosystem.