By contrast, former Vice President Joe Biden's basement-bunker response has been vindicated, such commentators allege. Biden drove home his status as the country's premiere symbol of safetyism on Friday by giving a masked and muffled speech in the vast outdoors of Grand Rapids. No one was within yards of him; Biden could not possibly have become infected or infected anyone else, since transmission in well-ventilated outdoor spaces is virtually nonexistent. Yet such displays of coronavirus virtue-signaling will now multiply exponentially, especially from masked television reporters speaking en plein air to a camera yards away.
New York Times columnist Frank Bruni claims that Trump's infection proves that the country has been lax in its coronavirus response. "It is time, at long last, to learn. To be smarter. To be safer. To be more responsible, to others as well as to ourselves," he wrote on Saturday. "We cannot erase the mistakes made in America's response to the coronavirus, but we can vow not to continue making them."
"Be safer?" The United States has wiped out decades of hard-won prosperity by following the spirit-crushing injunction to "stay safe." The lockdowns have destroyed the dreams of thousands of entrepreneurs and have put millions out of work, leaving cities like New York moribund ghost towns. The school closures are consigning millions of children worldwide to stunted lives due to delayed, if not now permanently deferred, acquisition of reading, writing, and socialization skills. Children are being inculcated into a culture of fear.
But in Frank Bruni's world, Americans have been indifferent to risk and have insisted on plunging ahead with their ordinary lives in the face of it. Trump's illness points out "another moral," Bruni writes, "also obvious but apparently necessary to articulate: There is a real risk in being cavalier. The president is now the embodiment of that."
The argument that Trump's infection demonstrates anything about a proper coronavirus strategy entails a logical fallacy, however. It is neither a vindication nor a refutation of either man's policy choices that Trump has gotten the coronavirus and Biden (so far) has not. Though Trump has not been entirely consistent in his position on lockdowns and social distancing, he has emphasized the need to reopen the economy and get people working again. Biden, on the other hand, has never stopped arguing that getting the virus under control through moratoria on ordinary human activity is the precondition to reopening the economy (even as he blames Trump for the unemployment caused by lockdowns).
The fate of these two individuals tells us nothing about the overall wisdom of their respective positions, which must be evaluated in terms of larger populations and tradeoffs. Making policy based on Trump's recent infection would, ironically, replicate his own oft-decried narcissism. And if Trump's infection is determinative, why shouldn't the death of someone who failed to get treatment for late-stage cancer during the medical shutdowns be determinative as well? The validity of any given policy choice that affects thousands must be judged based on averages, not individual cases.
We set highway speeding limits to maximize convenience at what we consider an acceptable risk to human life. It is statistically certain that every year, there will be tens of thousands of driving deaths. A considerable portion of those deaths could be averted by "following the science" of force and velocity and enforcing a speed limit of, say, 15 miles an hour. But we tolerate motor-vehicle deaths because we value driving 75 miles an hour on the highway, and up to 55 miles an hour in cities, more than we do saving those thousands of lives. When those deaths come — nearly 100 a day in 2019 — we do not cancel the policy. Nor would it be logical to cancel a liberal highway speed because a legislator who voted for it died in a car accident.
We could reduce coronavirus transmission to zero by locking everyone in a separate cell until a vaccine was developed. There are some public-health experts who from the start appeared ready to implement such radical social distancing. The extent to which we veer from that maximal coronavirus protection policy depends on how we value its costs and the competing goods: forgone life-saving medical care and deaths of despair from unemployment and social isolation, on the one hand, and the ability to support one's family through work and to build prosperity through entrepreneurship, on the other. The advocates of maximal lockdowns have rarely conceded such trade-offs, but they are ever-present.
It is not even clear that a more work-friendly policy would lead to more deaths. While the profile of the typical coronavirus decedent has been known for months — median age 80, suffering from co-morbidities that likely would have killed the person anyway — the exact path of transmission remains mysterious. There is no correlation globally between degree of lockdowns and coronavirus death rates. Countries such as Britain that imposed strict lockdowns have massively higher death rates than many countries, such as Japan, that mandated no lockdowns. Deaths and hospitalizations are going down in localities that were more commerce-friendly. There is still no uncontroverted evidence on mask-wearing. Thousands upon thousands of people who have assiduously worn masks have gotten the virus; thousands upon thousands who have not worn masks have not gotten it. Countries with extensive mask-wearing show no better results than several where people breathe free outdoors. What we do know is that transmission occurs overwhelmingly in poorly ventilated indoor spaces, between individuals who have been in close contact for a considerable period of time — 15 minutes, in the CDC's contact-tracing guidelines. The viral load in circulating outdoor air is too low to pose a risk to people passing one another in ordinary street interactions.
The long-known facts about the distribution of mortality risk from the coronavirus — relatively high at the upper age and illness range, negligible in the young — have made no difference to the tyranny of fear. On average, the coronavirus is, according to new WHO data, not more deadly than the flu, yet the conflation of cases with deaths is now absolute. When California State University, Long Beach, a campus of 37,000 students, shuts down because five students tested positive for the virus, we are in the realm of hysteria. When the New York Times portrays a 101-year-old military veteran as a coronavirus fatality, as opposed to someone who died of old age; when the Milwaukee coroner does the same for the death of an 89-year-old male with dementia, hypertensive and atherosclerotic cardiovascular disease, and chronic renal failure, you know that the media and public-health establishments are looking for any excuse to inflate the death numbers.
Lockdown proponents are hoping that Trump will follow the course of British prime minister Boris Johnson, who reversed his position on keeping the economy open after his own hospitalization for coronavirus. Trump should foreswear such a self-involved about-face. Either a policy is valid, or it is not; its impact on any given policymaker should not determine that judgment, even if the human mind works from personal experience outward.
Instead, Trump should tell the American public something that it has needed to hear from a political leader for months: we must go on with our lives. There will be more coronavirus cases; there will be, tragically, more deaths. But we cannot shut down our human interactions in order to prevent one kind of death. We have never done so before, and the consequences of having done so this year will cripple human life for generations to come if we do not overcome fear now.
Trump articulated as much in an address from Walter Reed National Military Medical Center on Saturday. He could not be "locked up in a room upstairs [trying to be] totally safe," he said. "I had to be out there. This is America, this is the United States. . . . we have to confront problems. As a leader you have to confront problems." The sentiment is exactly right. The effort in which we are currently engaging — to "stay safe" from one particular risk at whatever cost — is inimical to civilization. No matter Trump's medical outcome, the strength of our governing institutions will carry us through, thanks to the sacrifices of countless people over the centuries who were willing to risk everything, even to die, for the expansion of justice and freedom.
Under today's safetyism mentality, sacrifice and risk-taking become unthinkable. The martial virtues of courage and stoicism have been sidelined and pathologized. When Trump briefly left Walter Reed on Sunday in a motorcade to greet supporters, a doctor at the hospital complained that the Secret Service agents in Trump's limousine "might get sick. They may die." These are the same Secret Service agents who are expected to take a bullet for a president. They were behind a plexiglass barrier in the car; all occupants were masked. Under our feminized ethos, showing resoluteness during a crisis, reassuring the public about one's well-being, are no longer positive traits in a leader; they are violations of maximal risk aversion. (Of course, medical information about a president's condition should be transparent.)
Reopening is still the right policy. Mandatory outdoor mask-wearing is merely a way for government to turn citizens into walking billboards of fear, sending the false message that danger is everywhere. Infection rarely leads to death. Most of the infected recover. Given his governmental duties, the surprise is that Trump — as president, another kind of front-line worker — has not gotten sick before now.
Last week, Trump gave a debate performance embodying what the Left likes to call toxic masculinity. Today, anticipating his departure from the hospital, Trump tweeted: "Don't be afraid of Covid. Don't let it dominate your life." The mainstream media blew its top, calling the tweet "dangerous," "gross," and "almost impossible to believe." Let them fume. Trump is now modelling masculine leadership at its best: upbeat, rational, and unbowed.