Toby Neal: Living through the coronavirus revolution
Welcome to the revolution. And you're a part of it.
We've had to get used to "the new normal," as everybody likes to put it. But the old normal will not be returning soon, if it ever does.
Everything has changed. People have changed. Thinking has changed.
No man is an island, goes the famous quote.
But in 2020 that has been turned on its head. Today every man, woman, and child is an island to all but their nearest and dearest, surrounded by an individual two metre exclusion zone (potentially subject to change).
This has been drummed in to us. Anyone who approaches closer, whether friends or strangers, is potentially a threat to your health, and so a health enemy.
So keep your distance please.
Nobody likes their personal space invaded, but six feet is not keeping people at arm's length. It is keeping them away.
As a result of coronavirus we are all claiming more personal space as our own and are wary of those around us in a way that we were not before. It's a new way of living and viewing our fellow human beings.
The thought that close proximity could kill focusses minds. It is an embedded thought which cannot now be erased.
Remember those far-off days before the deadly pandemic really started to get going in Britain, where we might still have hugged or shook hands with a little smile and perhaps an awkward comment along the lines of "maybe we ought not be doing this."?
Very quickly the little smile disappeared, along with the hugs and shaking hands. Those gestures of friendship and courtesy had to stop.
Carefree social interaction was the first casualty of the pandemic.
Reserve
Yet then there is that paradox which has been demonstrated many times throughout the crisis. Social distancing has helped bring people together.
British reserve, which could also be seen as keeping yourself to yourself, has melted somewhat. People have looked out for one another, neighbours have got to know each other better, and so on
In our coronavirus revolution, the extraordinary has become the commonplace. The entire British population has been locked down, and virtually locked up. It's the stuff of totalitarian states. And yet people overwhelmingly complied and mostly without complaint – even the healthy young, for whom, statistically speaking, coronavirus presents little risk.
A year ago, people would probably have thought such a thing was impossible in a free society.
So that is one thing we have learned about ourselves. Faced with a threat to us all, we can respond with common purpose and discipline. It is not surprising that comparisons have been made with the wartime spirit.
Who could have imagined, not that long ago, a situation in which millions of people unable to work would have four-fifths of their wages paid by the state? Indeed, who, before March, had ever used the word "furlough" anyway?
It's always difficult in the middle of a revolution to be able to tell how things will turn out, but you don't need a crystal ball to see that there are going to be casualties beyond the tragic death toll.
It's bad news if firms and enterprises struggle even after furloughing workers. For workers who are furloughed, it's bad news if the firms can get on all right without them. You don't need much imagination to see the consequences of that.
Vision
And if firms and enterprises get on all right with their staff home working, then what is the point of them forking out the overheads for physical offices?
This revolution has interrupted habits – of going out shopping, going to the flicks, going to the pub – and encouraged new habits, of internet shopping, watching box sets, and webchat.
With the easing of the lockdown, the High Streets beckon once more. Those habits which have been broken may not be that easy to put back together.
There's a green revolution as well. For a while the roads had traffic levels on a par with those of the 1950s, and our skies are virtually empty.
All that travel not needed then? A foretaste of an environmentally-friendly future? The other side of the coin in this green debate is the calamitous impact on jobs and the economy – ruined lives. And while it may sound trivial in the middle of a pandemic, ordinary Britons do like foreign holidays.
Some people have openly said they enjoyed the lockdown. Enforced closeness reconnected them with their families. They liked the upsurge in community spirit. They could hear the birds.
Tens of thousands have died. Billions upon billions has been spent to get us through, and we're going to have pay for it some day, somehow. A vision of a strange new world has dawned.
This was 2020. And when we say goodbye to it, there will be no hugs and kisses.
