A Pandemic Preface
In the days before Nest City becomes available to readers, I’m watching the coronavirus pandemic take over towns and cities and nations around our planet. The 2020 Olympic games have been cancelled, but the flags of the world’s nations are still top of mind. Who has the most cases, the most deaths, the most recoveries? Who is cheating on the numbers, to make themselves look better? Where are the stories of hardship? Where are the stories of beauty and triumph, despite the odds? Where are the stories of devastating defeat? As a species, we are experiencing and watching our transformation in real time.
Humans alive today have not experienced a pandemic of this magnitude; if anyone was alive for the Spanish Flu in 1918 they were not old enough to remember it. In our lifetimes, when parts of the world have experienced a disaster or emergency, the rest of the world has been healthy and able to provide support. Yet as the COVID-19 pandemic sweeps across the planet, everyone is affected and we don’t have the same means to support each other. This is happening at scale: nations are not able to help other nations and cities are not able to help other cities. And yet, on the ground, some citizens are able to help other citizens. We are not able to be physically close to each other, but we are able to sing to each other, buy groceries for each other, visit with neighbours we have never met, protect vulnerable populations. We are able, should we choose, to be kind to one another. We also, out of fear, defend ourselves from the realization that we cannot control the uncontrollable. From this fear we stockpile groceries, accept and sometimes espouse racist attitudes and behaviours, and deny the new rules that we need to follow to be safe.
Whether we want to or not, we are making the transition into a new world. In each of our lifetimes, most of us have experienced a significant transition: a loved one dies, disaster hits our community (flood, fire, economic downturn), work is lost, accident or illness strikes, etc. The difference is that we are all making this transition at the same time. All of us. Together. We are all going through the “disaster door,” crossing a threshold, whether we want to or not. There is no going back.
“Whether we want to or not, we are making the transition into a new world. ”
In every place on our planet, the response to the coronavirus varies according to the local context. Strategies to slow the rate of infection and keep our physical distance from each other differ in accordance with local culture and infrastructure. Over the weeks, months, years, and lifetimes ahead, we will learn more about ourselves by examining the diverse ways we handled this emergency. At this time, the only perspective I have to offer is this: we are making a transition from “business as usual” to something new. The new is shaped by us. We have ourselves to rely on.
We are able to choose how to respond to the crisis. I do not propose that this is easy, or that you or I will be perfectly able to make conscious choices all of the time. Yet in conversation with a friend the other day, I noticed a simple truth: not all humans will survive this pandemic or the climate crisis. Both of these catastrophic events will end the lives of many humans, yet in both instances we do have the power to influence how quickly and how drastically events unfold. “Flattening the curve” applies to both the pandemic and the climate emergency.
“Perhaps the purpose of the pandemic is to show us that we are capable of snapping into action.”
Perhaps the purpose of the pandemic (if indeed there is one) is to show us that we are capable of snapping into action, that we have what it takes to address the world’s climate emergency. The pandemic proves that we are adaptable and capable of quick change when needed. In less than a month, our cities have completely changed: the practices of self-isolation, keeping physical distance from each other, working from home, providing financial support to those who have lost work, and many other plans to aid in the continuous adjustments to come.
“Nest City is released into a pandemic world of fear and possibility.”
Nest City is released into a pandemic world of fear and possibility. While writing this preface, I paused to watch the season finale of Star Trek: Picard, the latest TV show in the Star Trek franchise. As with many episodes, a world needs to be saved. Jean-Luc Picard’s words apply to us to today here on Earth: “Fear is an incompetent teacher. . . . To be alive is a responsibility, as well as a right.” In this time of palpable danger, it takes extra effort to notice if the fear I experience is real and close, or not. For example, the risk is low that we will run out of toilet paper, and if we do, the consequences are not life-threatening. I have a choice: hunker down in fear or expand into new possibilities.
Two questions guide me into possibility:
What is the quality of life I/we wish to have?
Under what conditions do I/we respond responsibly?
We are gifted with a reset. We will reinvent our work, and how we work, and this will regenerate our cities. We will choose to recalibrate the roles of government, business, community organizations, and citizens so we work better for each other. We will realign the relationships between our ecological, physical, social, and economic habitats so our cities are healthier. We will choose to make city nests that serve us well.
“We are gifted with a reset. We will reinvent our work, how we work, and this will regenerate our cities.”
The above text appears as the preface in Nest City, to be released later this month.
