Where do I lay the blame?

Even if systems are ultimately at fault, the people in my life have let me down

Photo by Sivani Bandaru on Unsplash

I recently finished Devon Price’s book, “Unlearning Shame.” I have so many mixed feelings about both the book and the author, but since reading it, I’ve been thinking a lot in particular about one of his arguments.

Price posits that we live in a society that loves to blame individuals for systemic problems, but actually, we (as individuals) are not (necessarily) personally responsible for many of the problems plaguing our society (like environmental degradation and climate change, racism, sexism, etc.). A good example of this is oil and gas companies inventing the concept of “carbon footprints” in order to tell individual consumers like you and me that we need to lower said carbon footprints because we’re polluting too much by driving and flying, when really it’s corporations (and the world’s one-percenters) with the largest recorded emissions. Or early automobile companies (when cars first came out) developing the term/concept of “jaywalking” to shift the blame from themselves/their products to pedestrians who were getting injured or dying in car accidents. Ultimately, Price argues that the blame and responsibility in so many of the daily situations we face is quite consciously but wrongly shifted onto those who should not bear it (i.e., individuals).

In our society, we are thus awash in systemic shame that keeps us feeling powerless and responsible for changing these massively ingrained social structures and systems, even though individual action will likely do nothing to solve the problems we face, Price suggests.

We point the finger toward ourselves (self-blame) and others because it is far easier to call out and blame individuals rather than hold to account corporations, governments, legacies, institutions, and entire cultures.

Some good points were made throughout the book, and I generally agree with his premise. Only collective action will solve a lot of these critical problems we’re facing. My recycling isn’t going to solve climate change. My speaking up about getting sexually assaulted isn’t going to end rape culture. My participation in a Palestine protest isn’t going to end the occupation and current genocide. However, when it comes to Covid, I feel the issue is much more complex and requires further exploration (and ultimately…(spoiler alert) individual action).

Price mentions the pandemic a few times in the book (often in the past tense…sigh), and takes what I find to be a very strange, hands-off approach.

Despite correctly outlining how public health institutions (e.g., the WHO, the CDC, the White House) completely failed in their mandates, particularly at the beginning of the pandemic, I think Price lets individuals too far off the hook here.

Looking back at the first few years of the still ongoing Covid-19 pandemic, the CDC in particular did indeed make an incredible number of poor decisions. Public health communications were often late, hidden, misinformed, or simply not factual or evidence based. Many officials (health and otherwise) across the U.S. used a shame-based approach (especially when it came to getting vaccinated), which studies have shown, never really works to get people to sustainably change their behavior.

It is nearly indisputable that the U.S. government and its public health institutions let down the American public in its Covid response (and continue to do so today). Many Americans, including myself, are now paying the price.

As I’ve written about many times before, millions upon millions of Americans now have Long Covid (despite many Americans not even knowing what Long Covid is or ever having heard the term). I am one of these Americans with Long Covid. Though estimates vary, anywhere from 5-20% of Americans are still living with it. Any figure within that range is a huge number of people. Millions and millions of Americans. And that’s just in the U.S.

On the personal level, the financial burden of Long Covid can be thousands and thousands of dollars per year. On a national level, the burden has reached billions.

The American government (and it’s important to mention that I mean both administrations - Biden also completely dropped the ball too) did a horrendous job when it came to:

• explaining that Covid was airborne

• explaining how airborne particles travel and how far

• explaining how the vaccines actually worked

• explaining how masks work

• explaining which masks would actually protect us against Covid

• explaining what Long Covid is

• explaining that people are still becoming disabled by and dying from Covid, even five years later

This list is obviously not exhaustive, but it does demonstrate some pretty serious public health failings.

It’s then no wonder that we are where we are today. In the U.S., there is likely less than 1% of people masking regularly (my best guess based on personal experience across the U.S. and online), millions already with Long Covid and thousands more developing it daily (particularly low-income, queer, and BIPOC people), millions dead, and no desire to discuss Covid any longer. Deep distrust of public health bodies and now their dissolution and dismantling. Gaslighting by medical professionals. Extreme anti-vaccine rhetoric. Dropping vaccination rates. Disdain, hate, harassment, and assault toward those of us who still mask. Masks bans being signed into law.

The government - primarily through its public health platforms - told everyone that the pandemic is over, so of course it must be. Many people - on both sides of the aisle - trust the government to tell them the truth - particularly white people, whose interests this government seeks to protect. When it came to my health, regretfully, I did. To my detriment.

Our privilege as white people (among other privileged groups in this country) has shielded us and (wrongly) led us to believe it would not lie to us - especially on something like our health. That it had our best interests at heart. I didn’t and still don’t trust the government when it came to a lot of things, but this was the first pandemic many of us lived through. Who else were we supposed to trust?

As a result, when the pandemic was declared to be “over,” most people started going “back to normal.” Masks came off. Admittedly, mine did in most places (save public transport, planes, hospitals). I wasn’t thinking about community. I wasn’t thinking about shared air. I wasn’t thinking about how my actions could affect others. The social pressure was so strong and continues to be such that nearly everyone has followed suit by now.

Bringing it back to Price’s book, I do absolutely recognize the institutional and systemic elements at play here since the beginning of the pandemic and do blame them. Capitalism, racism, hyper-individualism all play major roles here, among other factors.

I also recognize that as I’ve gotten more and more Covid Conscious, I am increasingly resentful (at least internally) toward those who eschew any kind of precautions against airborne illness - whether it be Covid, measles, RSV, flu, etc. I am judgemental, I am angry, I am jealous, I am critical. Indeed, I am much quicker to blame and point figures (albeit silently) at those around me, than at the government.

However, if we are to accept Price’s argument at face value when it comes specifically to Covid, then people who have stopped taking precautions are essentially blameless. They are not responsible for the harm they cause (including death) because the “forces that be” in our society are far too powerful, and far overshadow any individual impact.

Yes, they are indeed tremendously powerful and do shape individual behavior, but I take serious issue with this line of thinking when it comes to Covid.

I’ve had Covid two times (that I am aware of). There is an extremely high likelihood that I not only passed it onto other people when I had it but potentially also gave others Long Covid, just as someone did to me. Does this make me a bad person? Not necessarily. But I am responsible. My actions had consequences.

Five years in, we should all know by now how dangerous and life-altering Covid can be. You likely know someone who has died from Covid or who has been disabled by it. Likely you know both kinds of people, quite unfortunately.

Sure, bigger forces than us as individuals are at play and are to blame, but five years in, we - as individuals - are too. The problem is that many of us just prefer to live in denial than face reality. It’s much easier to bury one’s head in the sand than to accept that this shit isn’t actually over and is still wreaking havoc.

When people cough on those of us who wear a mask, they know exactly what they’re doing. When someone asks us if we’re masking because we’re sick, they keep their distance, indicating they know it’s something they do not want. If we answered that we’re masking because we’re sick with Covid, you know they’d step back immediately.

I can understand that there’s still an incredible amount of disinformation and misinformation about Covid that continues to float around (hell, despite reading so extensively about Covid, I keep learning new facts and finding out myths I thought to be true have now been thoroughly debunked (e.g., surgical masks offer sufficient protection from airborne particles, outdoor transmission is essentially zero, etc.) but when it comes to my friends and family - people who have been (in theory) listening to me sound the alarm bells for the last two years, I can’t fully buy the systemic explanation.

I have pleaded, begged, and educated. I’ve bought people PPE. I’ve shared articles. I’ve written extensively about my own Long Covid experience. I thought I drew the lines of causation pretty clearly; Covid exists > I didn’t mask > I caught Covid > I developed Long Covid > my whole life was ruined > please wear a mask so this doesn’t happen to you or others.

Yes, systemic and institutional forces are more powerful than my lone voice, but I just don’t see this as an excuse for my “inner circle.” They have the info, they have the living proof. And they still don’t care.

Covid isn’t like recycling your plastics. Or composting. Or using a reusable tote bag at the grocery store (which actually are also apparently terrible and require thousands upon thousands of uses to make up for their footprint). I would argue that these individual actions do not have a sufficient enough impact to be able to stop or reverse climate change. I’ll obviously keep recycling, but I am keenly aware that it’s not going to change the world, or anyone’s life.

But you know what does have the power to impact someone’s life? Not wearing a mask, and subsequently giving someone Long Covid.

They may develop brain damage, cardiovascular issues, hearing and vision issues, breathing problems, blood clots, chronic fatigue, and more. They may lose their jobs. Their families may abandon them. They may become homeless. They may die.

The knock-on effects of contracting Covid can be vast. Not wearing a mask can be wildly consequential. Our actions when it comes to Covid can be life-altering, and not in the good way.

Had I known five years ago what my life would look like today, I wouldn’t have never taken off my mask. It was mostly a selfish decision to put one back on full-time, but I also recognize now that I also have a responsibility to those I share the air with.

Back then we didn’t know about Long Covid, but now, we do. There are innumerable papers, studies, articles written on it (a quick search in Google Scholar for “Covid” reveals over 5 million hits!). We have no excuse anymore. We cannot say we do not know.

I wouldn’t wish the hell of Long Covid (and general chronic illness) on anyone. I truly think most people would not be able to handle how awful it is on an emotional, physical, mental, financial, and social level. I sure don’t know how I do. But I don’t really have a choice. The alternative is death (which admittedly at times has seemed like the easier option).

When people like Devon Price call themselves disability justice advocates, refer to the pandemic in the past tense, and say things like “you have to live your life,” that our mental health is so important that it’s okay to take unmasked Covid risks (which is especially strange since most activities can be done masked), and that ultimately, individuals aren’t at “fault” here, I must firmly disagree.

Despite living in a hyper-individualistic society in which we are programmed to believe otherwise, we are indeed responsible for our own, our families’, our neighbors’ and our communities’ health. Government has a role to play, yes. Racism, capitalism, ageism, and classism all contribute to how we handled and still handle this health crisis, yes. But five years on, we can no longer simply chalk it up to ‘forces out of our control.’ This is one issue where some level of individual responsibility is still critical and still very much needed.

If one person - through their actions (e.g., lack of precautions) - can disable another one, and even go so far as to give them a virus that will kill them, we need to do better as individuals. I’m not talking about feeling shame, but I do think we should feel a sense of accountability and responsibility for altering someone’s life so profoundly and thoroughly.

I won’t point the finger at the general unmasked society around me. I recognize that being angry at everyone and trying to change everyone is quioxotic. But I certainly will point the finger (in my head, and on this blog of mine) at the friends and family and colleagues and neighbors and doctors that interact with me regularly. They should know better. In fact, I think they do know better. I think the same could be said of the friends, family, colleagues, neighbors, and doctors of the millions of Americans who are currently suffering from Long Covid. Add all those people together, and that’s probably quite a substantial portion of the population of the United States that could be doing things differently, but doesn’t want to. [I also recognize that Covid Cautiousness takes significant financial privilege and am not talking about people who cannot afford to do so regularly and consistently. If you need masks, you can find your local mask bloc here! You can get free rapid tests in bulk here.]

Price says I shouldn’t be blaming these people - my ire should rather be directed toward systems, institutions, and other higher-level forces - but I can’t help but blame them. They possess the truth, but they refuse to act on it. They prefer pleasure and ignorance to reality and effort. I did too once. Now I’m paying the price.

It’s a dangerous precedent to take out the personal responsibility aspect of epidemiology and public health. When it comes to Covid, absolving the individual has made it such that we (as a society) don’t even think twice about how our actions may change our neighbor’s life - permanently. Though millions of Americans unnecessarily died and millions more have been unnecessarily disabled thanks to ineptitude, greed, racism, eugenics, and classism, and I will never forgive the government for handling the pandemic how it has, it’s become far too easy to (figuratively) wash one’s hands of any personal responsibility toward the fellow humans we share the air with.

We should never stop holding our systems and institutions accountable, nor should we ever lose sight of the invisible forces that shape our realities (especially at the risk of needlessly bearing an entire burden of shame, despair, and disempowerment on our own). But with Covid, our individual actions are far too powerful to ignore. In fact, it is precisely with Covid and other transmissible diseases that people have some of the greatest power and impact on an individual scale.

Unlike with racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, Islamophobia, capitalism, and other ills that plague our society (which we should ABSOLUTELY still be fighting and calling out, for the record), Covid presents a unique case in our which individual actions do matter - tremendously - and it would behoove us to act like it.

An article summarizing a recent study found that,

Respirators are so effective that United Kingdom research has indicated their use by the public would have dropped the rate of COVID transmission by an estimated factor of 9, compared with 0.6 for surgical masks. A factor of 9 is enough to put SARS-COV-2 into exponential decay, meaning the virus would have been highly suppressed for as long as respirator use continued. The exponential math of viral spread also means that perfect masking compliance would not have been required to achieve suppression.

When it comes to Covid, individual actions are incredibly powerful. One individual wearing a mask (and especially an N95) may not only protect a life through their action, but also potentially encourage others to wear a mask and save even more lives from both disablement and death.

Minimizing Covid, talking about it in the past tense, and relegating all responsibility to the government and public health institutions is not only inappropriate but dangerous, especially given that airborne illnesses are one case in which we, as individuals, have way more power than usual to positively impact a situation.

I don’t expect that we’ll be able to successfully reverse course on the environment within my lifetime, and certainly not with individual actions alone (though I will continue to reduce, reuse, recycle, and compost until the day I die), but it is clearer to me than ever before that we cannot pretend individuals do not have a role in stopping Covid transmission. My goal is not to shame anyone into changing their behavior, but rather point out that in some cases, we have a lot more power than we are led to believe. We need to wield it consciously, conscientiously, and responsibly. As long as we share the air with others, we must do out part to keep each other safe within our power (e.g., staying home when sick, masking in shared spaces, getting vaccinated).

Note: All my essays are stream of consciousness, mostly because I’m too tired and brainfogged with my LC and ME/CFS, but also because it’s a nice experiment to be (mostly) unfiltered. Thanks in advance for excusing any typos, spelling mistakes, etc.