We may end up with some odd political inversions by the time the coronavirus runs its course in the United States.
A left-of-center friend of mine observed with frustration that many people are not practicing anything resembling individual responsibility during this crisis. They weren’t prepared for an emergency or potential disaster of any kind, they rushed out and stockpiled toilet paper, they hit the bars last weekend and filled them up, and they clearly believe that whatever happens to them, the government will rescue them if things get bad. They’re lamenting and raging about the decisions by President Trump, but not taking any — or perhaps sufficient — actions on their own to mitigate the risk to themselves and their loved ones.
A lot of conservatives are pointing out that a circumstance of a contagious and potentially deadly virus raises serious questions about what we owe our fellow citizens. Sure, the coronavirus might pose only a mild threat to you, but do you owe it to senior citizens or the immunocompromised to alter your behavior because of the risk to them?
We on the right have built up a tolerance — no pun intended — to pleas to enact policy changes “for the children.” We are used to arguments from the left that certain laws must be changed for “the greater good” that usually involve restricting the rights or seizing the wealth of particular groups for the benefit of other groups. Your law-abiding gun ownership is some sort of threat to others, your SUV is destroying the environment, and your expression of views that offend others is a public menace that must be restricted and punished, while speech that offends you must always be protected by the First Amendment. It seems like every week, some environmentalist is telling you to stop eating meat and to start eating bugs to save the planet. After a while, it gets easy to conclude that any call for public sacrifice is a con job, a desire by some hypocritical elites to get you to accept fewer rights and privileges than them.
In the vast majority of these cases, the connection between your actions and the purported threat are tenuous at best. Your decision to eat a cheeseburger will not be the difference between human civilization thriving or collapsing. Your ownership of a gun is no threat to anyone unless you’re a criminal. Your expression of a view that offends someone is not the same as burning a cross on someone else’s lawn.
But in the circumstances of the coronavirus, normally innocuous activities — going out in public, shaking hands, interacting with strangers — suddenly could have serious consequences for our fellow citizens. We’re used to hearing disingenuous cries that “people will die” if a particular law isn’t passed or budget cuts are enacted. But with this particular virus, yeah, people will die if a sufficient number of people are careless about the potential spread. It’s going to be a difficult balance, and we’re going to have to feel our way through. You would have to have a heart of stone to not sympathize with the perspective of the leaders of Hill Restaurant Group, who wanted to avoid layoffs and bankruptcy and defy Washington, D.C. mayor Muriel Bowser’s directive to shut down restaurants. But how much life-and-death risk to the elderly and immunocompromised (and not just them!) is acceptable to keep a group of restaurants afloat?
The Americans with the most faith in government may find themselves reevaluating their views after witnessing the hard limits upon the power of government in the absence of a culture of individual responsibility. And the Americans who most prioritized individual liberty may find themselves wondering if the communitarians had a point, even if they weren’t right about every detail of policy.