I ran into a friend, Robin Baxter, yesterday morning as he was walking his dog and I was getting set to walk mine. He asked when Leslie and I were leaving Arizona for Connecticut, and I told him Tuesday, adding that it looked like we were getting out just in time. The state escaped the worst of the pandemic in March, April, and the first half of May; but since Governor Ducey lifted restrictions on May 15, Covid19 cases have risen like the temperature in the desert (when it can go from 45 to 95 degrees in two hours). “Yeah, it was only matter of time before Arizona caught up to,..” Robin began, and paused for a second…”well, to Arizona.” A cryptic comment easily decrypted by anyone who has lived here for more than a few months. Eager for political as well as for other reasons to avert disaster in the state’s economy, mindful of his constituents’ ethos of rugged individualism, Ducey (known to his detractors as Governor Dufus) dithered before imposing measures to mitigate the spread of the virus, took almost no steps to enforce them, and then compounded those errors by relaxing them too early. Many — too many — Arizona citizens, equally eager for a return to normality, chafing at what they regarded as limits to their liberty, took that to mean that the worst was behind them and stopped practicing social distancing and wearing masks in shops, stores, and state parks. The result: confirmed cases have rocketed to 29,852 as of this morning, an increase of 1,412 from the previous day. In the same 24-hour period, deaths rose by 32, from 1,065 to 1,095; and hospitals have reported that their ICU beds are at 80 percent capacity, triggering emergency responses.

Not that Arizona is unique — sharp spikes are occurring in other states like California, Utah, and Texas, which set hospitalization records this week — more than 2,000 a day for three days straight. In the nation as a whole, there are now 2,079,199 confirmed cases and 115,665 deaths — the highest in the world. If the current death rate — 800 people a day —  holds through the summer, the U.S. will have lost 200,000 lives by Labor Day. Reflect on that statistic for a moment, and imagine a war in which we suffer 200,000 killed in action in six months. That’s roughly half what we lost in four years during the Second World War.

No one can predict what effect the massive street protests in the past two weeks will have on the virus’s spread. I can’t help but think, even though most demonstrators were wearing masks, that it won’t be insignificant. Arguments that police brutality toward African-Americans also constitute a public health crisis struck me as a bit strained, a kind of mirror-image of arguments by right-wing protestors that lockdowns constituted an economic crisis that justified taking to the streets. Moreover, it’s been shown that African-Americans suffer more infections and deaths from the virus than whites; so if the rallies continue, as planned, do not be surprised if more black Americans get sick and possibly die from Covid 19. I anticipate the responses that statement will get from readers of this blog. I am not indifferent to issues like police brutality and racism, I was as outraged and disgusted as anyone by the murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis; and having taken part in a demonstration myself, I would be a hypocrite to suggest that protestors should stay home in the name of preserving public health. Racism is America’s original sin, it’s a social and cultural virus, and it’s likely that massive street rallies like those we’ve seen are an essential first step toward its containment and eventual eradication.

But let’s not kid ourselves that it won’t come at a cost. Let’s not kid ourselves that we aren’t making a choice between evils. Lockdowns help control the physical contagion, but cause enormous economic pain; relieving the economic pain causes the contagion to spread. Ain’t nothing free in the land of the free. It should go without saying that we would not be facing such conundrums had the initial response to Covid19 been orderly, rational, and coherent, had the Trump administration and its cult followers not dismissed it as a left-wing plot to undermine his re-election, or as a phenomenon that would soon, in the President’s words, vanish “like a miracle.” The contagion would have struck us no matter who was in the White House; but, as countries like South Korea and Germany have shown, it would not have exacted so terrible a toll.  The Age of Miracles passed a long, long time ago.