Covid#27 - It's back

By the time I wake up tomorrow, England will be in lockdown again.  A dejected sounding Boris announced his plan on Saturday with all the enthusiasm my students have for their weekly RE lesson, and Parliament voted for it this afternoon.  I’d written to my MP, Tobias Ellwood, urging him to vote against it but it wasn’t to be. 

In the spring, I was lucky to spend the first lockdown with my parents in Cornwall; this time, I shall be at home, alone in Bournemouth.  This lockdown won’t be the same though, as school will remain open so my daily routine won’t change much and I’ll be as busy with work as ever.  Obviously, there are things I will miss.  Momentarily earlier, I caught myself planning to invite friends for dinner in the next week or two, then realised that is off the cards for the foreseeable future.  My dad turns seventy at the end of this week and I had intended to spend the weekend with him and my mum in Devon, hopefully also seeing my brother’s family.  There were going to be fireworks!  All that is cancelled too.  Plenty of people have had to change their birthday plans this year so dad’s philosophical about what will be muted celebrations, but of course it’s disappointing.  I’ve become quite a gym bunny in recent months and I’ll miss my workouts there but I live by the beach so I’ll give running along the prom another go, although motivating myself on cold, dark November mornings will be challenging.  I’m fortunate; I doubt this second lockdown will have a significant impact on me.

It is, however, going to have a devastating impact on many, many other people.  I see that in some of the students in my class.  This week, they’ve talked about the after-school activities they won’t be able to do, the friends they won’t be able to see, the grandparents they will miss and their concerns for their parents’ jobs.  Their fear of the virus is heightened once again and anxieties are raised; one boy, for example, has become withdrawn and quiet, struggles to focus on his learning, and is visibly worried.  A friend who lives with his aged parents broke down in tears as he recalled the loneliness, fear and depression he felt during the first lockdown, which he now dreads once again.  Tonight, there will be people all around the country – far less fortunate than me – trying to prepare themselves for another lonely month, separated from family and friends, seemingly trapped in their homes.  For many, the cost of another lockdown in terms of their well-being and mental health will be unbearable.

The cost to young people is particularly calamitous.  They have already suffered educational chaos with the six-month closure of school to most, the dismal handling of their exam results and their imprisonment in their halls on their return to university.  Working in industries like tourism, leisure and hospitality – all of which have been hit hard by Covid restrictions – many young people have found themselves unable to work, furloughed or unemployed.  Those entering the jobs market for the first time find it impossibly challenging.  I’ve listened on podcasts to an aerospace graduate devastated at not even being able to find work even in supermarkets and the despairing mother of a young man with mild learning difficulties who lost the critical job he had and loved in his local café.  I could have wept.  Even after-school sports activities, with the vital social opportunities they offer, are to be shut down, despite that the same children are able to attend school together.  Like so much of the Government’s response to this pandemic, it makes no sense.  It is young people that are bearing the disproportionate cost of this crisis and their plight is only worsened by another lockdown.

It doesn’t stop there either; the eye-watering debt we are accruing will be largely born by the young people who are already paying so much, and probably by their children and grandchildren too.  I am terrified by the economic cost of the pandemic: falling GDP, rising unemployment, the collapse of so many businesses and runaway Government spending.  Of course, some financial support to individuals, families and business is imperative to maintain a functioning society, economy and way-of-life, but difficult choices soon need confronting (if they didn’t already) as it becomes increasingly unaffordable.  Another lockdown only exacerbates an already dire economic outlook for future generations.  Just as there is a moral duty on us all to slow the spread of coronavirus and protect lives, so there is a moral duty to guarantee the economic well-being of our children and grandchildren.

Readers of my previous Covid-themed blogs will know that I’ve never been a fan of all the Covid rules (‘Stop telling me what to do!’ was the title of one from June).  I did, however, accept the restrictions of the first lockdown, necessitated as they were by the scale of the emergency brought about by the initial onslaught of coronavirus.  I was wearing a face-mask long before it became compulsory; I respect social distance; I clean fastidiously; and I do all the other sensible things I can to help suppress the virus.  I have, however, become increasingly resentful of the Government’s laughably unenforceable attempts to control so much of my life.  Take my gym, for example.  It is surely one of the safest places anyone could be: equipment has been shut down to ensure social distancing; screens have been erected between each machine; we all follow one-way systems; staff are forever cleaning; and I and other responsible gym-goers spray and wipe down everything like never before.  As far as I’m aware (and surely I would be), there has been no outbreak of Covid at my gym.  Despite this and all the measures that have been taken, we’re told we can no longer go there.   I take exception to being treated like a child – grounded by Boris like a naughty boy.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m a grown-up!  Give me information about the virus, the risks and the measures I should take, and then trust me to do the right thing.

If there really is a need for a second lockdown, it’s because of the Government’s failure to get a grip of this crisis.  It has lurched from one short-lived plan to another, its rules have become more and more confusing as they have changed so quickly, and its messaging has been hopeless.  NHS Test and Trace is a long way from the world-beating system we were promised six months ago.  500,000 tests per day by the end of October were promised by Boris, yet only 280,000 were carried out, while in mid-October only 15% of those tested were getting their results within twenty-fours (as he had also promised they would), and less than 60% of close contacts were being successfully traced.  The Government has no effective overall long-term strategy to manage this crisis, which is why we now risk a cycle of repeated and catastrophic lockdowns.

Boris was right to say that a second national lockdown would be a disaster and it’s one that can be laid firmly at the door of Number Ten.