Ponderings During the Pandemic

Illustration by iStock/smartboy10

On leadership:
 
There are many definitions of leadership. One that I particularly like is from a short article by Susan Ward:

A simple definition is that leadership is the art of motivating a group of people to act toward achieving a common goal. 

I have been thinking a lot lately about how this pandemic has, perhaps out of necessity, turned so many people into leaders, and I think this definition of moving towards some common goal is at least a partial explanation. 

Ms. Ward goes on to say:

This leadership definition captures the essentials of being able and prepared to inspire others. Effective leadership is based upon ideas (whether original or borrowed), but won't happen unless those ideas can be communicated to others in a way that engages them enough to act as the leader wants them to act. 

As we engage in the currently mandated (and smart) practices of physical distancing and sheltering at home, all of us have had to find new ways to communicate. Almost all dialog is now being done through virtual modes. Whether one is a “digital native” or not, this is difficult. Even as a self-professed introvert, I have always preferred in-person conversations. I hate making phone calls. I hate photos of myself. And now with hour after hour on Zoom, I have to not only make multiple “calls” per day, but I am also constantly confronted with an image of myself "staring back" while I do so!

On exhaustion and compassion:
 
A colleague pointed me to a recent article in the Chronicle of Higher Education by Beckie Supiano entitled “Why is Zoom So Exhausting?” A few lines in particular caught my attention:

• What is it, exactly, that’s so depleting about interacting with a grid of faces on video chat? Heavy users and experts in psychology and communication point to a number of factors: The body language and other cues that we expect but can’t access; the way we monitor our own appearance; the stimulation of staring into faces at close range; the inability to take a break, move, or change our surroundings.

• Zoom .... feels like a hollow impersonation of a face-to-face classroom.

• Another factor in the exhaustion .... is that so many people want to project to others that they’re doing business as usual, even while the news is full of images of death, of illness, of economic downturn and collapse.

• I think the exhaustion is not technological fatigue... It’s compassion fatigue. 

Exhaustion, yes. Compassion, even more so. I have witnessed so much of it over the past several weeks. There are heartwarming stories on the news (although usually relegated to the final moments of the evening national news). I have heard about students who are spending countless hours volunteering at food banks or at centers distributing lunches to families since they cannot currently rely on school lunches. Perhaps more scary, are the ones working as trained aids at nursing homes, serving as surrogate family to so many elderly citizens right now. Both are thankful for still being able to continue their studies through asynchronous online courses and/or the flexibility of their professors. Faculty and students at Moravian are working round the clock to do 3-D printing of face shields and stethoscopes. Other employees sew masks or scour the shelves on campus to find personal protection equipment to donate to local healthcare workers. Faculty are holding one-on-one virtual counseling/listening sessions with students at all hours of the day to help them through much more than a tough assignment or anxiety about an upcoming exam. These students are facing an uncertain future and for many, facing death of loved ones for the first time. The list goes on.  Let's hope fatigue doesn't end these good and important deeds and acts of compassion.

On societas:

Which brings me back to my original thought this morning about leadership. So many people – some unexpected – have stepped into a leadership role since COVID struck. They are focused on that common goal that is about so much more than simply “getting through this” but also about helping others who are truly in need, about being a good neighbor or friend, about reconnecting (albeit in unusual ways). They are striving to hold together the social fabric even while “social distancing.” Google and Wikipedia tell me that the term “society” derives from the Latin word societas which itself was derived from socius (companion, friend, ally). We may be experiencing Zoom and compassion fatigue from an abundant supply of and demand for both. But given how politically and ideologically fractured our country seemed to be over the past few years, I find hope in this renewed focus on connections, on society.

Gifts from a Pandemic:

Earlier this month, Mary Hinton, President of the College of Saint Benedict penned a blog post in which she identified “Five Leadership Lessons Hidden in the Coronavirus Crisis:

1. The Gift of a Renewed Focus on Community
2. The Gift of Clarity on What Matters
3. The Gift of Strategic Surrender
4. The Gift of Listening
5. The Gift of Imperfection 

Read that list again and reflect on the concept of gifts -- from a pandemic no less. Despite President Hinton's (and our) "existing in a space of chaos," we find the ability to see the gifts in this difficult moment of history, lessons for us all to be leaders. I couldn’t have described what I have been witnessing more perfectly than President Hinton does, so I recommend that you read her piece.

On resilience:

This past week, Moravian College hosted its annual InFocus Symposium (virtually, via Zoom, of course). The keynote speaker was Eric Klinenberg and the theme of his talk was “Spaces of Equality: Facing a Pandemic.” Dr. Klinenberg studies the sociology of disasters, but more importantly (at least to me), he tries to understand resilience. (As someone who works in the areas of climate change and ecological restoration, I too focus on resilience as humans, societies and ecosystems strive to adapt to a new normal.) There were many interesting ideas to ponder from his comments, but one that particularly stood out to me was in response to a question relating to how different countries are responding to COVID-19 in comparison to the U.S. Dr. Klinenberg noted that it is difficult to have an effective public health policy.... when there are deep levels of social fragmentation. Countries that are reducing the number of cases of coronavirus are characterized by “social cohesion, high support for governance by experts, are driven by science, and promotion of public good.” Further, he added, “countries that seem more successful draw on a deeper well of solidarity.”

During a panel for the InFocus symposium that I facilitated last week about climate change action, the U.N. process, and civil society, the participants (current and former students) began imagining the concept of "building back better" after this pandemic. Their youthful vision of the possibilities that lie ahead were both optimistic and inspiring. As Dr. Klinenberg noted in his address, we (our society, the collective global "we") are at a turning point. As we reflect on leadership, compassion, and the gifts that this pandemic has yielded, as well as what might come next, there is indeed much to ponder about. Given the actions of students and colleagues that I have witnessed during this pandemic, there is also much to be hopeful about.

~~

p.s. One more random pondering (yes, I changed a verb to a noun) on this rainy Sunday. When Brad Pitt (OMG) can do a humorous impersonation of Dr. Anthony Fauci (a scientist and most definitely a leader) on Saturday Night Live, followed by a heartfelt tribute to him, you know that we are living in unusual times.

What is normalcy these days?

Was that a chewink! that I just heard? That zree sound, although not quite right, had to have been the first-of-year towhee to arrive on our property in 2020. This Eastern Towhee or Pipilo erythrophthalmus (what a name) wasn’t getting his "drink-your-tea" song quite right but given that he had probably flown quite some distance overnight, I cut him a little slack. Plus, I am very happy to have him back for the spring and summer, even if he seems to have arrived a week or two early.

Eastern Towhee (photo by Dave Husic)

There is very little routine in our schedules these days in this new era of COVID-19. Our lives have become filled with uncertainty, fear, and perhaps, for many, even dread. The only certain thing is that we are all experiencing too much screen time. The Husic household is doing online teaching (or learning), too many Zoom meetings, and grading student work sent in digital formats. It has become challenging to separate work from personal time when you are home, 24-7. However, because, like so many others, I am now obligated to from home, I have the luxury to sneak out for a walk or to do a bit of birding during the day. It was during my morning walk today that I heard my feathered friend’s invitation to tea.

Is it “shelter in place” or “take refuge”? The latter sounds slightly more soothing. I am very fortunate to live on some acreage where I can sneak out the backdoor and still easily practice my isolation/social distancing/physical separation from other Homo sapiens, while enjoying the local biodiversity. Since we head into April this week, the species of plants and birds that will greet me each day will steadily increase. I have already welcomed the Spring Peepers, Wood Frogs, and American Woodcocks, along with daffodil, crocus, hellebore, hyacinth, coltsfoot, winter aconite and Magnolia stellate (star magnolia) blooms. I know, I should be more consistent with my Latin name usage. Perhaps this is something to work on if we are sheltering for a very long time.

Over the past several weeks, I have developed the bad habit of checking the dashboard set up by John Hopkins University a few times each day. We are closing in on three-quarters of a million “official” cases of coronavirus globally, but we all know that is a gross underestimate of the real tally. Odd that as a scientist, I am fascinated by numbers and graphs, but have long struggled with binomial nomenclature.

This semester, I am teaching an environmental health course which is an interesting way to apply my environmental and biomedical training and experience. Back in January – week #2 of the course to be exact – the students and I started tracking the coronavirus outbreak in China. Nothing like a real-time case study to raise all sorts of interesting questions from students about the growing zoonotic threats from human-wildlife contact, habitat disruption, and the illegal wildlife trade. With all the sophisticated data tracking that is available, it was also a good way to teach 21st century epidemiology (compared to the dreaded textbook chapter) and it certainly is an update from the early mapping that John Snow did during the 1854 cholera outbreak in Soho, London. Apple watches, Fitbits, and smart thermometers record body temperature (including fevers), resting-heart-rate and sleep-duration data, and we can track movement of people via cell phone signals. But I digress.

Perhaps we were a little too close to the information; as a class, we quickly predicted that a) this was going to impact us (as in in the U.S.) and b) that as a country, we were not doing the necessary preparations or precautions. In other words, we were going to be statistics in that case study. I wonder how many of our public health and nursing students are now rethinking their career choices as they realize that the textbook content can be not only relevant, but *real*.

~~~

Set up a routine. Try to find some semblance of normalcy in your days. Such is the advice that is being shared. Getting outdoors provides some exercise and fresh air, a reprieve from the screens, and gets me out of my sweatpants. It is also important for my mental health. Daily, I can see things getting greener – those unique hues of spring green, prettier than any in a Crayola box. Bulbs and some trees are already coming into bloom and migratory birds are starting to return. We have already had early visitors: a Tree Swallow, House Wren and, today, the Towhee.

While these things do provide some escape from the case fatality rates and depressing media feeds, they are far from normal. Anyone from eastern Pennsylvania knows that we had an unusually mild winter and that the months of February and March were much warmer than normal.

According to NOAA Global Climate Report for February 2020:

Averaged as a whole, February 2020 was near-record warm with a global land and ocean surface temperature departure from average of 1.17°C (2.11°F) above the 20th century average. Only February 2016 was warmer. This month marked the 44th consecutive February and the 422nd consecutive month with temperatures, at least nominally, above the 21th century average. The 10 warmest Februarys have occurred since 1998. The February 2020 temperature departure from average was also the third highest monthly temperature departure from average for any month in the 1,682-month record. Only March 2016 (+1.31°C / +2.36°F) and February 2016 (+1.26°C / +2.27°F) had a higher temperature departure.

This follows a similar situation from January:

The global land and ocean surface temperature for January 2020 was the highest in the 141-year record, with a temperature departure from average of 1.14°C (2.05°F) above the 20th century average. This value was only 0.02°C (0.04°F) higher than the now second highest January temperature departure from average set in 2016. The four warmest Januaries on record have occurred since 2016...

And from 2019:

The year 2019 was the second warmest year in the 140-year record, with a global land and ocean surface temperature departure from average of +0.95°C (+1.71°F). This value is only 0.04°C (0.07°F) less than the record high value of +0.99°C (+1.78°F) set in 2016 and 0.02°C (0.04°F) higher than the now third highest value set in 2015 (+0.93°C / +1.67°F).

I know that this sounds really technical. Remember, this scientist likes numbers and graphs. I also pay attention to phenology – the timing of seasonal events such as bloom times and first dates of arrival of migrating birds in spring. The impact of this year’s mild winter in the east was obvious when I started hearing about reports of cherry blossoms opening at the end of February. According to the National Park Service, the full (peak) bloom was in mid-March, thirteen days ahead of 2019. Historically, the National Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington, DC had been taking place during the first two weeks in April. [1]

In general, people appreciate an early spring. Why else would so many people tune in to see what Punxsutawney Phil predicts on February 2nd? This year, we hope that the warming weather will slow the nasty virus that is controlling our lives right now. But the early signs of spring that I watch year after year are unsettling to me. The early arrivals and bloom times are not normal.

Years ago, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change said in their 2007 Nobel Prize winning work the 4th Assessment Report:

Phenology …. is perhaps the simplest process in which to track changes in the ecology of species in response to climate change.

This year, 2020, will go down in history as the year after which nothing was the same. The pandemic we are all watching in horror is only one part of the global change in our future.




1. Chung U, Mack L, Yun JI, Kim S-H (2011) Predicting the Timing of Cherry Blossoms in Washington, DC and Mid-Atlantic States in Response to Climate Change. PLoS ONE 6(11): e27439. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0027439; available here. 

Some Covid-19 Epidemiological Data and Personal Reflections

Because I am teaching Environmental Health this semester (for public health undergraduate majors), the class has been tracking the coronavirus (COVID-19) outbreak all semester. Nothing like a case study in real time. I thought I would share some of the epidemiological data that we have been watching. As scary as it can be at times, as a scientist, I value evidence.

When we first started paying attention in mid January, the only cases of coronavirus (not yet called COVID-19) were in China. The map from John Hopkins University showing the extent of the outbreak looks very different now than it did back in January. It looked very different a week ago.

From the JHU CORVID tracking dashboard

The confirmed cases from China are represented in the graph below as they emerged over time (the orange data points/line).

Actual Cases of Corvid (China in orange, elsewhere in yellow, recovered in green). Data from JHU

The green data points represent the number of people who have recovered to date. Fortunately, after the initial lag, that graph is going up now. Reports from the Wuhan region of China signal that they are through the worst of this about three months after the initial cases of the disease (although there were probably some earlier cases). You can see this in the flattening of the orange curve.

According to the data visualized by John Hopkins University (collected from a variety of global sources including the World Health Organization), as of March 16th at 6:33 pm, there were 181,377 confirmed cases globally (this is almost 12,000 more than at 11:30 last night). There are currently 7133 official deaths reports (vs. 6513 at 11:30 last night). This is the "Buthcher's Bill" to use a reference from And The Band Played On, the movie about the early days of HIV/AIDS.

The yellow data points in the graph represent the cases outside of China (i.e. the rest of the world). I call your attention to the relative rate of increase in these cases versus the trends from China (the sharp slope of the yellow line compared to the orange one). There are likely many cases that were missed on the front end of this outbreak and many more that haven't been confirmed in parts of the world, including the U.S., due to a shortage of tests.

In the U.S., presumptive cases are documented through tests done locally; confirmed or definitive cases are confirmed through the CDC. So a) there is a lag, and b) many people who have symptoms are not being tested, so - at least for the U.S. - our numbers significantly underestimate the extent of the outbreak.

The image below (also from the JHU source) shows the number of new cases confirmed per day (in red) and recovered (in green). The spike on February 13th was due to a revised case definition in China.

Daily record of new cases of COVID-19 (red) or recovered (green). Data from JHU.

Note that the biggest one day jump so far occurred today, March 16th. The recent spikes are simply massive jumps in new cases - not a redefinition of the disease. In the past 24 hours, 368 people died in Italy alone.

Now the less objective observation: Having taught the history of disease in the past, including how societies respond and the impacts of inequality, it isn't surprising to see some of the behaviors we are all witnessing. It was the same in the time of the bubonic plague outbreaks and when the new disease we now know as HIV/AIDS first emerged. Some people rise to the occasion and show empathetic leadership, generosity and kindness. Others are greedy, self-centered, fearful, willing to profit from the hard luck of others, delusional (the deniers) or simply just jerks.