I had about come to the conclusion not to write anything on the current crisis. This was because I am not an expert. There are plenty of experts, and you should listen to them over me, and I didn’t want to detract from what they’re saying by adding my own take and spin. I also didn’t want to write something because, in five attempts so far, every time I’ve sat down to write something out, double checking my sources and cross referencing my information, the situation has changed so as to render what I was about to say outdated and irrelevant, which is incredibly frustrating. The last thing I want to do is give advice contrary to what’s being said.
But it looks like we might be heading towards a situation where the advice is stabilizing, if only because when the advice is “shut down everything”, you can’t really escalate that. And the data suggests that we are moving towards a long war here. It’s hard to say, but I’ve seen reports with numbers ranging from a few weeks, to eighteen months. And whether we manage to skate by lightly after a few weeks at home, or whether the first two years of the 2020s go down in history akin to the time of the Bubonic Plague, we need to start understanding the problems with which we find ourselves dealing in a long term context. Before I delve into what’s going on, and what seems likely to happen, I’m going to spend a post reviewing terminology.
I wasn’t going to die on this hill, but since we’ve got time, I’ll mention it anyway. Despite begrudgingly ceding to the convention myself, I don’t like calling this “Coronavirus”. That’s not accurate; Coronavirus is not the name of a virus. The term refers to a family of viruses, so named for protein chains which resemble the outermost layer of the surface of the sun. You know, the spiky, wavy bit that you would add to the picture after coloring in the circle. There are a lot of viruses that fit this description, to the point that the emoji for virus (ie: 🦠 ) could be said to be a generic Coronavirus. In addition to a number of severe respiratory illnesses, such as SARS, and now COVID-19, Coronaviruses also cause the common cold.
They’re so common, we usually don’t bother naming them unless there’s something unusual about them. The World Health Organization was a bit slow to come out with its name for this one; and in the interim the media ran with the word they had. Despite my instinct, I’m not going to tell you you need to get up and change everything you’re saying and remove posts where you said Coronavirus, just be aware of the distinction. We’ve gotten to a point in social discourse where the distinction is academic, the same way everyone understands that “rodent problem” refers to rats or mice rather than beavers. But do be aware that if you’re reading scientific journals, if it doesn’t specify, it’s as likely that that they’re referring to the common cold as COVID-19.
The term COVID-19 is designated by the World Health Organization, short for COronaVIrus Disease, 2019. WHO guidelines are explicitly crafted to design names which are short, pronounceable, and sufficiently generic so as to not “incite undue fear”. These guidelines specifically prohibit using occupational or geographic names, for both ethical and practical reasons. Ethically, calling a disease specific to an area or people-group, even when it doesn’t imply blame, can still create stigma. Suppose a highly infectious epidemic was called “Teacher’s Disease”, for instance. Suppose for the sake of this that teachers are as likely to be carriers as everyone else, but the first confirmed case was a teacher, so everyone just rolls with that.
Even if everyone who uses and hears this term holds teachers completely blameless (not that they will; human psychology being what it is, but let’s suppose), people are still going to change their behaviors around teachers. If you heard on the news that Teacher’s Disease was spreading and killing people around the world, would you feel comfortable sending your kids to school? What about inviting your teacher friend over while your grandmother is staying with you? Would you feel completely comfortable sitting with them on the bus? Maybe you would, because you’re an uber-mind capable of avoiding all biases, but do you think everyone else will feel the same way? Will teachers be treated fairly in this timeline, by other people and society? And perhaps more crucially, do you think teachers are likely to single themselves out for treatment knowing that they’ll have this label applied to them?
There are other practical reasons why using geographic or occupational names are counterproductive. Even if you have no concern for stigma against people, these kinds of biases impact behavior in other ways. For instance, if something is called Teacher’s Disease, I might imagine that I, as a student, am immune. I might ignore my risk factors, and go out and catch the virus, or worse still, I might ignore symptoms and spread the virus to other people. I mean, really, you expect me, a healthy young person, to cancel my spring break beach bash because of something from somewhere else, which the news says only kills old timers?
You don’t have to take my word for it either, or even the word of The World Health Organization. You can see this play out through history. Take the Flu Pandemic of 1918. Today, we know that the virus responsible was H1N1, and based on after the fact epidemiology, appeared first in large numbers in North America. Except, it wasn’t reported due to wartime censorship. Instead, it wouldn’t hit the press until it spread to Europe, to neutral Spain, where it was called Spanish Flu. And when the press called it that, the takeaway for most major governments was that this was a Spanish problem, and they had bigger issues than some foreign virus. The resulting pandemic was the worst in human history.
I am not going to tell you what words you can or can’t use. Ours is a free society, and I have no special expertise that makes me uniquely qualified to lecture others. But I can say, from experience, that words have power. The language you use has an impact, and not always the impact you might intend. At times like this we all need to be mindful of the impact each of us has on each other.
Do your part to help combat stigma and misinformation, which hurt our efforts to fight disease. For more information on COVID-19, visit the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention webpage. To view the specific guidelines on disease naming, go to the World Health Organization.