Via
The Globe and Mail:
Fears rise in China about bird flu passing between humans. Excerpt and then a comment:
As the number of cases of a deadly strain of bird flu rises in China, health officials there are investigating the possibility that the disease has spread from human to human.
World Health Organization spokesman Gregory Hartl cautioned Thursday that there was no conclusive evidence that the new virus, known as H7N9, has been transmitted between people, but said investigators have homed in on three families in Shanghai and two young children in Beijing as possible examples of human-to-human transmission.
The development followed comments a day earlier by a Chinese expert on the disease who said about 40 per cent of people infected with the virus claimed not to have had contact with poultry, which has been suspected to be the primary source of infections. The expert, Feng Zijian, director of the health emergency centre at the Chinese Centre for Disease Control and Prevention, also played down the possibility of “effective” transmission between people.
I don't really object to this report; it's a straightforward account of H7N9 near the end of its third week in public. That is, it's more about people's emotions than about the new virus.
After eight years of following first H5N1 and then a host of other diseases, I recognize the routine phrases: "experts fear," "played down," "suspected." This is how we try to explain new disease threats to populations that are as clue-free about disease as Europeans in the 14th century when the Black Death arrived.
As an educator, I blame myself more than I probably should. But it does raise questions when computer-literate citizens of spacefaring nations don't believe in vaccinations. How did these people coast through a decade or more of formal education without learning that washing your hands is more than a ritual?
Given such bovine ignorance of the microscopic world, it's understandable that scare language is needed as a cattle prod to get the livestock moving toward the veterinarian. But it has its limits, especially when it shades into pandemic porn.
By "porn" I don't mean gross sexual acts, but a natural human tendency to enjoy imagining extreme experiences of all kinds: teetering on the edge of cliffs, fighting a duel against the best swordsman in France, growing a date palm in northern Saskatchewan. We know it won't happen if have a scrap of common sense, but still...just imagine.
Some of us think of a severe pandemic as just such an extreme experience. I've been thinking of it ever since, as a boy, I read George R. Stewart's remarkable 1949 SF novel Earth Abides, which imagines a disease that wipes out over 95 per cent of us (and "secondary kill" finishes off most of the survivors). Horrible, but also thrilling, and an opportunity to start over. If you shopped fast, you could get a lot of good stuff, free, before the rats did.
Pandemic porn is even a genre in literature and film, and it has unfortunately shaped public attitudes toward the real thing. When H1N1 hit us four years ago, the media response reminded me of an old Charles Addams cartoon: A Patent Office bureaucrat stands pointing a strange kind of weapon out an open window. He looks scornfully at the inventor and says, "Death ray, fiddlesticks! It doesn't even slow them down."
The failure of H1N1 to kill millions (not to mention the absence of zombies in the streets) was a severe blow to global health in general—a blow based not on scientific fact, but on the stupid entertainments of Hollywood.
In the early years of this blog I ran into a lot of that "omygod we're all gonna die" attitude. People were stocking up on food and water to endure months of isolation in their homes, fighting off their less-provident neighbours. It was remarkably like the fallout-shelter debates of my youth in the 1950s and 60s.
Granted, everyone should be ready to live for a few days off the water and power grid in a disaster, but this was ridiculous. After all, we're living in at least two ongoing pandemics right now: the 7th cholera pandemic, which began in Peru in 1991, and the HIV/AIDS pandemic, which began in the early 1980s. Neither, alas, shows much sign of abating, but somehow we soldier on through them. In fact, we pay them entirely too little attention, just as we ignore the millions of children who die of diarrhea and pneumonia every year.
H5N1 first interested me precisely because of the scare rhetoric of "experts fear," added onto my boyhood interest in stuff that blew up real good. But this blog is a self-educational venture, and it's taught me that the experts don't fear zombies in the streets—they fear people getting sick and dying out of sheer ignorance.
Like H5N1, H7N9 is interesting because it's new and we have no hard-won immunity to it. We know "naive" populations like the natives of the Americas died in scores of millions after exposure to unfamiliar diseases like smallpox and measles. We don't like the idea of that happening to us. But it's still kind of a thrill, unless we put it out of our heads and refuse to think about it at all, just as right-thinking people don't like to imagine sexual pornography.
With every health scare we also get the pandemic-porn addicts, some of whom have been waiting since SARS if not before for the aorta-busting orgasm of the Big One. They remind me of the classic Beyond the Fringe sketch of a little cult gathered to await the end of the world. When it doesn't arrive, their leader tells them, "Never mind, lads—same time tomorrow. We must get a winner one day."
We are still far too ignorant of H7N9 to judge whether it's going to evolve from a minuscule infection to a serious public-health hazard, let alone to a severe pandemic. When we imagine it as a pandemic, we are fighting all the old wars of the Spanish flu, of the Black Death, of smallpox in the post-Columbian Americas.
But what little we do know suggests that it's strangely different from the influenzas we're used to fighting, and the global health system has responded with a coherent ferocity that I find both fascinating and encouraging. After surviving all those earlier wars, we have learned something. We are not to be fooled around with by some upstart virus.
We will be an even more formidable foe when our experts explain to our politicians that "doctor's orders" is more than just an old expression. Dr. Zhong Nanshan and the Hong Kong experts effectively bullied the Chinese Communist Party into sanitary behaviour that ended SARS and slowed down H5N1. (Lenin in 1918 said: "What's the point of a revolution if you can't shoot people?" And what's the point of a medical revolution if you can't vaccinate them?)
It's not so much the public that needs to be scared as the public's rulers. So far, China's seem to be adequately scared, and fewer than a hundred H7N9 cases have moved 1.4 billion people into action. In the process they may well stop the progress of H7N9, but with luck they may also reduce the incidence of many other diseases.
And if a little pandemic porn helps all of us protect our health, and outgrow the need for such porn, then maybe it's worthwhile.
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