Shared experience and human connection
We are living through something unprecedented. The “social distancing” that is being encouraged to reduce the spread of the coronavirus known as COVID-19 is only accelerating the process of us removing ourselves from one another. Even more so than it already has, our online existence will become an elevated representation of who we are in the weeks ahead. Our in person selves will fall out of practice.
None of this is to say that the social distancing won’t work—to slow or even stop the spread of the virus more quickly than it might have if we didn’t alter our behavior. And there are points of light. to be observed, if you look around. People who are out in the world seem somehow friendlier—as if in acknowledgement that we are all sharing this experience together. My local farmer’s market is still being held today. In a spirit of resilience, they are holding it outside in the parking lot instead of inside the garden center where it is normally held. And they won’t do tastings today (which is a shame!). But, good for them, they are still holding the event. To make this exception even more remarkable, you can expect to find locally grown foods there, frequently being offered up by the same hands who brought them in from the field. Fresh vegetables, fish, and baked goods for sale on crude wooden tables—perhaps not much different from Ridderzaal Market! But notably, you will not find the cans of beans and rolls of toilet paper there, which are being cleaned off the stark metal shelves of our grocery stores.
But still . . . I feel as though this scare will shift us further away from personal contact in a measurable way. In my author circles (online, I should add!), people are jokingly suggesting that book sales might rise as we isolate ourselves and turn to entertainment options we can find in our own homes. I’m sure Netflix and Amazon will thrive, as a consequence. But I’m afraid that the impact on the sale of books is likely to be negligible. That said, books have always been something of a solitary affair. Living vicariously within a story you are reading is an escape. It’s a way to meet new friends and even enemies from the safety of your favorite chair. But I have faith that our ever more global culture will ensure that our human connections are restored when this storm passes. And maybe things will be forever different. Maybe we will remember that we shared this crisis together. Shared experience is powerful social glue. It’s why Potterheads and Game of Throne fans can establish an immediate and real connection with one another when they meet for the first time as strangers.
Here’s hoping.
Thank you for reading . . .