The “Is the cure is worse than the disease” debate is the same Red vs. Blue trope we’ve been arguing for decades
Covid-19 has, inarguably, set our world on fire. It has not only killed hundreds of thousands, but exposed inherent weaknesses in our economies, our medical infrastructure, and our very sociology. The debate about what to do fills nearly every moment of our now isolated, intensely focused attention.
No policy clash better summarizes this rift in American politics, and American thinking, than the, “Is the cure worse than the disease?” battle. Naturally, as with all else in America, this dispute is cleanly broken between party lines. Republicans, the source of the dispute, argue that preventing the spread of Covid is pointless if we destroy the country’s economy (and thus, presumably, the entire Union.) Democrats consider this line of reasoning to be amoral (if not immoral.)
It would seem that we’ve found a new reason to hate each other, but this is not true at all. This schism is the same ethical split that Republicans and Democrats have been fighting for decades. Simply put, it’s the “The Herd versus The Individual conundrum”. Democrats seek to protect the individual, even if they are a potential drain on The Herd’s resources. Republicans have always sought to protect The Herd, even if it means throwing some individuals to the wolves.
We see this in nearly every Red vs. Blue policy divide. In healthcare, while conservatives agree that pre-existing condition clauses and uninsured millions is certainly a bad thing, supporting a strong insurance market will — for most — be more beneficial. A market driven medical infrastructure, by the very definition of how a market works, means bad hospitals will be driven out of business only after enough people have received poor care, or been injured outright. But, in the long run, the market makes health care better for most people.
Democrats, conversely, always favor the needs of the individual. The Democrat vision for health infrastructure certainly means The Herd might suffer more expense, but no individual would be abandoned outright. Democratic plans for welfare means everyone in The Herd would certainly pay more in taxes — towards the goal of preventing any individual from becoming destitute.
In fact, any nuanced analysis of policy— be it welfare, gun control, voting regulations, Etc. — exposes this pattern. And the Coronavirus crisis fits neatly into the model. The Republican position is; by forging ahead, we prevent the country from suffering economic downfalls that will likely stay with us for decades. The cost? A few extra thousand individual deaths. The Democrats, of course, counter with, “That makes sense, except to those specific few thousand.”
Naturally, this argument really boils down to long-term versus short-term benefits for individuals. Conservatives will argue that (in the long run) protecting the economy will prevent less overall suffering for each individual, as long as you’re lucky enough not to be one of the dead. Liberals counter with; had we built a more sustainable economy in the first place, we wouldn’t have to make this choice at all.
And, of course, the moral implications of how many people should die in order to “save” the rest of us is something we can only assess on an individual level.
When viewing political policy through this lens, I personally tend to fall towards a Democratic view. Ironically, as much from a traditionally conservative pragmatism as from any moral stance. For me, it has always been an issue of, “Pay now, or pay later.”
As an example, conservatives ask, “Why should I pay for <perceived welfare burden>?”
My answer is, “We will anyway.”
We can pay now by providing food, housing, and health care for those unable (or, yes, even unwilling) to pay for it themselves. Or we can pay to support the prisons, pay for more police to handle increases in drugs and crime, and pay for medical costs passed on from emergency room losses. Many would say, “Prisons and misery teach them not to be a burden.” I would argue that the statistics simply don’t support that.
So, I prefer to pay now. Because the economic cost is the same, but the moral burden is less.
This financial kick-the-can-down-the-road mindset holds just as true for Covid-19. We can suffer financial losses now from lockdowns, or we can pay for them later in the form of propping-up an overwhelmed medical infrastructure, and suffering the economic cost of losing hundreds of thousands (perhaps millions) of workers. Do we continue with a one-paycheck-to-collapse, hand-to-mouth economy? Or do we build something more capable of surviving national crises — since this is unlikely to be the last?
Regardless of which path we take, the business landscape will end up completely redesigned — and so will our moral landscape.
