The family of 10 that sat across from me in the Houston airport wore matching turquoise t-shirts with “FAMILY VACATION” emblazoned across the chest. That was the first thing that I noticed. The second: that none of them were wearing masks.
They were also complaining—loudly—about the idea of wearing masks at all. This, I understood: my own skin was red and raw under the surgical mask that I had donned for the past 6 hours.
But their complaints, as you might imagine, fell under another category. “I just don’t understand,” the mom said to the dad with a sharp East Texas lilt, as three of the toddlers toddled in my direction, “why they would be so rude to us for not wearing masks right now. I know we have to put them on for the flight. But all the dirty looks in the meantime? So rude.”
I was, at that very moment, preparing to scrunch up my face for a dirty look in their direction. I stopped. Someone had beaten me to the punch.
And anyways, if I was going to scowl at them, there were a hundred other people in the terminal similarly deserving. Mask compliance in the Houston airport? Dismayingly low! And as I write this, Houston is embarking on its fifth consecutive day of breaking its record for COVID-19 positive tests. The experts across the country, from former FDA commissioner Scott Gottlieb (a sensible center-right voice) to former CMS administrator Andy Slavitt (a knowledgeable though somewhat exhausting Twitter follow) agree: Houston is on the verge of a crisis like those seen in the early epicenters of New York and Michigan. Ben Taub, Houston’s foremost public hospital, has reached 97% ICU capacity, and Texas as a whole is quickly closing in on 150,000 cases.
And yet—still no masks. What to make of this blatant disregard for our new norm? The reflexive answer: that vast swaths of the American public are hopelessly anti-science, and that led by the example of the President of the United States, we have somehow managed to turn a blatantly obvious public health norm into our latest cultural battleground. That this same group of people is especially likely to be mistrustful of elite advice and admonishments.
This is a reflexive, easy answer, and there is some truth to it. Conveniently, it places all blame for the lack of mask compliance on the folks failing to wear the masks. Conveniently, this explanation also fails to consider the role that we in elite institutions might play in fostering resentment and mistrust. I have spoken with friends and family members, here in Texas and back in Pennsylvania, who have expressed confusion over the changing guidelines with respect to masks. First, health care experts told the American people that under no circumstances should they buy masks; masks were ineffective, or masks ought to be conserved for healthcare workers. But now: masks are a requirement. If you do not have a mask, you cannot participate in our New Normal. One might be forgiven for feeling a bit of whiplash.
Of course, to the medical student (much less the medical professional), this sort of evolving guidance is less head-scratching. COVID-19 is a new virus, and our knowledge about the virus expands each and every day; obviously the guidance is going to change. But to those less trained in virology, or scientific inquiry more broadly, this seemingly sudden reversal in mask policy is emblematic of the larger national confusion over COVID.
So yes, these folks in the Houston airport ought to be wearing masks. No question. But blaming them or publicly confronting them for their ignorance seems unproductive at best and demeaning at worst. Instead, our response—as medical students, but also as a healthcare field—should be to double down on education and humility. It is clear that we need to broadcast what we know about COVID from every platform that we have. But we should do so with a humility that recognizes that we have much to learn about this virus, and that the guidelines may yet change. It is unlikely we will reach everyone. But with everyday humility towards our families, friends, and strangers, we may reach someone. And that may save lives.
John Connolly (’23) is an MS2 at the University of Pennsylvania. He can be contacted at [email protected].
