Disclaimer: This largely speculative newsletter is not fact-checked. If you notice any errors, let me know.
What’s the deal with masks? Let’s start with a song.
The Future song “Mask Off” (listen to it!) released in early 2017, was hailed by a slightly-too-pretentious n+1 reviewer as “an inaugural processional for the Trump years.” But it actually works much better for Coronavirus. Behold the chorus:
Mask on (Off) (Ye), fuck it, mask off
Mask on (Off) (Ye), fuck it, mask off
Here, by the way, is an eerie image of the “mask” from the song’s 2017 music video:
So, masks—on or off? Like Future, we’re not totally sure.
2003’s SARS epidemic was a decidedly masks-on situation in the public imagination—all the major magazines ran covers like this one:
This time around, though, the popular narrative seems to have coalesced around “masks off,” even “masks bad!” Here’s Trump on the latest New Yorker cover, where the mask signifies not safety but depravity:
And here’s an official public health message in the US:
What we are being told now is that nobody should buy masks, because…they don’t work against Coronavirus. And also because health care workers and caregivers need them desperately, against Coronavirus. You don’t need to be Jacques Derrida to notice there’s something off here, and to notice an internal instability in some of the journalism around the “mask issue”:
Time magazine criticizes the mask but never says it won’t protect you: “The science…says that surgical masks won’t stop the wearer from inhaling small airborne particles, which can cause infection.” Sure, but what about large droplets? They are never mentioned. The article continues:“Nor do these masks form a snug seal around the face.” Okay… Two failures of the mask are listed, but the article never outright says they won’t decrease your risk of infection. Rather, it defers to a CDC, which “recommends surgical masks only for people who already show symptoms.”
An expert invited by the BBC says that masks “aren’t really much good” and “may give a false sense of security.” Again, no claim is made that they don’t work, only they don’t work as well as people might hope, and that doctors need them more than average people.
Here’s what seems obvious: Masks do work to an extent (not to a huge extent), but doctors need them more than you do, because doctors are in contact with sick people, and if too many doctors get sick, the healthcare system will start to collapse.
Of course, ideally anyone who wants a mask could get one, but because of a shortage (due partly to China-based supply chains), doctors need to get priority.
This makes sense and is true, but experts and public health officials have evidently decided it’s better to lie by omission and suggests masks are useless for the general public, as a way of keeping the supply from depleting too quickly. Once this message is out, uninformed journalists automatically dress it up as “science says.” It’s a well-intentioned misdirection if it is one, but ultimately what we are witnessing is mask austerity, which is harming regular people who want, and sometimes need, access to masks.
The “science says don’t buy a mask” narrative is also perfectly suited to a media ecosystem that is addicted to contrarian fact-checking and contradicting common sense. A great way to do this is by deferring to “science”: “You think X, but science shows Y.” In these stories, “science” is always represented as an authoritative, cock-sure monolith spoken for by a single expert with a PhD.
Having worked at journalism outlets with hard short-term deadlines, I’ve seen that finding an expert who can talk confidently about what you want them to talk about is like a weight off your shoulder—now, you can basically write your whole story with a single source. This causes those maddening “Science Says Smoking Makes you Less Attractive” articles that usually rely on a single fame-seeking study. Journalists hate ambiguity, especially in a crisis, and the aura of objectivity around “the scientists” seduces everyone from NPR to Greta Thunberg (she’s right, btw—just an example).
An amusing example of “the science says” discourse causing journalistic embarrassment has been the “don’t touch your face” meme that has gathered force over the past few weeks. We all know putting your hand in your mouth increases your risk, but, once again, journalists love turning basic advice from scientists into “Science Says Touching Your Face is Suicide”-level hyperbola. When it later turns out the truth is more subtle, you get an amusing juxtaposition like this one, from the Times:
This is not an anti-science post. But as a journalist, you usually have no way of evaluating whether what the expert says makes sense. And when the expert contradicts common sense, you kind of “write around” it to make it less noticeable. When you can only repeat conclusions but have no way of evaluating or even justifying them, your articles can feel a little hollow. And it shows. Masks off!
Links and thoughts:
To stay on the media criticism train, a Daily Beast headline claims Italy may be headed for “a baby boom” because of the current quarantine. What a cute and interesting claim, except that it turns out to be just something the author may or may not have heard some Italians joke about. Misleading!
What you really look/sound like when you call the virus COVID-19. (meme)
We have Italian Arugula in the fridge, in plastic wrapping. Not sure if we should open it—let me know if you have advice.
Berlin’s Kit Kat kink club, sure to be a transmission hotspot any day now, has made announced this policy:
All guests who come from a village, a small town, a federal state or another European country with a high infection rate - I simply ask you not to visit the club in this actual phase.
Why did he mention “village” specifically? Strange wording all around.
Here is a critical-theory argument “against quarantine” from a month ago, in New Inquiry. In some ways, the article hasn’t aged well now that it’s clear that China’s measures—a combination of traditional public health and draconian quarantine—were actually pretty effective. But I’m curious to see how the critical theory scene and its affiliated intellectuals and writers will interpret Coronavirus. So far, I’ve found almost nothing, which is surprising for such an era-defining social and political infrastructure crisis.
Disclaimer: This largely speculative newsletter is not fact-checked.