The world is in the throes of the most serious health crisis in a century. In the blink of an eye, societies have seen the most basic norms overridden, the ‘normal’ put on hold. Public and private, friend and foe, necessity and luxury: we’ve each been forced to reassess the simplest of values that shape our everyday lives.

It has quickly become standard practice to seek to understand what’s happening through the language of war; we’re in a battle against an invisible adversary and must pull together, follow the advice of the informed, the experts, and do our best to aid those on the front lines.

This metaphor illustrates the historic seriousness of the challenge we face; as the disease spreads indiscriminately across the planet, so much of what dominated conversation just a few weeks ago seems inadequate to explain what we’re going through. Obsolete, even. Nowadays, how convincing is the claim that this is a ‘Chinese virus’, a problem that can be pigeon-holed like Ebola as of foreign, alien concern and doing?

No matter our perspective on politics, we individually or collectively seem to acknowledge that there is no going back – and that this crisis will change every one of us.

1945 was a defining moment in 20th-century history by almost any metric, and many of the choices made in the space of a pretty short time thereafter continue to impact the world we were born into and still navigate today.

Historians refer to a ‘post-war consensus’, a set of core principles that underpinned politics – particularly in Britain – for decades after 1945. Serious political opponents would attack each other on other issues, or on the interpretation of these fundamentals, but never seriously question their validity and necessity (at least not publicly).

In 2020, we have our own consensus  – a global consensus, a European consensus and a Maltese consensus. It’s certainly never static, and while it may not be observed as a whole, we can recognise elements of it. Think of ‘public and private, friend and foe, necessity and luxury’. How will coronavirus change them? And who will we let define how that change is brought about? And what will be rendered ‘common sense’ once the first wave of the virus is deemed to have taken its course?

These are questions we don’t have answers to yet. We’re not out of this crisis, of course, and a lot does indeed depend on our individual choices in the short-term.

Pulling together for the common public good is essential. But we cannot allow ourselves to believe it will all be back to normal, sooner or later

Just a few years ago, journalists across the world were heralding the ‘death of truth’ and the ‘fall of the expert’. Donald Trump, the Brexit cause, Jair Bolsonaro and other notable components of the vaguely-defined ‘populist wave’ that began to hit us in 2016, claimed their success at the expense of truth, reason and expertise.

Even well-respected scientists, let alone academics in such preposterous fields as the social sciences and humanities, were dismissed as agents of the ‘deep-state’ and vested establishment interests. Feelings triumphed over facts and the people reclaimed power from all those know-it-alls.

The coronavirus pandemic has upended this theory. Experts are back, and in a big way. We need not look further than Superintendent of Public Health Charmaine Gauci for evidence of this. We owe those on the front lines of this crisis our sincerest respect and cooperation. Science and technology will be the determinants in the fight against the virus, and vaccine trials are already under way. Perhaps we will soon be able to model with accuracy the future trajectories of infectious diseases and develop preventative measures accordingly.

However, as historian Yuval Noah Harari so eloquently put it, how should societies – most importantly, governments and public bodies – make use of these new capabilities in the post-coronavirus world?

If surveillance technologies are more effective than civic education campaigns in altering human behaviour to combat a future pandemic, would we welcome their use unconditionally?

When should we apply the handbrake and choose principles such as privacy over others such as public safety or economic stability? These are questions that should be asked at any time of national or indeed international crisis.

As Harari sees it, the coronavirus pandemic could conceivably lead to a yearning for authoritarian, paternalistic regimes that citizens feel they can trust to lead them through the challenges.

Hungary’s Prime Minister Viktor Orbán is among several national leaders already making the argument for greater government powers to coordinate an effective response. Once they are granted that authority, what checks and balances can be maintained to ensure that it is not abused of?

On the other hand, the case can be made that crises bring out the best of society, a sense of communal solidarity expressed through informal organisations or impromptu acts of generosity. Can this spirit be operationalised for the post-crisis world to follow?

Things are moving very quickly. Pulling together for the common public good is essential. But we cannot allow ourselves to believe it will all be back to normal, sooner or later.

The lessons of this moment in history are yet to be decided. But by looking at the past, we can guess at some of the themes that will dominate discussion in the months and years to come.

How should we decide what matters, and what price are we willing to pay?   

Jacob Grech, St Aloysius sixth form student