Personal Health during a Global Pandemic: How Some Americans May be Forced to Choose between this and Financial Stability

Leera Scholarship Winner – Written | Marie-Anais Benot

Some of us may have predicted the Australian fires would be the most defining event of 2020. But a global coronavirus pandemic has rocked the world during the first few months of this decade, killing more than 230 thousand people worldwide to date, devastating the economy, cancelling millions of personal and public events, and forcing many of us to carry out our daily lives from the confines of our homes. The United States is now considered the hot spot of the pandemic, and the virus is thought to have arrived in early February, which is weeks earlier than originally speculated. This, combined with severe testing shortages in the U.S., and recent findings which point to widespread asymptomatic transmission of COVID-19, has contributed to a steep epidemic curve and constantly changing estimates regarding the “peak dates” or when the pandemic will subside.

While the SARS-CoV-2 virus strain is almost identical everywhere, the response and impact has varied significantly from one place to another. Several countries prepared for future potential outbreaks since the 2003 SARS pandemic, such as Taiwan and Hong Kong. These nations carried out exemplary responses to the pandemic at an early phase, and their comparatively low case load and deaths demonstrate the success of such swift measures. The United States, specifically, has been characterized by the lack of unified, federal orders and instead, has insisted upon the ability for each individual state to choose its own course. This has led to astounding differences in each state’s case count and has ultimately forced some vulnerable populations to choose between their personal health and financial health.  

The capitalist tendencies of the United States have brought a very disheartening and worrying argument to the surface after only mere weeks of the coronavirus pandemic: “money versus mortality?” While it is true that a prolonged shut down will have devastating impacts on a nation’s economy, a once complex cost-benefit analysis has devolved into politicians sending out quick tweets or blurting comments proclaiming their support of Americans dying at the expense of opening the economy. These arguments are based on the concept of “value of a statistical life,” or VSL, which was developed in 1968 to quantify the “worth” of an individual’s life. In the United States, this is currently estimated at around $10 million. However, even upon using this uncomfortable analysis to weigh the options, the numbers still point to the continuation of social distancing and the prolongation of public health measures until each state reaches its peak of the pandemic and experiences a decline in its numbers. 

As a public health graduate student from Georgia, I have witnessed first-hand what a discord between government and science can mean in my home state. On April 1^st, the Governor of Georgia, Brian Kemp, issued a stay-at-home order, making Georgia one of the last states to do so. He confidently declared that he was only made aware of the possibility of asymptomatic transmission less than “24 hours ago.” However, the CDC, several miles away, had made this information available in mid-February.  On Monday, April 20, less than three weeks after his first order, Governor Kemp declared that Georgia would open up again, despite the number of coronavirus cases continuing to rise in his state, especially amongst African Americans. In fact, a CDC study found that 83% of patients hospitalized from coronavirus in Georgia were African American. We would soon find out that while he was urging Georgia residents to return to work and resume business, his governor’s mansion remained closed to the public to “ensure health and safety,” and the Georgia General Assembly maintained the suspension of their session, thereby unearthing a questionable dichotomy of standards. 

I have noticed many of the pro-opening arguments share some very similar key phrases: freedom; the government should not tell us what to do; we should stop being so scared and get back to work. These words were touted by some of the “anti-lockdown” protestors sprinkled throughout several states, including Washington, Colorado, Michigan, California, Ohio, and Texas. In fact, in my own county, the mayor recently compared the pandemic to the 9/11 catastrophe, urging his constituents to leave their houses and embody the “fire fighters and police officers who ran into burning buildings on September 11, 2011.” Besides the fact that a deadly, virulent virus simply cannot be compared to a terrorist attack, this message forces an incredibly dangerous and morally flawed idea unto communities: “go outside, save the economy, and die if you have to—you will be hero for it.” This concept is especially damaging for those most vulnerable to the virus: impoverished Americans and racial minority demographics, which tend to overlap. 

Wealth and health are undeniably intertwined. They exist on a continuum, such that middle-income Americans will be less healthy than wealthier Americans, but still healthier than impoverished Americans. The idea that individuals are pushed to decide between personal health and financial health is not an entirely new concept. In fact, low-income families may often forgo nutritious meals, medical visits, or a college education in order to pay the bills and keep afloat, financially. Homeless populations are particularly vulnerable to the pandemic, with social distancing rendered almost impossible. This demonstrates that social distancing and shelter in place are privileges in themselves. Undocumented immigrants also face additional barriers, as they are often ineligible for unemployment benefits, Medicaid, food stamps, and most recently, the stimulus checks provided by the federal government for COVID-19 financial relief. 

Opening up states at this stage of the epidemiological curve forces those whose critically rely on their incomes to risk their lives more than others. This pandemic has already targeted vulnerable populations more than any other group. In a recent study by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, it was found that African Americans had higher rates of hospitalization due to the coronavirus, and that Hispanics and African Americans faced a higher mortality rate. This is, in part, due to differences in living conditions, occupation, and access to healthcare. It is worth noting that a large proportion of minority groups are considered critical workers. Almost 25% of employed African Americans and Hispanics work in the service industry and more than half of agricultural workers identify as Hispanic. Already, they have few choices but to physically show up to work. The premature opening of certain states widens this health disparity. During Governor Kemp’s declaration to re-open Georgia, he proclaimed that “gyms, fitness centers, bowling alleys, body art studios, barbers, cosmetologists, hair designers, nail care artists, estheticians, their respective schools, and massage therapists” would be the first to reopen. It is impossible to ignore the fact that these businesses are predominantly owned and run by racial minorities, especially barbers, nail salons, and hair dressers. Furthermore, while the Governor proclaims Georgians should still continue social distancing, this will be far from possible for these individuals- their entire jobs depend on the opposite. 

Some populations may not have the luxury to choose to stay home and work remotely. Instead, they will need to decide if closing their small business or getting laid off is a better choice than contracting a potentially deadly disease. Many may choose the former. And if they do fall ill, access to testing and health care is not always guaranteed. 

Undoubtedly, everyone is yearning for this pandemic to end, for the feeling of fear to subside, for the restoration of normalcy. The important question is, at what cost? Will we be comfortable with the idea of filling graveyards in order to boost the economy of this country? Should we volunteer vulnerable populations to bear this burden, ignoring the severe consequences this will have on their personal health? We must reflect on these questions before reinforcing an already disparate system in America, where affluence buys you assurance, but destitution makes you disposable. Especially during an unprecedented public health emergency, individuals everywhere should be entitled to their personal health.