When I get stressed, a patch of annoying red eczema appears on the inside of my upper right arm. The doctor gives me some cream to rub on it, but I also know that to stop it coming back I have to deal with the underlying problem.
Too much information, you’re thinking, but let me make the analogy. The reason we shouldn’t call the Sars-CoV-2 virus causing global misery the “
Chinese virus” is the same reason I shouldn’t blame my eczema on my upper arm: there is clearly a superficial weakness there, but the real cause lies elsewhere.
...Even so, to play devil’s advocate for a moment, the problem could still be regarded as uniquely Chinese. But there are two reasons why that’s not true. First, with the opening up of China, its agribusiness has ceased to be wholly Chinese-owned. It is a big recipient of
foreign direct investment. Second, as the American pandemic expert, David Morens, and his colleagues
pointed out last month in the New England Journal of Medicine, we’ve been watching a similar drama unfold over a much longer timescale with influenza – the disease that has caused more pandemics in the history of humanity than any other.
Flu viruses that infect animals, including poultry and pigs, have periodically spilled over into humans ever since we domesticated those animals millennia ago. But the factory farms that produce our food today
ratchet up the virulence of those flu viruses just before they spill over. This ratcheting up has been documented in Europe, Australia and the US more than it has in poor or emerging economies, and it’s what gave rise to the last flu pandemic in 2009. The first cases of that pandemic were recorded in California, but nobody calls it the American flu – and it’s right that they don’t, if only because American farms aren’t wholly American-owned either. China, for one, has
invested in them.
“We have created a global, human-dominated ecosystem that serves as a playground for the emergence and host-switching of animal viruses,” wrote Morens et al. The resulting diseases are suffered locally at first, as is reflected in their names – Ebola and Zika virus diseases and Bolivian hemorrhagic fever, to name just three – but the irony is that some of them, such as HIV and Covid-19, go on to become global. It’s hard not to see a terrible natural justice in that.
..In 2015, the World Health Organization issued guidelines on
how to name diseases, which stipulated that such names should not single out particular human populations, places, animals or food. Names that commit those sins often turn out to be wrong anyway, but by the time that becomes clear the damage has already been done. Gay-related immune deficiency or Grid, the first name given to Aids, stigmatised the gay community while stymying research into how the disease affected other groups. President Trump’s labelling of Sars-CoV-2 as the “Chinese virus” is also unhelpful. At a time when the main centres of Covid-19 infection are outside China, and Americans and Europeans could be learning valuable lessons from the Chinese, he is exchanging insults with Chinese politicians who have accused him of racism and hinted – just as preposterously – that the US military brought the virus to China. The slanging match suits Trump, distracting from his
mishandling of the epidemic at home, but it does the rest of us no favours.