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  • 23 Pandemic Decisions That Actually Went Right

    23 Pandemic Decisions That Actually Went Right

    More than three years ago, the coronavirus pandemic officially became an emergency, and much of the world froze in place while politicians and public-health advisers tried to figure out what on Earth to do. Now the emergency is officially over—the World Health Organization declared so on Friday, and the Biden administration will do the same later this week.

    Along the way, almost 7 million people died, according to the WHO, and looking back at the decisions made as COVID spread is, for the most part, a demoralizing exercise. It was already possible to see, in January 2020, that America didn’t have enough masks; in February, that misinformation would proliferate; in March, that nursing homes would become death traps, that inequality would widen, that children’s education, patients’ care, and women’s careers would suffer. What would go wrong has been all too clear from the beginning.

    Not every lesson has to be a cautionary tale, however, and the end of the COVID-19 emergency may be, if nothing else, a chance to consider which pandemic policies, decisions, and ideas actually worked out for the best. Put another way: In the face of so much suffering, what went right?

    To find out, we called up more than a dozen people who have spent the past several years in the thick of pandemic decision making, and asked: When the next pandemic comes, which concrete action would you repeat in exactly the same way?

    What they told us is by no means a comprehensive playbook for handling a future public-health crisis. But they did lay out 23 specific tactics—and five big themes—that have kept the past few years from being even worse.


    Good information makes everything else possible.
    1. Start immediate briefings for the public. At the beginning of March 2020, within days of New York City detecting its first case of COVID-19, Governor Andrew Cuomo and Mayor Bill de Blasio began giving daily or near-daily coronavirus press briefings, many of which included health experts along with elected officials. These briefings gave the public a consistent, reliable narrative to follow during the earliest, most uncertain days of the pandemic, and put science at the forefront of the discourse, Jay Varma, a professor of population health at Cornell University and a former adviser to de Blasio, told us.
    2. Let everyone see the information you have. In Medway, Massachusetts, for instance, the public-school system set up a data dashboard and released daily testing results.  This allowed the entire affected community to see the impact of COVID in schools, Armand Pires, the superintendent of Medway Public Schools, told us.
    3. Be clear that some data streams are better than others. During the first year of the pandemic, COVID-hospitalization rates were more consistent and reliable than, say, case counts and testing data, which varied with testing shortages and holidays, Erin Kissane, the managing editor of the COVID Tracking Project, told us.The project, which grew out of The Atlantic’s reporting on testing data, tracked COVID cases, hospitalizations, and deaths. CTP made a point of explaining where the data came from, what their flaws and shortcomings were, and why they were messy, instead of worrying about how people might react to this kind of information.
    4. Act quickly on the data. At the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, testing made a difference, because the administration acted quickly after cases started rising faster than predicted when students returned in fall of 2020, Rebecca Lee Smith, a UIUC epidemiologist, told us. The university instituted a “stay at home” order, and cases went down—and remained down. Even after the order ended, students and staff continued to be tested every four days so that anyone with COVID could be identified and isolated quickly.  
    5. And use it to target the places that may need the most attention. In California, a social-vulnerability index helped pinpoint areas to focus vaccine campaigns on, Brad Pollock, UC Davis’s Rolkin Chair in Public-Health Sciences and the leader of Healthy Davis Together, told us. In this instance, that meant places with migrant farmworkers and unhoused people, but this kind of precision public health could also work for other populations.
    6. Engage with skeptics. Rather than ignore misinformation or pick a fight with the people promoting it, Nirav Shah, the former director of Maine’s CDC, decided to hear them out, going on a local call-in radio show with hosts known to be skeptical of vaccines.
    A pandemic requires thinking at scale.
    1. Do pooled testing as early as possible. Medway’s public-school district used this technique, which combines samples from multiple people into one tube and then tests them all at once, to help reopen elementary schools in early 2021, said Pires, the Medway superintendent. Pooled testing made it possible to test large groups of people relatively quickly and cheaply.
    2. Choose technology that scales up quickly. Pfizer chose to use mRNA-vaccine tech in part because traditional vaccines are scaled up in stainless-steel vats, Jim Cafone, Pfizer’s senior vice president for global supply chain, told us. If the goal is to vaccinate billions of patients, “there’s not enough stainless steel in the world to do what you need to do,” he said. By contrast, mRNA is manufactured using lipid nanoparticle pumps, many more of which can fit into much less physical space.
    3. Take advantage of existing resources. UC Davis repurposed genomic tools normally used for agriculture for COVID testing, and was able to perform 10,000 tests a day,  Pollock, the UC Davis professor, told us.
    4. Use the Defense Production Act. This Cold War–era law, which allows the U.S. to force companies to prioritize orders from the government, is widely used in the defense sector. During the pandemic, the federal government invoked the DPA to break logjams in vaccine manufacturing, Chad Bown, a fellow at the Peterson Institute for International Economics who tracked the vaccine supply chain, told us. For example, suppliers of equipment used in pharmaceutical manufacturing were compelled to prioritize COVID-vaccine makers, and fill-and-finish facilities were compelled to bottle COVID vaccines first—ensuring that the vaccines the U.S. government had purchased would be delivered quickly.  
    Vaccines need to work for everyone.
    1. Recruit diverse populations for clinical trials. Late-stage studies on new drugs and vaccines have a long history of underrepresenting people from marginalized backgrounds, including people of color. That trend, as researchers have repeatedly pointed out, runs two risks: overlooking differences in effectiveness that might not appear until after a product has been administered en masse, and worsening the distrust built up after decades of medical racism and outright abuse. The COVID-vaccine trials didn’t do a perfect job of enrolling participants that fully represent the diversity of America, but they did better than many prior Phase 3 clinical trials despite having to rapidly enroll 30,000 to 40,000 adults, Grace Lee, the chair of CDC’s Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices, told us. That meant the trials were able to provide promising evidence that the shots were safe and effective across populations—and, potentially, convince wider swaths of the public that the shots worked for people like them.
    2. Try out multiple vaccines. No one can say for sure which vaccines might work or what problems each might run into. So drug companies tested several candidates at once in Phase I trials, Annaliesa Anderson, the chief scientific officer for vaccine research and development at Pfizer, told us; similarly, Operation Warp Speed placed big bets on six different options, Bown, the Peterson Institute fellow, pointed out.
    3. Be ready to vet vaccine safety—fast. The rarest COVID-vaccine side effects weren’t picked up in clinical trials. But the United States’ multipronged vaccine-safety surveillance program was sensitive and speedy enough that within months of the shots’ debut, researchers found a clotting issue linked to Johnson & Johnson, and a myocarditis risk associated with Pfizer’s and Moderna’s mRNA shots. They were also able to confidently weigh those risks against the immunizations’ many benefits. With these data in hand, the CDC and its advisory groups were able to throw their weight behind the new vaccines without reservations, said Lee, the ACIP chair.
    4. Make the rollout simple. When Maine was determining eligibility for the first round of COVID-19 vaccines, the state prioritized health-care workers and then green-lighted residents based solely on age—one of the most straightforward eligibility criteria in the country. Shah, the former head of Maine’s CDC, told us that he and other local officials credit the easy-to-follow system with Maine’s sky-high immunization rates, which have consistently ranked the state among the nation’s most vaccinated regions.
    5. Create vaccine pop-ups. For many older adults and people with limited mobility, getting vaccinated was largely a logistical challenge. Setting up temporary clinics where they lived—at senior centers or low-income housing, as in East Boston, for instance—helped ensure that transportation would not be an obstacle for them, said Josh Barocas, an infectious-diseases doctor at the University of Colorado School of Medicine.
    6. Give out boosters while people still want them. When boosters were first broadly authorized and recommended in the fall of 2021, there was a mad rush to immunization lines. In Maine, Shah said, local officials discovered that pharmacies were so low on staff and supplies that they were canceling appointments or turning people away. In response, the state’s CDC set up a massive vaccination center in Augusta. Within days, they’d given out thousands of shots, including both boosters and the newly authorized pediatric shots.
    Also, spend money.
    1. Basic research spending matters. The COVID vaccines wouldn’t have been ready for the public nearly as quickly without a number of existing advances in immunology,  Anthony Fauci, the former head of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, told us. Scientists had known for years that mRNA had immense potential as a delivery platform for vaccines, but before SARS-CoV-2 appeared, they hadn’t had quite the means or urgency to move the shots to market. And research into vaccines against other viruses, such as RSV and MERS, had already offered hints about the sorts of genetic modifications that might be needed to stabilize the coronavirus’s spike protein into a form that would marshal a strong, lasting immune response.
    2. Pour money into making vaccines before knowing they work. Manufacturing millions of doses of a vaccine candidate that might ultimately prove useless wouldn’t usually be a wise business decision. But Operation Warp Speed’s massive subsidies helped persuade manufacturers to begin making and stockpiling doses early on, Bown said. OWS also made additional investments to ensure that the U.S. had enough syringes and factories to bottle vaccines. So when the vaccines were given the green light, tens of millions of doses were almost immediately available.
    3. Invest in worker safety. The entertainment industry poured a massive amount of funds into getting COVID mitigations—testing, masking, ventilation, sick leave—off the ground so that it could resume work earlier than many other sectors. That showed what mitigation tools can accomplish if companies are willing to put funds toward them, Saskia Popescu, an infection-prevention expert in Arizona affiliated with George Mason University, told us.
    Lastly, consider the context.
    1. Rely on local relationships. To distribute vaccines to nursing homes, West Virginia initially eschewed the federal pharmacy program with CVS and Walgreens, Clay Marsh, West Virginia’s COVID czar, told us. Instead, the state partnered with local, family-run pharmacies that already provided these nursing homes with medication and flu vaccines. This approach might not have worked everywhere, but it worked for West Virginia.
    2. Don’t shy away from public-private partnerships. In Davis, California, a hotelier provided empty units for quarantine housing, Pollock said. In New York City, the robotics firm Opentrons helped NYU scale up testing capacity; the resulting partnership, called the Pandemic Response Lab, quickly slashed wait times for results, Varma, the former de Blasio adviser, said.
    3. Create spaces for vulnerable people to get help. People experiencing homelessness, individuals with substance-abuse disorders, and survivors of domestic violence require care tailored to their needs. In Boston, for example, a hospital recuperation unit built specifically for homeless people with COVID who were unable to self-isolate helped bring down hospitalizations in the community overall, Barocas said.
    4. Frame the pandemic response as a social movement. Involve not just public-health officials but also schools, religious groups, political leaders, and other sectors. For example, Matt Willis, the public-health officer for Marin County, California, told us, his county formed larger “community response teams” that agreed on and disseminated unified messages.

    Rachel Gutman-Wei

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  • I’m Sorry, but This COVID Policy Is Ridiculous

    I’m Sorry, but This COVID Policy Is Ridiculous

    Cases have surged in China since it dropped its zero-COVID policy in December, and the latest models now suggest that at least 1 million people may die as a result. Many countries have responded by policing their borders: Last week, the CDC announced that anyone entering the United States from China would be required to test negative within two days of departure; the U.K., Canada, and Australia quickly followed suit; and the European Union has urged its member states to do the same. (Taking a more extreme tack, Morocco has said it will ban travelers from China from entering altogether.) At a media briefing on Wednesday, World Health Organization Director-General Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus said, “It is understandable that some countries are taking steps they believe will protect their own citizens.”

    On Tuesday, a Chinese official denounced some of the new restrictions as having “no scientific basis.” She wasn’t wrong. If the goal is to “slow the spread of COVID” from overseas, as the CDC has stated, there is little evidence to suggest that the restrictions will be effective. More important, it wouldn’t matter if they were: COVID is already spreading unchecked in the U.S. and many of the other countries that have new rules in place, so imported cases wouldn’t make much of a difference. The risk is particularly low given the fact that 95 percent of China’s locally acquired cases are being caused by two Omicron lineages—BA.5.2 and BF.7—that are old news elsewhere. “The most dangerous new variant at the moment is from New York—XBB.1.5—which the U.S. is now busy exporting to the rest of the world,” Christina Pagel, a mathematician who studies health care at University College London, told me. “I’m sorry, but this is fucking ridiculous.”

    By now, it’s well known that travel restrictions can’t stop COVID from crossing borders. At best, they slow its entry. When Omicron was first detected, in South Africa in late November 2021, America blocked travel from southern-African countries in an attempt to prevent the variant from spreading; by mid-December, Omicron dominated the United States. Restrictions can delay the spread of a variant only if they are implemented while cases are low and before travelers have had a chance to spread it. Such policies were more effective early in the pandemic: A BMJ Global Health review concluded that the initial ban on all travel into or out of Wuhan, China, in January 2020 significantly reduced the number of cases exported to other countries and delayed outbreaks elsewhere by “up to a few weeks.” Later on, such restrictions lost value. The COVID Border Accountability Project, which tracks travel restrictions around the world, has found that border closures did not reduce COVID spread, at least through April 2021, Mary Shiraef, the project’s principal investigator and a political scientist at Notre Dame University, told me. (According to the study, domestic lockdowns did slow transmission.)

    At this stage of the pandemic, restrictions make sense only under two conditions, Pagel said: The country deploying them must have low levels of spread and good control policies, and the restrictions must be applied to all other nations, as opposed to just one. Neither of these conditions is being met right now by any country deploying travel measures against China. Even if a single-point ban did serve some useful purpose, the rules in place for China don’t add up. Predeparture testing likely won’t catch most infected travelers from China, Adam Kucharski, a professor of infectious-disease epidemiology at the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, told me. A person could test negative one day and then positive a few days later. If the point of restrictions is to slow local transmission, Kucharski said, calculations based on his research suggest that travelers should be tested twice: once before they arrive, then about three or four days afterward. Doing so would catch infected travelers who initially tested negative while limiting their window for spreading disease.

    The best possible outcome of a travel restriction like the one the U.S. now has in place would be a very small delay before the arrival of a catastrophic new variant that has just emerged in China. In that scenario, any extra time might be used to intensify mitigation strategies and assess the degree to which current vaccines are expected to hold up. Historically, though, the time saved by travel bans has been wasted. After countries restricted travel from South Africa to keep Omicron at bay, governments responded by “not really doing much at all domestically,” Kucharski said. In any case, as my colleague Katherine J. Wu has pointed out, the virus is able to spread easily in China right now without any further changes to its genome. Population immunity there is modest, owing to the country’s low natural-infection rate and less effective vaccines, so the virus can infect people perfectly well as is.

    The travel restrictions on China will have little impact on the spread of COVID, but they do send a forceful political message. The U.S. measures are meant to pressure China, by slowing its economic rebound, into being transparent about its COVID situation, Stephen Morrison, the director of the Global Health Policy Center at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, a Washington, D.C.-based think tank, told me. China’s alleged official death count, for example—5,259 as of January 4—seems way too low to be believable, especially amid reports of overflowing Chinese hospitals and funeral homes. So long as the country isn’t more forthcoming, Morrison said, then Chinese tourists, who have only recently been allowed to travel internationally, will continue to be unwelcome.

    Expressing this message through a largely pointless public-health measure comes with a price. When that measure fails to keep COVID spread at bay, faith in public-health institutions could decline, which Pagel said is the “biggest danger” for the next pandemic. It also stokes the long-standing fear that Chinese people are more likely to carry disease than anyone else, whether foreign or American. “We are watching this policy so carefully to see if it will once again invite a racial backlash,” Manjusha Kulkarni, a co-founder of Stop AAPI Hate, told me. If a rise in anti-Asian hate and violence comes along with more transparency from China about its COVID situation, the cost of these restrictions hardly seems worth their benefits.

    Yasmin Tayag

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