What do bats in China and toilet paper in Thunder Bay, Ontario have in common? Nothing, usually. No one changing a roll was likely to think of a bat. Certainly no bat flapping out of its cave at dusk gave much thought to the cleanliness of a human crevice. Yet here we sit, lamenting our lack of two-ply, and a small, furry, winged, Asian mammal might be to blame.
The Butterfly Effect refers to the potential for complicated systems to change in unpredictable ways because of some previous, minor change in conditions. Ray Bradbury explored the concept in 1952’s A Sound of Thunder. Later, in 1961, a meteorologist named Edward Lorenz was testing a weather model, and discovered that by rounding off a number early in his calculations, the eventual outcome was drastically different from what it would have been had he used the full, unrounded data. When he failed to provide a title for a talk he was presenting in 1972, someone suggested, “Does the flap of a butterfly’s wings in Brazil set off a tornado in Texas?” It stuck, and so did the term “Butterfly Effect”.
The Domino Effect refers to a more direct chain of mechanical events. Line up some dominoes on their ends within touching distance of each other, and tip the first one against the next. All the rest will fall in a predictable (and entertaining) fashion.
Neither offers a good metaphor for the COVID-19 situation. The implications of this pandemic are still emerging, but so far it has affected everything from local climate to individual working conditions half a globe away. And, yes, toilet paper supplies.
Professor John Bryson, who specializes in enterprise and economic geography at the University of Birmingham, has noted that the changes in human behavior resulting from COVID-19 have already altered air quality for the better in China and neighbouring countries, and may cause corporations to re-evaluate their internationalization strategies as a protective response to potential future pandemics. It’s probably too early to begin eulogizing globalization, but in my small city of Thunder Bay, where no cases of the Coronavirus have been reported yet, people are feeling somewhat protected by our isolation from larger urban centres, and by our ability to rely on local supply chains for many of our needs.
Many organizations have offered their employees the option to work from home during this outbreak in the hopes that social distancing will reduce the virus’ ability to spread easily. The advantages for both employees and employers – consider the cost savings of not having to lease office space – might lead to a permanent increase in remote work arrangements. It’s possible that the resulting reduction in commuting could lead to pressure on city councils to re-zone currently homogeneous, auto-oriented, suburban neighbourhoods for mixed use so that people working from home have pleasant, walkable options for lunch, groceries, or for picking up office supplies. Or, perhaps suburban living will come to be seen for the soul-crushing, parasitic drain on urban resources that it is, and some of our languishing downtown cores will once more become desirable residential areas, giving people the option to do the majority of their work from home, while having easy access to communal office space for projects that would benefit from face-to-face interaction, and to places large enough to host annual general meetings or conventions.
Focused as we are on the short-term fallout from COVID-19, a few are positing long-term consequences, including a possible baby boom. In an article in Fatherly, Cameron Leblanc wonders if “an army of Sagittariuses” will emerge at the end of the year. A good deal of anecdotal evidence suggests that when humans hunker down, they get busy.
On the flip side of that coin, any strain on social services that might have been caused by an aging population could be reduced. Despite my age, I don’t object to the joking moniker “boomer remover”. Dark humour is one way we cope with crises. If the people who once told us not to trust anyone over 30 can’t take a joke, we have far bigger problems than a pandemic, and it’s hard to blame millennials who can’t afford to purchase a home for taking a shot at those whom they perceive garnered some of the last benefits capitalism had to offer the shrinking middle class.
Speaking of economics, the short-term effects have become obvious. Those of us with RRSPs have watched our lifelong savings vanish in the wink of an eye. I filled up my car for less yesterday than at any time in the past five years. And when billionaire airline magnate Richard Branson asks for social assistance, you know the seas are rough. The long-term effects are fodder for much speculation. Although the IMF is happy to lend billions to member countries at risk of hardship due to COVID, what that will look like in terms of countries restructuring their economic policies in order to climb out from under that debt for many years to come is an open question.
In the future, we might refer to long-lasting, dramatic worldwide repercussions initiated by something as unremarkable as the conditions in a live animal market as “The COVID Effect”. As for toilet paper, perhaps North Americans are about to discover the bidet.
https://www.birmingham.ac.uk/research/perspective/covid-19-climate-change.aspx