Are you a glass half-full or half-empty type of person?
Me – I don’t just think the glass is half-empty, I also stop to think: Who put the water there? What was their intention? Is it even water, or could it be cyanide? Is there a secret global cabal trying to depopulate the world through contaminated water, starting with me?
In other words, I’m not only a pessimist, but I am an over-thinker. Glass half-full types have always been a source of both envy and confusion; they seemed as if they had been cherry-picked from the depths of the galactic, sent to the world to bestow their happy-clappy positivity to doomsayers like myself.
Yet since the pandemic outbreak, my anxious scepticism has been withered by glimmers of optimism. Why? Well, when everything felt as if it was going to the dogs, it seemed there was a choice to be made – either let myself be bogged down by the onslaught of negative news or try my best to combat these negative thoughts with a fiercely positive outlook. Through gritted teeth, I chose the latter, and since then it seems the intergalactic optimists were on to something all along; alerting your mindset to try and be positive reaps several benefits.
Firstly, it works wonders for your health and general wellbeing. According to Johns Hopkins Medicine, the “power of positive thinking” is linked to a wide range of health benefits: better stress management, a longer life span, increased physical wellbeing and reduced risk of cardiovascular disease. Secondly, it can promote resilience in the face of adversity. An LSE study addresses this and concludes that if governments want more resilient citizens in current and future pandemics, they should invest resources into producing more optimistic people.
But of course, we live in emotionally testing times, and the case for optimism can sometimes seem reductive when realism seems a more suitable school-of-thought in the face of disappointment and delay. Even so, try to ignore the realists, the doomsayers and the doomscrollers – if only for a few minutes – and embrace three of the many reasons why we should try and find our own glimmers of optimism in the future.
The rollout of Covid-19 vaccines
The number of people who have received their first shot of the Covid-19 vaccine has soared over 15 million – a momentous milestone. The figure includes most of those in the top four at-risk groups (the over 70s, frontline healthcare and social workers, and the clinically vulnerable). More than half a million Brits have also been given their second dose. These vulnerable categories – according to the government – account for 88% of all preventable Covid-19 deaths. The success of the vaccination rollout will be the backdrop to the Prime Minister unveiling his “roadmap” for easing restrictions on 22 February – so stay tuned. If there continues to be a sharp fall in infection rates, hospitalisations and deaths, there is every reason to begin to be cautiously optimistic about a phased return to normality.
Vaccines are the key that will unlock society from this calamity and so the fact the rollout has remained on target is, as the PM said, “an extraordinary feat.” The rollout also offers hope for a post-Covid economic revival. The Bank of England has been bullish about the country’s economic recovery, predicting that GDP will “recover rapidly” toward pre-Covid levels, as vaccines allow for the reopening of schools and businesses. Once businesses start to reopen, Brits will play a vital role in giving the Heimlich manoeuvre to an economy in need of resuscitation.
The rebirth of compassion in the community
If the pandemic has taught us anything, it’s that human contact and compassion is of paramount importance. Pre-coronavirus, loving thy neighbour often meant the occasional glance over the garden fence or a slight nod in the corridor. But the crisis has brought neighbours closer together, with research revealing that one-fifth of Brits (8.9m people) had spoken to the people next-door for the first time since lockdown began.
The pandemic meant that neighbours not only shared the same street name but the same concerns and grievances. At the beginning of lockdown, we saw the beginnings of an increased community spirit in neighbourhoods, where people came together to support NHS staff and key workers in a number of ways: putting rainbows up in window panes, the NHS clap on Thursday evenings, mezzo-sopranos on balconies, bake-offs and so on. The shining star of this neighbourhood spirit was the late Captain Sir Tom Moore. By walking 100 laps of his garden for his 100th birthday, Sir Tom raised £32.8m in aid of NHS Charities Together and in doing so, spearheaded a community effort that resembled the Blitz spirit.
Although this community effort seemed to have peaked in the first lockdown, it has continued throughout the second and third. Volunteers have been picking up food or medication for elderly residents or those self-isolating, forming mutual aid groups, writing letters to care home residents, making donations to food banks or providing food parcels for children.
Yet, the pandemic did not create this space for compassion; it merely brought it out of the woodwork. After all, Homo Sapiens are by definition, animals that survive on care and collaboration. The toll of the past year on communities has been nightmarish but the power of the neighbourhood in being a pinnacle of help, support – or even just there for an over-the-fence chat – remains important. Neighbourhoods aren’t just for watching.
Doubts have been raised over whether this Blitz spirit will last beyond the crisis, whether the momentum will maintain. This is hard to tell but for now, take comfort in the confirmation that human beings all have the capacity to pull together and help one another – crisis or no crisis.
The post-pandemic party
What do you get when you lock up 67 million people and release them when it is safe to do so? You get one hell of a hedonistic party. These past three lockdowns have heralded a level of puritanism akin to the Cromwellian era, where we have subjected ourselves to an involuntary sort of retirement; cracking open a bottle of wine out of necessity rather than enjoyment. But, fear not, for once this pandemic is over, there will be so much exhaustive social interaction, you’ll end up retreating back into your introverted shell.
According to Yale Professor and social epidemiologist, Dr Nicholas Christakis, once this pandemic ends, there will be a second “roaring 20s” (the first one, of course, occurred just after the 1918 flu pandemic). According to F. Scott Fitzgerald, the roaring ’20s saw “a whole race going hedonistic, deciding on pleasure.” Well, this decade will host a post-pandemic party so wild, it’ll make Jay Gatsby look like the Lord Protector himself.
Christakis predicts that by 2024, pandemic trends – such as abstemiousness and frugality – will be reversed. He goes on to say that: “People will relentlessly seek out social interaction. That could include everything from sexual licentiousness to liberal spending to even a reverse of religiosity.” A post-pandemic party so huge it’ll have puritans quaking in their leather boots.
It’s only a matter of time before restaurants, pubs, nightclubs and music venues open their doors and no longer be a tumbleweed wasteland. Pleasure-seekers will descend in their droves for mask-free interactions and sway once more to live music on cider-sticky floors, dance madly in the corner of nightclubs, clink frothy pints in beer gardens and collectively return to life as we knew it.
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This past year has been devastating for many; the crisis has sent a tidal wave through businesses, societies and communities. But it has also brought about positive transformation, opened up opportunities for change, for compassion, and reminded us what we should no longer take for granted. Although it seems that there is no end, there will be. That’s the thing with plagues and pandemics – they tend to have a curtain call. So, the next time you decide whether the glass is half-empty or half-full, swap it for a goblet, fill it to the brim, and toast to the better times that are just around the corner.