In America, almost every great event is presented now as a football game or reality T.V. show – lots of stats, warnings, arguments, finger-pointing, some courage, flim-flam, much hysteria, and confusion.

I often think it would be so helpful to info-battered Americans to hear from a historian sitting in on those cable T.V. channels or social media forums.

The historians could jump in over the shouting to wag their fingers and chant, like a Greek Chorus: nothing that happens is new.

To understand what is happening, you sometimes have to look back to the future.

Americans have always been suckers for the people we call “snake oil salesmen.”

Few of them ever knew or remember that the Chinese railroad workers who came to the United States in the 1880s brought various medicines – including snake oil, made from the oil of the Chinese water snake.

Patent medicine hustlers stole the name, selling potions that promised to cure a wide variety of ailments including chronic pain, headaches, “female complaints” and kidney trouble, all of them sold under the rubric of “snake oil.”

You might remember Ali Hakin, the traveling salesman in the movie Oklahoma.

His ghost is back, living in the White House selling bleach and disinfectant as a cure for the world’s most dangerous current virus. Sheriff, I can’t imagine why all those people got sick!

We Americans are the world’s leading narcissists. We think that everything that happens to us is happening for the first time in the history of the world. Our media doesn’t care for history, they love fires and shouting, so we have to learn our hard lessons every time.

Throughout human history, outbreaks of disease have ravaged humanity, brought down kings, changed the course of ordinary life, altered commerce, sometimes even bringing the end of an entire civilization.

They are all, to a one, tidal waves of change.

We Americans love hubris; we can hardly see past comfort, success, peace of mind, and wealth.  We insist upon happy endings.

The history of Pandemics argues against being smug.

The global outbreaks are called Pandemics:

A pandemic is a worldwide outbreak of disease.

Pandemics happen when a new virus emerges to infect people and can spread between people sustainably. Because there is little to no pre-existing immunity against the latest virus, it spreads worldwide.

The Antonine Plague (165-180 A.D.) was brought back to Rome by soldiers carrying smallpox; it is believed to have killed more than 5 million people in the Roman Empire alone.

The Byzantine Empire (Plague of Justinian, A.D., 541-542) was ravaged by the bubonic plague, which began its rapid decline. The Black Death, also known as The Plague, traveled from Asia to Europe and killed almost half of Europe’s population from 1346-1353.

Towards its end, the Plague killed 100,000 people in London alone, 15 percent of the population. The mayor of London urged his people to conduct their business, as usual. He blamed Jews (they were accused of poisoning the wells of Christians, many were slaughtered), rats, poisonous air, and the Devil.

That’s another thing about Pandemics. The people who suffer from them always want someone to blame. Our President has offered us China and immigrants.

The most dangerous Pandemics in United States history were: smallpox from European settlers, 1633-1634; yellow fever from the Caribbean, 1793, and Cholera in several waves, 183201866.

In the industrial age, new transportation links made it easier for influenza and other viruses (the coronavirus, for sure). The Flu pandemic in 1889-1890 killed one million people., from Russia to most of Europe.

The American polio epidemic started in New York City in 1916, afflicting 27,000 people and killing 6,000. One of the victims of the Pandemic was Franklin Roosevelt, diagnosed with polio at the age of 39.

The most recent American Pandemic before the coronavirus was the AIDS epidemic, first diagnosed in 1981 and continuing to today. Scientists and biologists believe Pandemics like the coronavirus came from viruses unleashed by the destruction of natural habitats, a result of climate change. Our government believes this is a hoax.

Thomas Edison, where are you?

I often wonder what this Pandemic’s message is for me, and my country.

Pandemics usually spark xenophobia and change,  a turn away from immigration, and radical changes in lifestyle and medicine. There is always the belief we can seal ourselves off from the rest of the world, even though we can’t, especially now, but not even then.

There is always flailing about, but in our country, scientists usually stepped in to figure it out.

Until recently, Americans revered both science and technology, seeing both as saviors. It was almost always the scientists who were the heroes who scrambled to end previous Pandemics. We were always so proud of them.

Things have chanted We have a government that doesn’t trust science, that was perhaps one of the first visible casualties of the coronavirus.

Our scientists have been pushed somewhat to the side, whispering warnings, and concerns; they seem almost afraid to speak. Politicians have taken charge of the national response to the coronavirus Pandemic, as we can see.

The scientists seem bullied, off guard, insecure.

Pandemics can trigger positive change. They topple kings, rout emperors, and re-configure society. They also breed bigotry, superstition, conspiracy theories, and hatred. It takes a very strong leader to beat back conspiracy theories.

We have a leader who tweets them.

Our Pandemic has a lot in common with many of the others. Nobody saw it coming, recognized what it was, or were prepared for it. That seems to be the usual script with Pandemics, nobody ever really sees them coming.

As the bodies mount horrifically, we are scrambling to learn how it lives and travels, and most critically, how it can be stopped or cured. There is no vaccine, and the untested treatments some of our government officials and their friends in the media are pushing are found to sometimes kill people.

The social consequences of Pandemics can unite cultures or divide them (The Plague united England in ways that are still visible today.) Empires stumble and fall, borders change, the aftershocks often linger for years.

Our country is divided right now, and we have a President who makes no effort to hide his divisive impulses. He celebrates them. He is prone to politicize everything and to exploit divisions rather than try to heal them.

That is working for him.

Lots of people love him for this. Lots of people hate him for this.

He also – and quite openly – sees almost every public issue or problem in terms of his career and prospects. At nearly every press conference this past month, he has praised both his T.V. ratings and “great” responses to the virus. He insists on being praised by his “team.”

The Presidency is his most significant and most successful reality show.

There is no unified or recognizable system taking charge of the Pandemic, and our response to it. Every governor is more or less on his or her own, opening up, delaying, sheltering-in-place longer, or sooner, scrambling, and begging for equipment.

Pandemics are never easy or pleasant, but there is something pathetic about this one.

Federal officials jump in and out, often offering conflicting information. You take it, said the states. No, you take it, said the federal government. 

No Pandemic in American history was ever run in this way; I don’t know about the Romans or Byzantines.

Once again, there are two conflicting cultures at work: Andrew Cuomo’s Jesuit- like call for discipline, patience, data, love, and unity.

Trump just wants lots of praise.

He is the Great Disrupter, saying one thing, but doing another, lobbying behind the scenes for the governor’s loyal to him to open up as quickly as possible, even though it contradicts his guidelines.

Now you see it; now you don’t.

His new alter ego, Andrew Cuomo, is our Gary Cooper in High Noon. Standing nearly alone, taking the consequences, keeping his cool and his iron stare.

Governor Cuomo has learned to project empathy. President Trump just can’t do it.

To me, this Pandemic has not yet fully revealed itself. The smart boys and girls say we’re just approaching the second round.

Our vaunted medical and research system seems both fragile and feeble. I think of the search for a polio vaccine and the journey to the moon and a vaccine for Yellow Fever, and drugs to contain AIDS – it makes me want to cry.

Jonas Falk, we miss you, we need you.

As a nation, we seem stymied by this virus; the only heroes are CDC talking heads like Dr.  Fauci and the governor of New York and Ohio and Michigan.

The usual fault lines are opening up – rural versus urban, blue versus red, Democrat versus Republican, the governors versus Congress,  liberal versus conservative, and finally, science versus angry Christians.

The country is split in half.

That’s a lot of strife for a nation that desperately seeks a clear path to unity,  healing, and normalcy.

As the country begins to open up, it will soon be pretty clear which vision was the right one – Cuomo’s or Trump.  It’s already clear to me.

Pandemics are often more powerful than politics or demagoguery, even Kings (many of whom fled their countries during their Pandemics).

They are too big to be controlled, misrepresented, or manipulated. If the virus mounts a comeback, now or later, the political consequences will be dire.  The scientists say it will.

Pandemics are unique in that they come in waves.

There is the trauma of sickness and death, and then the earthquake that follows: the upending of economics, social norms, commerce, community, and work.

It takes a long time for regions or countries to get over Pandemics, we are surely not prepared for that. This one is exceptionally hardy and wily, although some lasted for years.

We are Americans.

We will willingly sacrifice a lot of older people to keep our wealth and prosperity. That is no surprise to anyone. Like my first editor told me, there is only one story in the world: how the rich screw the poor.

On a personal level, the Pandemic is all about truth and reality for me.

It is also about knowing the facts about the disease that will guide me in my own decisions, and my relationships with other people. Being an Old Man At Risk has been a powerful experience. So is walking around in a mask.

I hate to look pretty deeply into myself to grasp what was happening, and how I wish to respond.

Reading about the past is helpful. As always,I am reminded that things will change. It won’t be a shock.

A lot of things will change:  how we socialize, where we eat, shop,  how we talk to doctors, buy what we need, vote, and get our groceries.   Some businesses are just not equipped for this future. Some are.

Amazon, Apple, Google, and Wal-Mart are not hurting; their profits are through the roof.

They are the new avatars for our future. There is no such thing as a lousy Pandemic for them.

These changes are all about we want to live during a Pandemic, and in its economic aftermath. We have become perhaps the only truly Darwinian country in the world: only the big and the strong can survive.

One way or another, our leadership and our idea of leadership will change also.

It always does in a Pandemic. Pandemics bring the world to a screeching halt. Everything is on the table. People get restive; Americans still believe they can change reality anytime they want to by switching their Presidents or buying some stock.

We’ll see.

Our politics are tired, the left and the right, Democrats and Republicans. They have little to offer us at a time like this.

A snarling and cruel and dishonest old man with a squirrel living on his head is not the answer.  This is no Luke Skywalker. I don’t know what comes next, but it will be different.

People will be eager to put the Pandemic behind them, and everything associated with it. I can’t predict the future, but the past is pretty clear and pretty consistent.

There are only heroes and goats. The Pandemic gets to define them, not the media.

In recent years, every major election has been about the same thing: change. People always want it. They will want a ton of it this year, enough to forget much of 2020.

The Pandemic has challenged me to be open about my vulnerability and risk, to be thoughtful about the harm I might cause to others. It has brought me back to writing about our culture and civic life. I’ve always wanted to be an explainer, not a warrior.

The Pandemic has given me another chance.

The people witing to tell me I hate our President miss the point.

I’m not a good hater; I don’t hate anybody. I am fascinated with almost everybody; I see the world as a giant chessboard, I am always trying to understand the next move.

I believe strongly in the idea of doing good rather than arguing about it; there is a great need and many people who want to help. In a way, it’s my time and their time, just like Wal-Mart, only I am a dot in their petri dish.

I am committed to not supporting or enabling argument, hatred, or finger-pointing.  My proudest words are, “I don’t argue my beliefs on Facebook, the Internet, or Twitter.” That is my path to enlightenment.

Many people in our country confuse disagreement with hatred. Hatred is a waste of time; it has never solved a problem, only made some.

I try to describe what I see and feel. They used to call it journalism.

After a Pandemic, that is what people most need and want. History is pretty clear about that.

You can draw your conclusions from our Pandemic. Some people can sound hateful, even stupid, but in the aggregate, Americans are pretty savvy. They have created a pretty remarkable country, for all of its very human flaws.

The Pandemic has also taken off our Emperor’s Clothes.

Our President hasn’t seemed to realize yet that the White House isn’t Middle School, calling people names terrorizes the playground but doesn’t work in school. It just seems bush and weak.

Over time, that becomes a virus all of its own, possibly even a Pandemic all its own.

But one more thing to learn from history, they never last forever.