As I’m writing this on the morning of Thursday, Apr. 2, there are reports that this week’s jobless claims are around 6.6 million. Over the past two weeks, 9.9 million people have been laid off.
For the vast majority of Americans, the coronavirus crisis is more about the economy than public health. In fact, sometimes it’s even hard to remember that, while millions of people lose their jobs and watch the stock market drop, there are thousands of people dying and over 200,000 people fighting the virus with all the physical strength they can muster.
In this piece, at least at first, I want to think about those people.
What’s It Like to Have the Coronavirus or Live With Someone Who Has It?
On the Mar. 29 episode of The Daily podcast, we hear an essay from editor Jessica Lustig, who writes about caring for her husband as he deals with the coronavirus.
Honestly, I’ve spent so much time thinking about the stock market — and then the rest of my time thinking about the people who have the virus and the medical professionals fighting it — that I’ve spent literally no time thinking about the families of those with the virus and how hard this must be on them.
It must be utterly draining, mentally and physically, to care for someone with the virus while also trying to avoid catching it and then spreading it.
It must be traumatic.
And what is it like actually to have the coronavirus? It’s one thing to read or hear about the symptoms from a public health official. It’s another thing to hear a coronavirus survivor talk about his experience.
On the Mar. 31 episode of The Daily, James Cai, a physician assistant and the first confirmed case in New Jersey, talks about his experience as a coronavirus patient.
If Cai weren’t a medical professional and if he hadn’t advocated strongly for himself, he would probably be dead right now — and he’s not an old guy. Also, how horrible must it have been for him to think that he might die, actually die, and not have the opportunity to see his loved ones once he was in the hospital?
All of this strikes me as incredibly traumatic — obviously for those who die but also for those who survive.
I hope that, at a minimum, these episodes reminds us that, even though most of us are dealing with significant stuff — job losses, declining savings, etc. — there are other people dealing with experiences that are much more serious.
Now is a time for empathy.
Will the Economy and Stock Market Have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?
I’ve used the word “trauma” a couple of times in this piece, and I don’t use it lightly. I think that’s what we’re dealing with. The impact of the coronavirus crisis will be traumatic.
The real question is whether the people who deal with coronavirus end up having post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
My wife is a professor of American literature, and her first book, Reading Testimony, Witnessing Trauma, was recently published. In it, she looks at representations of trauma and how they intersect with race, gender, and class in American literature and society.
And based on her research and the way she talks about how people who undergo traumatic events tend to respond, I think we’re going to see quite a bit of coronavirus-connected PTSD when all of this is over.
In other words, for some people, this will never be over. The coronavirus will be something they feel forever.
And I think the same might be true for the post-coronavirus economy and stock market.
I am convinced that we will eventually recover: I don’t know when I’m going to get back in the market, but at some point I will bet on American capitalism.
But I do think the economy and stock market will have some significant PTSD when this is over. The recovery will be years, not months.
Survivors of trauma are often characterized by constriction. Stillness. They are stuck. Frozen in time and sometimes even space.
I fear that’s what we’re going to see out of the economy and the stock market. Consumers will be less likely to spend money and congregate in large venues. And investors will be reticent to take risks.
For a prolonged period, the economy and market will likely be constricted.
The Coronavirus Crisis Is Not Like the 2008 Financial Crisis
We recovered from 2008 — and we will eventually recover from the coronavirus — but what we are experiencing now is different than what we experienced 12 years ago.
It’s human tendency for people to resist representations of trauma: Narratives, news reports, etc. People don’t like hearing about how horrible other people’s lives are.
That makes us feel too human.
And one way that we keep traumatic narrative at an arm’s length is by distinguishing between “us” and “them.” Example: Victim blaming.
Think back to 2008: The financial crisis started in the banking sector and was largely the result of the irresponsible actions of those in that industry. There was a clear “us” and “them.”
Us: All the normal, everyday people who got screwed by the banking sector.
Them: The people who screwed us.
Because of this clear us/them divide, it was easier for people to move out of the financial crisis and get back into the market and return to life as normal: Everything that had happened was the fault of someone else.
The situation now is different.
By the time the coronavirus crisis is over, there won’t be any “them.” There will be just a whole bunch of “us.” All of us will have been impacted in some fashion.
And that will mean that the PTSD resulting from this experience will likely be felt and internalized more deeply.
I’m not a financial advisor, and I don’t suggest that you make any decisions based on anything I say or write … but I expect that the economy and stock market will take a while to recover from the trauma of the coronavirus crisis.