Gloom is infectious, so is hope
Loneliness and anxiety about health figure prominently in a snapshot survey of these pandemic times reported in The Australian on Tuesday. Many readers will recognise themselves in those results. We also have been warned to expect an increase in suicides. The mental health impact is potentially serious and the national cabinet sensibly has endorsed a plan to try to minimise the harm. Christine Morgan, suicide prevention adviser to Scott Morrison, was asked on Friday about the risk of people ending their own lives and said this was “absolutely an issue”. But she also made the point that the way we talk about suicide risk “needs to be very carefully managed … to actually concentrate on what can we do to ensure it doesn’t happen”. She mentioned a crucial watchword: hope.
We have to get the balance right. Of course we should encourage people to safeguard their own mental health and look out for others. But the message must not spill over into creating the impression that the pandemic is so catastrophic that a loss of hope is logical, that there is only one way out.
The world is in the throes of a profound experience, with some shared elements and some that differ according to a host of factors from governance and culture to personal circumstances and temperament. It’s foolhardy to make black-and-white predictions about what the effects will be. There is no doubt that joblessness and social dislocation have the potential to blight many lives. But with tenacity and luck it’s possible for people to find new sources of productive work. And we should remember that happiness is not simply monetised. Above a certain level of income, gains in satisfaction fall away.
In the struggle against COVID-19, there is also the possibility of a London Blitz-like effect: a life-and-death challenge faced together can bring a sense of solidarity and purpose that enables people to put aside what only yesterday might have seemed overwhelming personal worries and troubles. There are plentiful stories of people being less preoccupied with themselves and instead reaching out to help others.
Japan has just witnessed the most dramatic year-on-year fall in suicides in five years — down almost 20 per cent last month compared with April last year. That culture is well known for a devotion to corporate life that can seem all-consuming, and not only to outsiders. Now, Japanese families have a rare opportunity to enjoy their own company away from office pressures or school bullying. At least that’s one possible explanation for less suicide floated in the Japanese media; another is the social solidarity stimulated in the face of disaster. True, it’s early days in the economic cost likely to be exacted by the pandemic, and solidarity may wilt in time. In Australia, Ms Morgan said there were figures from some states suggesting suicide rates had not risen, but she also warned we should not be complacent ahead of future risks. We simply do not know how many jobs are gone, never to return, or how many livelihoods are yet to be lost.
The young seem especially vulnerable, and not just because they may be entering the workforce in bleak economic times, have less marketable skills or may be more dependent on vanishing hospitality jobs. Across the Anglosphere there are signs of heightened levels of mental distress and fragility among the young, notably since the rise of social media. They are surrounded by well-intentioned programs and rules to promote “wellbeing” and shield them from risks. Yet it may be that the “resilience” talked up by this same culture will remain elusive without serious challenges, even hardship. It’s no coincidence that great literature and myth have a healthy dose of suffering and ordeal. How the young respond to the world of COVID-19 — indeed, how we all respond — will depend partly on the meaning that can be fashioned from the experience. Policymakers will and should do everything possible to rebuild the economy. But it’s up to us to give purpose to reinvented livelihoods or reconfigured work and family relationships. A pandemic is a threat to what we value, but it is also a stimulus to a defence and reconstruction of what makes life worthwhile. With our help, hope can be stronger than despair.