�������ýҕ�l

For the past year, an assumption — sometimes explicit, often tacit — has informed almost all our thinking about the pandemic: At some point, it will be over, and then we’ll go “back to normal. ”This premise is almost certainly wrong. SARS-CoV-2, protean and elusive as it is, may become our permanent enemy, like the flu but worse. And even if it peters out eventually, our lives and routines will by then have changed irreversibly. Going “back” won’t be an option; the only way is forward. But to what exactly? (Andreas Kluth, 3/24)

The coronavirus pandemic is generating pressure on the manufacturing of vaccines and therapeutics. Every day that passes with inadequate production leads to excessive suffering and even death for thousands of Americans. We can do so much better — and we must — by maximizing advances in biomanufacturing, a field that uses biological systems to efficiently create drugs, tissues, and even products that go into foods and beverages. (Krishanu Saha, 3/24)

In 1948, Europe lay in ruins, entire cities laid waste by the destruction of World War II. Even though many of the countries in Western Europe were our erstwhile enemies, the United States recognized the necessity of rebuilding the continent and so enacted the Marshall Plan. We eventually lavished more than $78 billion (in today’s terms) on the continent, rebuilding vital infrastructure, reviving their economy and very possibly preventing whatever internecine struggles could have resulted from the poverty that likely otherwise would have ensued. In 2003, the United States recognized that much of the world was still languishing without lifesaving HIV/AIDS medications. Nowhere was this truer than in Sub-Saharan Africa, where HIV, tuberculosis and poverty made for a particularly deadly mix. (Tyler Johnson, 3/23)

Lining up in New York's Javits Center on a chilly Thursday morning to receive my first dose of the Pfizer vaccine, I was nervous and excited. The last time I'd visited the space was for Comic Con two years ago. The spaces that once held massive booths for DC and Marvel Comics were now filled with hundreds of New Yorkers pouring in to get vaccinated. And I couldn't help but notice that most of those in line were white—in a city that is majority people of color. I saw members of the National Guard stationed through the space. The sight of so many Caucasians in uniform usually worries me and signals trouble. But seeing the service members helping us get a shot at a post-pandemic life was comforting. More disconcerting was the absence of people who look like me. (Michael Crawford, 3/23)

One of the most vivid memories of my childhood is running from a pediatrician. The doctor intended no harm. He was just trying to give me a flu shot. It was a Saturday morning, back in the days when doctors made house calls. Being at home should have made me calmer, yet when I saw the syringe I bolted, ducking under and around the furniture. Only a cutting eye from my very unamused mother halted my escape and allowed the doctor to administer the shot into my quivering arm. I have trypanophobia. (Renee Graham, 3/23)

Millions of elderly Americans are still hunting for appointments to get vaccinated against COVID-19. Millions of younger Americans are waiting impatiently for their turn in line. But there’s one group whose members are far more skeptical about the vaccine — and in some cases are actively refusing to get jabbed at all — Republicans, especially Republican men. In a recent NPR/PBS/Marist survey, fully 49 percent of Republican men said they do not plan to get vaccinated — a higher share of refusers than any other demographic group. Among Democratic men, the number saying No was only 6 percent. (Doyle McManus, 3/22)

The COVID-19 vaccine is safe. It is effective. It has been tested on a diverse cohort of people. And no one manufacturer’s vaccine is better than another’s. Unfortunately, due to a constant drumbeat of misinformation, nearly a third of all Americans still say they don’t want to get vaccinated, or that they only want to get vaccinated by a specific maker’s vaccine. As someone who helped successfully care for the first known COVID-19 patient in California, let me be as clear as I possibly can be: You want the vaccine, because you don’t want this disease. (Philip Robinson, 3/23)