How are we talking about things? How are we framing conversations? Can we even listen to ourselves right now? I mourn the loss of healthy conflict and dialogue.

COVID-19 has become THE focus of many of our lives right now. The focus of our governments, the focus of our churches, the focus of our schools, and the list goes on. Beating the virus seems to have become the only goal. What does it exactly mean for a country to beat the virus? And what other things are we willing to sacrifice? The most common narrative seems to focus on who we’re saving, but no discussion about what and who we are losing. How do we know if we won? Are we even aware of what we have damaged along the way? Do we even have as much control over the virus as we think? In this “war on COVID” – what are all the casualties?

I want to protect the vulnerable. I don’t want people to die. But, which vulnerable people are we protecting? Government interventions may protect some lives, but at what cost to other lives, in the short and long term? Should the government even have the right to pick and choose which lives to “save?” What does it mean to follow science? Whose science?

I’ve been following some researchers, statisticians, and epidemiologists who have been compiling studies on the collateral effects of responses to COVID. I’ve discovered how lockdowns and government mitigation strategies affect people differently, harming some more than others. There are other vulnerable besides the elderly and immune-compromised. Their lives matter as well.

“Lockdowns are a luxury of the affluent” – Professor Sunetra Gupta.

For some people, home is the most dangerous place to be.

We can argue about lockdowns and masks and the role of government until we’re blue in the face. We often leave these conversations more entrenched in our own position, more angry at the other side (as if there are only two sides?), more emotional and less rational.

I obviously have a lot of opinions. They are obviously limited. As are everyone else’s, experts and officials included. What I am very concerned about, however, is how we are framing conversations. Conversations have the power to promote health and peace, or the power to divide, control, and harm. Instead of dialogue, we now have competing monologues, some with more opportunities to control.

I would love for all leaders – those in government, church, school – to acknowledge the cost of whatever measures they are advocating. Everything has trade-offs. Perhaps that would help the dialogue a bit? People questioning the measures would at least feel heard that their experiences and concerns are being taken into consideration.

When we deny the costs of our position, dialogue and trust suffer. Let’s name the potential costs of our position, and not just the perceived benefits.  When we are in an argumentative stance, we fear that admitting potential negative impacts will harm our message. I would argue that acknowledging the complexity may garner more support in the long run anyway.

Maybe we can also start with assuming the best of each other – that we all care about human life?