In part, this is an artifact of how successful the mitigation measures have been: Because the death toll has been held to the scores of thousands, many people have the luxury of talking and acting however they like without facing real-world consequences. They can hang out in the bottom of that second Venn diagram if it makes them feel better. (Not everyone hanging out there has been so fortunate.)
But the existence of this impulse is worrisome on its own.
As America’s decadence has increased over the last 30 or so years and we have become—just objectively speaking—a less serious country, one of the stories we have told ourselves was that we could become a serious people again if we faced a big enough shock or a stern enough test. That the steely, strong, serious America of the last century—the America that survived the Depression and crushed the Nazis and put men on the moon—was still somewhere within us, just waiting to be awakened. That our true, best selves just needed a call to action, a grave, existential summons.
The reaction of this vocal and sizable minority to the pandemic suggests that this story might not be true, either.
