Witnessing Pandemic

Sabrina DelMonaco

I. Media & Surveillance
On April 9th, 2020, Vanity Fair published an article called "Coronavirus Surveillance Is Entering Dystopian Territory," where author Eric Lutz describes how the police department of Elizabeth, New Jersey is encouraging social distancing during our current COVID-19 pandemic. The police posted on Facebook that they plan to use drones with voice capabilities to tell people to "STOP gathering, disperse and go home." A few days later, the Facebook account posted a follow-up that asserted that "We are just trying to save lives, not trying to be big brother... There is no recording and no pictures being taken, it is a tool of encouragement to follow the rules.” This second post seemingly emerged in response to residents' privacy concerns, of which Lutz situates among the national discussion about privacy in the time of COVID-19. He concludes his article with a quote from an article by Thomas Gaulkin, who writes that "If drones do begin to hover over US streets to help control this pandemic, it will be yet another visible reminder that we’ve entered a public health Twilight Zone where Americans have no better option than to embrace what was once only imaginable, and never real." 
In articles like this one, the author and their publisher take advantage of our knee-jerk panic when the words "dystopian" and "surveillance" are connected in order to garner traffic. While Lutz's article avoids the typical clickbait trope that asks its audience if fiction like the Twilight Zone "predicted" our real-life circumstances, he still evokes these fears through the headline's use of "dystopia," as well as his use of a quote that invokes the Twilight Zone.
Part of the appeal of articles like these also stems from the siren song of recognition. Surveillance is often conceptualized via dystopian iconography that is already manifest in fiction: Big Brother, precogs, sentinels, etc. In tenuous times like these, dystopian media becomes a touchstone for us to interpret our current moment. It may also help us establish boundaries as we respond to COVID-19: Are we prepared to put sentinels à la The Matrix into Elizabeth, New Jersey?
(I can't help but add that it's for this reason that I'm so irked by articles that suggest dystopian authors are prophets. If certain forms of surveillance reflect iconography in fiction, I have no doubt that it's because the content informed its creators.) – April 3rd
II. The American Constitution, Race, & Surveillance
Another, more tangible way we shape our response to COVID-19 is through how we interpret the American Constitution. On April 13th, 2020, former Governor of Arkansas Mike Huckabee gave Fox & Friends his response to Dr. Fauci's quarantine timeline.
First, while it isn't relevant to surveillance, I'm dropping a quote of his that I think is especially indicative of both the of American conservative mindset and the faults of representative democracy: 

"I think on one hand we listen to the health experts... but none of those people have been elected. I just wanna remind... All of us something. We live in a democracy. We live in a country where we elect our leaders to make decisions. We do not relegate, delegate, and give over those decisions to people no matter how smart they are. We don't give them to people who havent been elected by we the people. And ultimately, while I respect what they're telling us and we need to listen carefully, these are decisions that are gonna be made by the president, and by the fifty governors of the states, and they make them on what's best for their population and balancing the health concerns with the fact that right now we've got millions of people out of work, our economy is tanked, and it is really threatening the civil liberties of a lot of people." 

Huckabee continues to say that, “That is a concern to me that I don’t hear enough about — how we are shredding the Constitution by telling people such things as you can’t sit in a car by yourself, you’re going to get arrested, you can’t drive up to a church in your own vehicle, and the closest contact you have is with the police officer who comes and tells us you can’t do it." It is ironic that Huckabee uses the scenario that one might be stopped while driving as an example of a gross violation of one's civil liberty, as we know that Black people are needlessly pulled over while driving at such a rate that the phenomenon has its own idiom: Driving While Black. The only unique phenomenon in Huckabee's scenario is that the police interaction could be the "closest contact you have." Ultimately, it's clear that the "you" in Huckabee's statement addresses white people, which may be why, to Huckabee, this "oughta scare the daylights out of us for the long-term future." Not only is Huckabee's response indicative of how our idea of civil liberties are distinctly racialized, but it is also indicative of what may be most terrifying about COVID-19: The virus's indiscriminate spread. – April 10th
III. Surveillance & The "Just Like" Fallacy
This article maps which countries' governments are attempting to prevent the spread of COVID-19 through heightened surveillance measures. While the content of this article is especially useful, I was most struck by the rhetoric in its introduction: It is one of several articles I've seen that cite the Patriot Act as a way to raise concerns about increased surveillance measures today. Author Dave Gershgorn writes, "Governments have a way of holding onto tools that undermine citizens’ privacy long after the moment of crisis has passed. Take, for example, the United States’ 2001 Patriot Act, which was passed in response to the 9/11 attacks. The Patriot Act gave the government broad surveillance powers with little oversight, including demanding customer data from telecoms without court approval. Twenty years later, it’s still around." 
I tend to be critical of parallels; Too often, I find that they veer dangerously into a reductive analogy. To say one phenomenon is "just like" another is usually tone-deaf at best and callous at worst (see: Ellen Degeneres's "This is just like being in jail" joke, which I learned of from Emily Fiorentino's page). Still, I think that the endurance of the USA PATRIOT Act is a useful example of how the American federal government exploits surveillance technology in times of crisis; Moreover, it is indicative of how surveillance technology disproportionately affects people of color. The USA PATRIOT Act allowed federal agents to profile individuals who they suspected to be Muslim, while Vox just reported that more Black and Latino Americans are affected by COVID-19 than whites. While I admit that the connection is certainly not 1:1—No tangible reports have been released that indicate that Black and Latino people are disproportionately affected by surveillance technologies—Past patterns of government surveillance merit concern. Gershgorn writes that "Apple and Google recently announced a new set of digital tools for detecting if individuals have come in close contact with those diagnosed with the coronavirus." If more Black and Latino people are affected by COVID-19, then it seems that people of this demographic may be most affected by these new technologies. – April 17th
IV. Contact Tracing & Pessimism/Helplessness
I found this article around the time it was published (which was around two weeks ago), but had some trouble accessing it until recently. It’s an opinion piece from the MIT Technology review titled “We need mass surveillance to fight covid-19—but it doesn’t have to be creepyby Genevive Bell. I kept coming back to it because of its narrative introduction, where Bell reports that the Australian research university where she works requires students who remain on campus to keep a “contact log” that catalogues where, when, and who they interact with on a daily basis. This is a form of “contact tracing” that is meant to limit the spread of COVID-19. 
Contact tracing is a practice with historical roots: It was used to help prevent the spread of  SARS, HIV/AIDS, typhoid fever, venereal disease, and influenza. Bell articulates the potential drawbacks of the practice from several angles. First, she asks her reader to think about how they would track their own activity, as well as to whom they would be comfortable reporting their every move. Next, she recalls the time she visited an Australian prison called Port Arthur, the structure of which was influenced by the panopticon; She writes that there, the incarcerated person was “regimented, documented, and constrained.” This acknowledges that surveillance-based abuse is a reality rather than a theoretical threat. She then reminds us that contact tracing was already taken to an abusive extreme in the case of Mary Mallon, an Irish immigrant cook who is better known by the epithet “Typhoid Mary.” 
After this, Bell asks “can we strip [contact tracing] of [its] moral and punitive overlays?” She believes it’s possible: She writes that if we establish regulations on data-collection (which would be the primary method of contact tracing) and reimagine the purpose of the practice, we might be able to develop a practice that is more humane than the past (and present, considering contact tracing is in place right now) suggests it can be. 
My knee-jerk, pessimistic answer to her question was, “No.” I don’t believe we can effectively reform any practice that reinforces the carceral system. Still, parts of Bell’s argument were intriguing. She writes that contact tracing can be seen as one avenue of a patient’s journey: “Here the focus could be helping someone decide whether and how to seek care, and guiding health-care providers to the appropriate treatment. As one physician put it to me recently, it’s about helping patients “triage their worry”—work out when they should be concerned and, equally important, when they should not.” Personally, I’ve had my worry triaged via contact tracing: I’ve called my local hospital, answered the questions that the healthcare provider asked, and been assured that, so long as I haven’t had any direct contact with someone exposed to COVID-19, I should be fine. This call was really helpful to me, a self-absorbed twenty-something with diagnosed anxiety; Moreover, up until ten minutes ago, it didn’t feel like it replicated the carceral system. Still, this may be because I was fine. What if I had been in contact with someone with COVID-19? Would I feel the same vitriol for them that America felt for Mary Mallon? Probably. 
Bell goes on to write that contact tracing

“could be a way of identifying hot spots without identifying individuals—a repository of anonymized traces and patterns, or decentralized, privacy-preserving proximity tracing. This data might help researchers or government agencies create community-level strategies—perhaps changing the layout of a park to reduce congestion, for instance. It might help us see our world a little differently and make different choices—a collective curve flattening. We could create open-source solutions or locally based tools.”

This sounds nice—I’d love to live in a world where our first response to a virus hot spot is to help the community—but the data could also be used to ostracize a community hot spot, which would be more likely if the hot spot is a community of color. We see this now: People of color are more likely to die of COVID-19 than white people.  Ultimately, contact tracing is a method that authorities are using to help prevent the spread of COVID-19. I wish I could offer a better method for prevention. I wish I knew a way to help other than what I’m doing: Sheltering in place, washing my hands, etc., because I still feel helpless, both in the face of my own situation and the situations I know others are in.