Moral dilemma of Covid

FAMILY OR HUMANITY?

In any disaster, whether it's natural (floods, droughts, heat, cold, tsunamis or earthquakes) or manmade (pandemics, communal clashes, riots, demonetisation or scarcities), the worst-hit in the urban landscape are usually the daily breadwinners of various hues — small-time vendors and tradesmen in the unorganised sector.

The second wave of the pandemic this year is threatening to overwhelm most systems — healthcare, logistics, transportation, education, entertainment and more. We are witnessing various states of lockdowns, and in many parts of the country, as small and unorganised businesses shut down, the working classes apprehensive of their livelihoods are once again being uprooted and commencing their march towards their rural homes. They can expect little succour from an overwhelmed state, which at the best of times is not overly caring of their interests, except for electoral handouts. This is a human tragedy at an unprecedented scale.

The situation presents a very real moral and ethical, and seemingly game-theoretic, dilemma before us.

On the one hand, as individuals, our own safety and that of our loved ones reigns uppermost in our thoughts. Accordingly, we feel the need to isolate ourselves strictly from strangers and outsiders. So, threatened by the pandemic, it has become standard practice for most functioning gated communities to prevent outsiders from entering their properties —­ small vendors, workmen, delivery men and even domestic staff. Even those who live in non-gated colonies consider it prudent to postpone all maintenance work relating to painting, carpentry, repairs, leakages, plumbing, electricals, so that the footprint of strangers and outsiders in their homes and premises is eliminated. Fair enough. From purely one’s personal view point, this looks like sound reasoning and the right thing to do, at least in the short run.

On the other hand, as we do so, we deprive many daily wage workers — painters, masons, plumbers, electricians, carpenters, small vendors and in some cases, even domestic staff who do not get paid or earn on the days they do not work — their meagre livelihoods. The families of such daily wage earners have to go hungry when the breadwinner of the family has no work. And lack of reasonably assured livelihood is what is driving millions of such working class, proud people, back to their distant and unwelcoming villages, where they are regarded as a non-earning burden on extended families. They are assuredly moving from a rock to a hard place.

So what is the right course of action? Should we be concerned about the welfare of our immediate families or be more concerned about larger humanity? And therein lies the dilemma. What’s the right thing to do?

Some of us perhaps won’t see a dilemma here, for we are unambiguously clear that safety of our families comes first, second and third. Others may see and feel the dilemma, but may yet opt for their family’s safety above the well-being and livelihoods of strangers. So what would be the best way to address the dilemma, which could maximise the interests for both parties?

It is not as if we were blind to the plight of the migrating workers, even the first time around. But for the most part, we blamed — and not without some justification perhaps — the governments, whether in the states or the Centre, for not having thought through the plight of the migrant labour and the inhuman challenges they face(d) amid Covid.

What about this time around? Their situation will get worse as more and more of us urban citizens postpone our day-to-day maintenance tasks or mini-projects, as work dries up for small vendors who employ these workers. So perhaps, not postponing our painting, wiring, carpentry or plumbing works could be the little drop that we need to add to this misery of ocean, in these surreal times. But would that not compromise the safety of our households?

Well, it does not have to. Safety and security of ourselves and our loved ones has to remain our top priority, but not our sole priority. Perhaps we should continue to safeguard ourselves and our loved ones, even as we continue to keep the small businesses alive and ticking by going that extra mile.

We could take a little extra care, exert ourselves more to ensure that the workers are allowed to carry on their regular tasks with a bit of handholding, say, with masks, sanitisers, or even clean clothes if one thinks a particular worker is not cleanly clothed; taking some extra precautions ourselves; and maybe even offer the workers a cup of tea or a minimal meal or a minor takeaway for their families to make their lives a tad easier in these difficult times. Maybe housing societies could ask regular vendors and others to carry a Covid-negative proof just as the ones we carry for our travels.

True, allowing such strangers and workers to come closer to our homes would entail a marginal increase in risk (of contracting Covid), but nothing that cannot be countered by intelligent handling, even as we do a world of good to a large segment of humanity.

In these times, unless we give business to small-time vendors (kiranas and their errand boys rather than e-commerce giants maybe?), small businesses will dry out. After all, in the long run, do we seriously expect our society to meaningfully survive without these workers and micro-entrepreneurs who smoothen our lives every day in a million different ways?

They already are drying out. As a matter of fact, even if we wanted our house painted, our plumbing fixed or a cabinet built, perhaps we will get no vendors today, as the workers have gone away. But it is this vicious circle that we need to break, slowly and steadily. As more enquiries keep coming, vendors would be better placed to retain their labour. Wisdom of the crowds can do as much wonder as stupidity of crowds can wreak havoc.

(The writer is Adjunct Professor, Schulich School of Business, York University, Toronto)