The Division of the Herd

Making sense of the vaccine debate.

My friend Jesse phoned me after a public demonstration on Wurundjeri Country. To some it was known as a freedom march whilst others labelled it an anti-lockdown protest. Jesse was troubled by the footage she watched on social media and the words she read in the news. She thought I may know people who attended.

I remember you mentioning some of your mates were into conspiracy theories.

This wasn’t an accurate depiction of what I said in a conversation we shared last year, although it wasn’t distorted either. I was speaking of friends who were cynical of mainstream media and had been researching alternative perspectives.

You mean conspiracy theories?

No.

But that’s what they are.

We were speaking in her back garden after the long lockdown in Narrm (Melbourne) had ended. I was sitting on an outdoor sofa under a grapevine that weaved through a slatted awning. Jesse handed me a cup of honey-coloured liquid with a sprig of mint floating in it, then sat down in the chair opposite me.

Did you make this yourself?

Yeah, we have lots of lemons growing.

I drank some. 

It’s sweet.

My eyes scanned the garden for the lemon trees.

How has your year been?

It has been a big one.

Hasn’t it.

We laughed.

How have you made sense of it?

I hadn’t been asked a question like this since the beginning of the pandemic. I began to reflect. I must have furrowed my brow because she said

Take your time.

as she sat back in her chair and looked up at the afternoon sky.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Truth. Capital T truth. 

Truth?

Yeah, I think it’s changing. Like if you think about it, our society was founded on particular ideas of truth, particular values that people agreed upon.

Like a bill of rights?

Exactly.

Which we don’t have?

No, there’s some in the constitution, but it’s

It’s not like Turtle Island.

No.

Or France.

Yeah.

Sorry I interrupted you.

It’s fine.

I continued. I spoke of these Truths, certain ideas that formed our laws, our government, our society - a lot of them Christian, most of them are European - and how it seemed to me that these Truths were being questioned. 

Think about all of the protests last year.

You mean Greta Thunberg?

Yeah, the climate protests, and the ones in Chile, in Lebanon. They were everywhere. People were asking questions of their governments, of the institutions that formed the heart of their societies. The media. Our politicians were denying environmental catastrophe even though a significant proportion of the world was on fire. And then Covid comes along, in the middle of all of that, and Governments responded to it, and some people questioned their response and sought alternative perspectives on the situation.

Conspiracy theories?

No.

But that’s what they are.

If you want to use that label.

Well how would you describe them?

Like…

I think I furrowed my brow again.

It’s like at university. When I wrote my honours thesis, I was required to seek out a range of different sources, different writers reflecting on the same topic, rather than a single perspective.

But it’s not like their sources are peer reviewed?

No, but it’s not like it’s some person’s blog post.

Yes it is.

Not always. Anyway we all do this.

Do what?

Seek perspectives on the situations we face, the only difference is that right now we are all facing a similar situation.

Covid?

Yeah, so it’s easier to discern how differently we all view the world.

Because we are all talking about the same thing?

Exactly, but we all reflect on that same thing in different ways. One person listens to podcasts, another speaks with their neighbour. And it’s not like fifty years ago when we were all reading the same newspaper, there is so much more information out there and so many different opinions to engage with.

But you said you’ve been thinking about truth?

Yeah.

With a capital T.

Yeah. I think that Truths are changing, shifting from the form they once took when we founded the societies we live in and it’s like, without realising it, we are debating the Truths of the society we are becoming.

This was the conversation that Jesse was referring to. Of course writing it here I am offering my own memory of that conversation, and memory distorts the past it recalls, but I never suggested my friends were “conspiracy theorists”.

That’s a very loaded term right now.

You know what I mean.

It’s July 2021, and we are on the phone to each other.

That conversation we had?

In my backyard.

Yeah I remember it.

So what are these people on about?

Which people?

The protestors.

I don’t know.

Didn’t you see the footage?

Yeah.

So?

That doesn’t mean I know why they were there.

Did any of your friends attend?

Not that I am aware of, but I’m not in Melbourne.

Where are you?

At the time I was sitting on the back deck of my Mum’s house. I had been staying with my family on Arakwal Country in Mullumbimby, trying to escape the southern winter and getting stuck when new Covid cases emerged, resulting in a new wave of lockdowns and border closures. There is a sign on the side of the road as you drive into Mullumbimby that exclaims it’s “The Biggest Little Town in Australia”. It’s a charming rural community that was founded as a logging town before becoming a farming town and then a hippy town when surfers converged on nearby Byron Bay in the 1960s.

Surely that perspective is abundant up there?

Anti-lockdown?

Anti-vax! I thought Mullumbimby was the anti-vaccination capital of so called Australia?

I wouldn’t say the capital, I think that’s a generalisation, the opinion is much more varied than I expected. There are a lot of people who are reluctant to get the vaccine, but I feel it is proportionate to the rest of the country. It’s a small town, so different perspectives are visible and present, but at the time I said

There’s a lot, but no more than those who will get the vaccine.

And you know people who are reluctant?

I do.

And what’s their perspective?

The way I see it, a lot of people in Mullumbimby and the whole Byron Shire use alternative medicines when treating illness and disease - like naturopathy, homeopathy, Chinese Medicine - and if they were to treat themselves for Covid, they would feel more comfortable treating it in that way.

Or with ivermectin?

Yeah maybe, who knows what they might choose, but the Government are encouraging everyone to get vaccinations, which have mostly been developed by pharmaceutical organisations that some people around here wouldn’t normally engage with. So it’s not specifically anti-vax, it’s also pro-alternative.

I see.

And these vaccinations were developed rapidly, which increases their hesitation. And it’s not like the Government is trying to communicate to this group in a way that would make them feel more comfortable, just like they didn’t think through how to communicate their lockdown messaging to migrant communities who don’t speak English. There has been a lot of assumptions and generalisations made throughout the pandemic, and the Government relies on the community to share these messages, and a lot of the community’s approach to this reminds me of being peer pressured in high school. I imagine for some people it feels like they are being bullied.

Have you been vaccinated?

I haven’t.

But you will?

If I was still living on Wurundjeri Country, I imagine I would have done so already, but I’m living in a rural environment surrounded by nature and the cases aren’t close to us, so it’s not front of mind.

Eventually a few cases appear and we go into a lockdown for a month and a half. Days blur into a temporal mass that is difficult to grasp. Bed to toilet, cupboard to kettle, couch, computer. It’s 11:30! I might go for a walk. Want to watch a movie? How is it already September? Meetings and events are rescheduled as I redefine achievement from completing a project to finishing a book. Self-criticism swirls through my brain as I comprehend the lack of progression in my life. The expansive horizon that once inspired explorative journeys is now replaced by a living room wall encouraging internal questions of past experiences and future longings. This imposed rut once offered a reprieve from external stimulation, a moment to look back and forward, to reflect and project, to stop and change. But as that moment lengthened with ongoing lockdowns, wall contemplations became navel gazing as my belly button expanded into a vast void that I no longer recognised, my body forgetting the movements that once defined who I was.

Who am I now? Emerging from this opaque cocoon, not yet knowing the world I am moving into, it feels impossible to answer this question. Despite the collective nature of the pandemic its effects have been unique, as we have navigated the shifts and turns of the past 18 months in solitary confinement. And in being so physically detached from the civil society that defines our behaviours, have we ever been so connected to our personal feelings and beliefs?

We read the news and watch press conferences, we have meetings on Zoom and Teams, we engage in community through glass screens and copper wiring. Our words lag behind our pixelated mouths, our tone of voice echoes in laptop speakers, our body language is hidden from built-in cameras. Yet the world continues to turn, we still breathe in and out, our heart continues to pulse blood as our body and brain feel rushes of emotion. Our fingers tap screens and keyboards whilst we post comments and send e-mails. Our opinions are expressed and received in isolation, so it was understandable to share that phone call with Jesse, a person trying to make sense of behaviours and opinions that appear so far away, trying to bridge that ever increasing gap between ourselves and another. If anything I wish conversations like this were more common, a person reaching out to a friend when life gets a bit confusing. The Australian Institute of Health and Welfare’s National Suicide and Self-Harm Monitoring System has indicated that more people are using crisis lines and other mental health services than since before the pandemic, as digital interactions do not satisfy our deep need for human connection and touch.

A few weeks after my call with Jesse, I call my friend Jack, who I haven’t spoken to for a few weeks, who has been in lockdown for the past two and half months on Bidjigal Country in Sydney. 

How are you going down there? I thought to check-in.

I’m driving, I am picking up a camera that I need to get fixed.

Jack is a filmmaker. He hasn’t been working much during lockdown, but has been able to do a few photography jobs as they have involved small crews. He seems happy, which is surprising considering how long he has been out of work and stuck indoors.

Maybe it is temporary because I’m out of the house for a change, but I am doing pretty well, I live 100 metres from the beach, which is a constant tonic during this time.

This reminds me how disparate people’s experiences of lockdown really are, how we objectively discern the severity of the Covid pandemic through numbers and statistics, even though the human experience is entirely subjective.

Things are opening up here too, I am going to a picnic on Saturday with a few friends.

That’s allowed?

Only if you are all vaccinated.

And if you’re not?

The existing rules apply.

Our new reality, where new lines of inequality have been drawn - no longer defined by the more traditional ideas of sex, gender and race - determined by beliefs of health and wellness. I read an article where someone describes it as “vaccine apartheid”. It seems loaded, but whichever way you want to look at the current situation, there’s a weight to the decisions that are being made. This weight may be the cumulation of the past year and a half, of the lockdowns and changes inspired by this pandemic; it could be the fear of disease and death or the anxiety induced by our increasingly limited freedoms. It could be what Jack is experiencing in the eastern suburbs of Sydney.

Our friendship group is completely divided. People we want at the picnic can’t be there.

What are people’s reaction to that?

It varies, I mean everyone is frustrated but for different reasons.

You mean whether they are pro or anti vaccines?

I wouldn’t say any of this group is anti-vax, it’s more that they are vaccine hesitant.

It’s the first time I’ve heard this term. It makes sense that this new reality has inspired new categories reflecting new viewpoints.

And then other members of the group are hesitant to meet with those who haven’t been vaccinated.

Why, because it’s technically illegal? Actually, is it even illegal?

I think it is.

Ever-changing rules and laws, a key part of the State and Federal Governments’ response to the spread of Covid, have defined personal and social life since the beginning of the pandemic. The Federal Biosecurity Act 2015 and State specific Acts - like NSW’s Public Health Act 2010 and Victoria’s Public Health and Wellbeing Act 2008 - enabled Federal and State Governments to call a State of Emergency and swiftly pass Covid-specific legislation. These new laws have been announced at the infamous daily press conferences - led by Premiers, Health Ministers and Chief Health Officers - and covered by the media who summarise the enacted laws in print and online. For some, following these updates have been necessary to understand the changes in their society; for others, it has been difficult to follow, preferring to rely on explanations from friends and family. There have also been those who have wilfully avoided this news as part of a wider boycott of mainstream media, as well as migrants who were isolated from these laws as Government bodies did not translate new regulations, nor create communication channels to directly notify these communities. This drew wider attention during the hard lockdown on the nine public housing towers in North Melbourne, Flemington and Kensington in July 2020, where residents were oblivious of the Victorian Government’s directives as they were locked in their apartments by police. Eventually local councils, small businesses, NGOs and community mutual aid groups stepped in to fill the multi-lingual void and translate Government directives.

It has been hard to keep up.

Is that why they’re hesitant?

Who?

The vaccinated mates who don’t want to meet with the unvaccinated mates?

Right. Yeah. Maybe. I think a lot of people are just scared of getting Covid and passing it on.

But they wouldn’t turn up to the picnic if they had Covid?

No.

So what’s the fear?

That they’re asymptomatic.

But from my understanding, vaccinated people are still able to transmit Covid to others.

Really?

Yeah.

It’s just that the vaccine reduces their risk of getting infected in the first place, and if they are infected, it’s not as severe.

Right.

But don’t quote me on this, like I am pretty sure of it but

Who’s to know what’s true anymore?

Exactly.

I am surprised whenever I meet someone with some level of certainty in their opinions on Covid or vaccines or anything happening during this time of fear and distrust. I’ve tried to approach life with uncertainty and humility by being present and honest in the moments I experience. I feel into my breath to feel into my body to process the spiralling thoughts in my head to move forward. And if these movements lead to conflict, I reflect on them, both within myself and with others, and then attempt to remedy the situation with new choices. Some may say I am walking on egg shells, but I prefer to think that I am walking into a dark room and trying not to move too fast to avoid breaking anything I bump into. A way of being to meet the fear and distrust, which I feel has also been inspired by the isolation of lockdown highlighting the clear distinction between personal and social space; or the internet and social media platforming the diverse perspectives that exist in the world; or cancel culture encouraging me to think before I speak. Ultimately I now appreciate that I exist within a society with people in different bodies from different cultures with different experiences and different world views.

Jack gets to the camera store and says goodbye. A few days pass without thoughts of Covid spiralling through my head as Mullumbimby and the Byron Shire emerge from lockdown with an easing of restrictions. I head to the local Farmers Market, a key thread in the social fabric of Mullumbimby, and I bump into an old friend, Pat.

I didn’t realise you were living here.

I got out of Sydney as I have some work up here.

During lockdown?

Yeah.

Pat is waiting for a chai at a stall that serves Indian-inspired breakfast dishes.

Are you still in construction?

I am. What about you, when did you get up here?

I explain how I left Narrm and got stuck in Mullumbimby when the state borders were closed a few months earlier.

So you escaped the madness then?

What madness are you referring to?

You know what I mean.

Everyone seems to have a different view of madness at the moment and I am curious what yours is.

Isn’t it obvious?

I shake my head. We’re sniffing around each other like a couple of dogs. Pat drinks his chai.

The fascism that has taken hold of this country.

Ah! I understand.

I’m glad you do. I don’t understand how people are willingly submitting to what is being imposed upon them.

I don’t think it’s that simple Pat.

Why not?

Because people have agency, they choose who and what they listen to. It’s not like the Government says jump and everyone says how high.

Sure it is.

Well I feel our society is more complex than that.

But it’s so explicit.

What is?

How they are removing our freedoms and increasing their power whilst people just sit at home binge watching poorly made television, which is understandable considering there’s no longer any debate in the media that may otherwise engage them, most of the news is pushing its repetitive lockdown and vaccine agenda, and any view that appears on social media that counters this popular narrative is being removed or shutdown by both fact-checkers and the Government.

I did see that.

Pat was referring to the Surveillance Legislation Amendment (Identify and Disrupt) Bill 2021 that allows law-enforcement agencies and authorities to edit, add, copy and delete our online data.

Does it bother you?

Of course it bothers me.

It’s fascism.

Yeah but this is Australia.

Which is why it’s so shocking.

I’m surprised this shocks you considering the colonial history of this continent.

Yeah but this is different.

Is it? Whether they’ve changed or not, the State and Federal Governments have long been perpetuating barbarism through their policies towards Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, refugees and asylum seekers, migrants, disabled bodies, the LGBTQI+ community, essentially anyone they have deemed other to their own populace. My Dad, Aunty and Grandfather all had to renounce their Italian ancestry just to gain citizenship to this place.

I understand this past, I am sympathetic to Australia’s shadow.

Sure.

This just feels more extreme.

Again, maybe for you, but just the other day a friend told me how the army arrived in a remote Aboriginal community to vaccinate everyone, wearing their uniforms.

Terrible.

Absolutely, which was traumatising for everyone there, not due to the particular act of vaccination, but because it stirred up feelings and memories of the Intervention, which was less than 15 years ago.

What’s your point?

I’m just saying there’s a greater context to what you’re speaking to that extends well beyond this moment in history, or your’s or my particular cultural context. I think that a lot of people don’t trust the Government messaging, and if they get vaccinated, or don’t try to escape lockdowns, or don’t protest that doesn’t define them as submissive. I think a lot of people appreciate that the Federal and State Governments have been heavy-handed in their implementation of their particular viewpoint and that they have always approached matters in this way, it’s just that this may be the first time it has impacted upon your life.

I’m guessing you have been vaccinated then?

Does it matter?

I’m just curious.

I am now, but why does it matter? It’s something I still struggle to get my head around. My current understanding is that a lot of vaccinated individuals fear that a greater number of unvaccinated people equates to a higher chance for the virus to mutate into new variants that will deem current vaccines ineffective. Whereas the unvaccinated’s concerns vary: were the creation of these vaccines rushed; do the financial and political ties of the companies who created them compromise the vaccines being deemed the only preventative medicine for Covid; what is the severity of the vaccines’ side effects; and why aren’t we discussing possible alternatives? All of these are legitimate concerns that can be obscured by the emotions that the imposition of vaccines and lockdowns have inspired in all of us. The fact remains that we all seek individual and herd immunity and achieving this, we hope, will alleviate the fears that currently define our society and obscure our perceptions; but can we become a herd when our ideas and actions are not aligned?

Pat and I discussed my vaccination status until we spoke of other aspects of our lives before saying goodbye and parting ways. I hope the next time our paths cross he will smile when he sees me, it’s hard to predict how these conversations affect a person through these times. I appreciate that trust has become a rare commodity. I cherish it when it’s offered to me and I try to cultivate it within myself, as it feels like misinformation and suspicion will solidify as a core part of our daily lives. Courses are proliferating training people to discern what misinformation is, but I wonder whether this is even possible, if objectivity is a reality or if subjectivity is the perpetual norm? How do we define truth when the internet has offered us all a platform to tell our own story? And through this spread of the many perspectives on a single issue or idea, are we finally appreciating the deeper complexity of the reality that we label reality? 

As far as I can see the herd is splitting, creating space for a redefinition of the societies we live in; but were our societies ever aligned or were the dissenting voices too hard to hear? It seems to me that this is the natural order of a disordered universe.