Contagious coverage in the era of social media
My lao lao passed away on January 16, 2020.
I was preparing for class when my mother told me the news. “Don’t think about it too much,” she assured me via text. “Just focus on your studies. Spend time with your sister. I’ll be back after the New Year.”
And so, my mother booked the first flight she could find and flew back to Shenyang to attend her mother’s funeral.
On my birthday, I realized that my mother’s journey home would not be as smooth as I had anticipated. By January 24, there were 916 confirmed cases of the novel Coronavirus in Mainland China and 25 confirmed cases in other locations. Numbers of infections and deaths near the epicentre of the outbreak, Wuhan in China’s Hubei province, rose at alarming rates. Western countries like Canada, the United States, and France announced several cases of their own. A few people who had travelled back from Wuhan found themselves afflicted by this unfamiliar form of pneumonia. I’m writing this article on the evening of January 28, and there have been 5,578 cases as of 6:00 PM EST. I am certain by the time this piece is copy-edited and published, the numbers will have grown exponentially.
I don’t remember the SARS outbreak—which was caused by another type of Coronavirus—all that much (I was five years old in 2003). I have been informed that this new strain of the Coronavirus, perhaps unsurprisingly, presents similar symptoms and similar consequences. Bruce England, a survivor of SARS and a retired paramedic, explains that people were not privy to transparent coverage of the epidemic that afflicted hundreds of Torontonians almost twenty years ago. Information was not shared quickly enough, making efforts for prevention and treatment difficult for healthcare professionals.
England’s observations are both germane and inapplicable to what’s been going on this time around. On the one hand, we find ourselves demanding more transparent and accessible sources of facts. On the other hand, we are in no shortage of details being shared quickly. Indeed, the new Coronavirus is not the only contagion to have gone viral. Coverage of the outbreak has gained traction on social media platforms to a remarkable and deleterious extent.
Having only downloaded Twitter at the start of this Gregorian calendar, I was ill-prepared for the onslaught of articles concerning this mysterious sickness. It was both frightening and perplexing to witness so many facts and figures thrown around left, right, and centre. Some accounts, many of which I trusted, posited that the number of people infected resided in the thousands. Others argued the real number to be in the tens or even the hundreds of thousands. And to be expected, Twitter also featured a plethora of conspiracy theories.
Most devastating to encounter online were all the overt and covert forms of racism against Chinese people. From major news sources reporting the “deepest flaws and contradictions in a Chinese system that, for all its historic feats, remains a work in progress” (I would argue that China is not the only country with political and healthcare systems in need of serious re-examination[Office3] ) to countless comments articulating how the Chinese had reaped what they had sown, it was clear that deep-seated fear and hatred toward Chinese people arose from the shadows of this outbreak. Confronted by declarations announcing there were only 1.4 billion more to go, as well as demands to blow up the Hubei province, I was saddened by the lack of empathy extended towards China in its time of crisis.
Equally troubling was the proliferation of problematic memes generated by Chinese Canadian students on UofT Facebook pages. I must have scrolled through dozens of these images on my feed, ranging from people in HAZMAT suits traipsing through Robarts to the “Coughed on by an Asian Kid, Guess I’ll Die” meme, to the “Tag Yourself, Which Face Mask Are You?” meme. I understand the need to find the humour in everything, especially when I’m sure I’m not the only UofT student to have family back in China. But I cannot help but feeling these jokes often cross the line from comedy into mild racism.
I am reminded of the attitudes of yellow peril that permeated centuries of Canadian history. The Chinese Immigration Act of 1885 enforced hefty head-taxes that prevented labourers from reuniting with their families. The Chinese Exclusion Act of 1923 outright banned Chinese people from immigrating to Canada. Though I doubt the Coronavirus will spark such radical acts of legislation, I am positive that anti-Chinese rhetoric, internalized racism, and fear-mongering are here to stay.
In times of uncertainty, it is imperative to be cognizant of the contagious effects of inaccurate and reactive reporting on social media. It is as painfully easy to read exaggerated numbers and inconsistent reports as it is to mindlessly share them. To read and believe such false stories and then to spread them is to perpetuate a different, but equally severe disease.
Verify your sources. Continue to be critical towards the researchers, writers, and publishers of the facts you absorb. There have been plenty of claims that the Chinese government is diminishing numbers on purpose as well as speculations that the World Health Organization is outputting significantly underwhelming reports to snuff out “warranted” panic from the masses. In the past, I have found the WHO to be a credible source. Indeed, I would advise you to take the aforementioned arguments with a grain of salt.
Johns Hopkins Whiting School of Engineering has developed an online dashboard that tracks the spread of the novel Coronavirus. This project, as described by Lauren Gardner, aims to provide the public with an understanding of the situation as it unfolds, with transparent data sources. The website is incredibly easy to navigate, updating every couple of hours, with its sources accessible in the bottom right-hand corner of the page. In the top right-hand corner, the website specifies the numbers of deaths and recoveries. I have been keeping up with this dashboard for the past week. So far, the ratio between deaths and recoveries appears to be growing smaller. If you are on Twitter, I would recommend visiting Jane Lytvynenko’s thread on debunking false (and often racist) claims regarding the Coronavirus. Lytvynenko (@JaneLytv) is a reporter for BuzzFeed News and is based in Toronto.
I would also highly encourage you to contribute instances where you have felt racialized or persecuted by the effects of this outbreak. I know that I desperately wished to write this article so I could relieve the anxiety I felt inside. In such times, we need to be in solidarity with people who are directly impacted and in support for those around the world whose livelihoods will be hurt in the process of recovery.
I am constantly thinking of my mother, who I am sure is thinking more of her own mother than of the Coronavirus. I am pained that she is not here to comfort me and that I am not there to comfort her. I cannot imagine what it’s like in Shenyang right now. But I know she has a strong support system. Indeed, in the midst of calamity, Shenyang and dozens of other Chinese cities are braving on with perseverance and compassion.
Like SARS and the Swine Flu, I know this outbreak will eventually run its course. It won’t be pretty, for sure. So many people will become sick and lose their lives. So many people in North America, Europe, and Australia will be subjected to gross acts of explicit and implicit discrimination. This situation is tragic on all fronts. But remember, you cannot protect yourself from illness with impulsive and inaccurate reporting. You cannot defend your country’s borders by reinforcing racist rhetoric. So please: stay alert, wash your hands, and check your facts.
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