The positives of pessimism as we await the pandemic peak via @Annecdotist

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Anne Goodwin’s drive to understand what makes people tick led to a career in clinical psychology. That same curiosity now powers her fiction.
A prize-winning short-story writer, she has published three novels and a short story collection with small independent press, Inspired Quill. Her debut novel, Sugar and Snails, was shortlisted for the 2016 Polari First Book Prize.
Away from her desk, Anne guides book-loving walkers through the Derbyshire landscape that inspired Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre.
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The positives of pessimism as we await the pandemic peak

10/4/2020

18 Comments

What character have you played in the early chapters of the dystopian novel we’re all living? Were you the sensible one whom the others ridicule or were you, like me, the seven-stone weakling who follows the trail into the ramshackle warehouse without telling her colleagues where she’s going or charging her phone? Although I’ve contracted no symptoms and stuck to the letter of the law, I look back in horror on my attitude of only a month ago; I ought to have been more cautious right from the start.

I’ve been trying to write this post since the UK went into lockdown (for the record that was 24 March). But it felt too daunting: I hadn’t yet processed my own emotions and was afraid of offending meliorist friends. Now that the UK version of the story has taken a surprising reversal – I hope you’ve been taking notes, pantsers! – with the hero/villain/prime-unresponsive-bystander in mortal danger, it might seem tasteless. But with the spring sunshine putting too wide a smile on our faces, luring us into the open like the wicked witch lured Hansel and Gretel into the gingerbread house, threatening doctors’ and nurses’ lives, I’m continuing the quest – which has popped up intermittently on this blog – to rehabilitate pessimism. Unlike Trump’s snake oil, it might actually save lives.

Denial

Our species is unique in our knowledge that our story will come to an end. Yet we live as if we’re immortal, banishing unpleasant realities from our minds. It’s automatic, normal and natural, and often adaptive: some research shows that depressed people are actually more realistic than those who aren’t depressed. A powerful defence that can contribute to our mental well-being can also trip us up.

Remember the footage from Wuhan? Did you brush it off as something that could only happen over there? I realise now that, at the time I was shocked at the death of the doctor who’d been forced to retract his initial warnings, I was personally and politically mired in denial myself. When the first case in Britain was reported, I passed it off as an aberration, even though part of me knew it would be impossible to trace all contacts of the Chinese tourists who fell ill in York.

Meanwhile, the government was briefing on herd immunity which seemed to make sense at the time. When I received my first email of an event cancellation – in which the organisers acknowledged they might be being “overly cautious” – I was about to gather with over a hundred others for a joyful choral day. (However, we can speculate that the organisers knew what was coming when they chose the piece: Elgar’s The Music Makers, which is about all creatives, pre-empts social distancing with a line about being compelled to live a little apart.)

Three weeks later, although we’d stopped hugging, I was still meeting up with friends. And only one person in my – admittedly small – social circle was scared.

Optimism isn’t always a virtue

When someone succumbs, fear is inevitable, but there’s a widespread delusion that a positive attitude pays dividends. The messages of support for our stricken Prime Minister as he went into hospital invoked a kind of martial courage; a metaphor that raises its ugly head in the cancer narrative, a particularly cruel legacy for the friends and family of those who fail to survive. When Wednesday’s news briefing described the PM as sitting up in bed and engaging positively, perhaps only the pessimists noted that sitting up is not necessarily a sign of progress in an illness that targets the lungs. But it’s a seductive message: when we’re vulnerable, we’re prone to the illusion of control.

Fortunately, it’s almost impossible now to deny the threat that faces us, and most stay safe indoors. There might be a range of reasons a minority flouts the regulations, but I imagine a misplaced optimism plays a part. We shouldn’t be surprised (although I am) that a government determined to Get Brexit Done! and to be upbeat about it, despite the obvious disadvantages, would be relaxed in its preparations for a pandemic. I’m more shocked, and disappointed, that the chief medical officer advising the Scottish government should travel to her second home in defiance of her own rhetoric. Perhaps she should have heeded her compatriot, Eddi Reader, who sang about deluding ourselves we’re the exception. Spoiler alert: we are not!

Balancing optimism and pessimism

To resist the undoubted temptations to escape the lockdown, we need to set aside our natural inclination towards denial and accept that the worst-case scenario could be our future. One of those statistics could be us, or a member of our family, or an unfortunate healthcare worker who has to treat us. As our hapless prime minister has hopefully discovered, there are no exceptions. You know this. I know this. So what next?

If pessimism keeps us safe from contracting and/or passing on the virus, bring it on! But not so much that we slump into depression. Once we’re miserable enough to bring up the drawbridge, worrying won’t make a jot of difference to whether we get through. Of course, switching off our anxiety is easier said than done but, misplaced or otherwise, we need our optimism to keep us indoors.

If you’re reading this, you’ll have access to a range of resources via the internet: gallows humour (a great form of denial); distraction (another useful defence); doing those jobs we wouldn’t otherwise have had time to do. Routine and purposeful activity are valuable ways of warding off depression but what seems most vital at this time is to do whatever feels right for you. Of course, I’d love for you to read one of my books or one of my other posts on the coronavirus pandemic but your best defence is working out what’s right for you and any others in your household.

Hope to see you on the other side!

If you’re planning to spend time reading, I have two posts out this week with lockdown recommendations: one focusing on literary fiction and the other celebrating the diversity of books available from my publisher, Inspired Quill.

If you’d rather listen than read yourself, I’ve recorded a new video:

A light-hearted story about a midlife crisis, featuring estate agents, a record shop and a Roger Daltrey lookalike, from my 2018 short story collection on the theme of identity, Becoming Someone.

I’d been thinking about how confusing it must be for patients with dementia right now if they wake up in intensive care. Indeed, severe illness can muddle the best minds. So it’s a small step from this week’s flash fiction challenge to the deluded heroine of my forthcoming novel, Matilda Windsor Is Coming Home, about a brother and sister separated for fifty years against the backdrop of the longstay psychiatric hospital closures. I’m pleased with my 99-word story, but there’s a technical flaw I wouldn’t allow in the novel. I wonder if you can spot it?

Good Friday, 2020

Matty has been abducted by aliens. She lies on her back, examined by spacemen, her lungs fit to burst on their oxygen-depleted rock. Matty has been rescued by welders. They will fuse the parts of her windpipe that have rusted and split. Matty is backstage, amid mumbling servants in fancy dress. Preparing for a new production, a mime for Easter, a Passion play. Naturally, Matty is the star.

The star? The chosen one? God’s only child, Jesus Christ? Matty does not want to be crucified. She struggles. She spits. “Shield your face!” says an alien. A welder? A nurse?

Happy Easter! Stay home, stay safe, stay sane if you can.

18 Comments

floridaborne link

10/4/2020 02:55:32 pm

Everything in moderation. What we have done is to blow nature's balance right out of the water.

We continue to take naturally occurring pathogens and think it's a good idea to weaponize them, then refuse to believe a whistleblowers when their government has allowed it to escape. It makes me wonder if we killed off most of our population 6000 years ago the same way we're doing it now, and that's how the myth of Pandora's Box was created.

More and more information keeps coming out about COVID-19 -- and some of it is the antithesis of what we once thought. Some of what we were doing could have been killing people.

We haven't allowed this disease to run its course -- and at the same time, this isn't something Mother Nature threw at us. We don't know what to expect.

I'm not going to allow it to frighten me, any more than I would stay home during flu season. But neither would I go to a hospital and try to touch (without gloves and a mask) every flu patient I see.

Moderation.

Anne Goodwin

10/4/2020 05:52:00 pm

Hi, Joelle, thanks for visiting (virtually). I'd agree with you ordinarily about moderation but it seems too late for that. In flu season I have a jab and go about my business as normal but there's no vaccination for this one. It would be great if we could all get a moderate dose and be done with it, but I don't think we can control its impact.

I like your hypothesis about Pandora's box and wonder what you've learnt about the virus that has defied your expectations.

I'm not so frightened either but I am angry at the deaths of health and social care staff.

Wishing you a pleasant Easter weekend.

floridaborne

10/4/2020 06:28:15 pm

650,000 people each year die from the flu. Millions are out of work. Small businesses are folding. We are, basically, operating under a police state.

I am sad about all the overworked health care professionals dying. Unfortunately, when you go into healthcare, you know that's a risk. I am concerned that we are losing our liberty, trying to trade it for safety, and in the process losing both our liberty and safety. Think China.

Thanks for a great debate. I always appreciate reading all aspects of a topic. I enjoyed reading yours.

Anne Goodwin

11/4/2020 01:11:16 pm

I agree we underestimate the impact of seasonal flu – the UK average is 17,000 deaths a year and we've only just passed half that for coronavirus. But our hospitals in the wealthy Western world have sufficient ventilators and intensive care beds for the number of patients who require them for seasonal flu. But there's a massive under provision for covid19.

I also agree that the impact on civil liberties and the economy is a concern. But it seems to me that if the most right-wing government of my lifetime is prepared to put the country into lockdown – albeit belatedly – there's something serious afoot.

Also you don't go into healthcare work assuming you are at risk of dying from an infection picked up from one of the patients you're treating, and it's even worse for the underpaid and undervalued staff in social care.

Thanks for the debate. Stay safe!

Charli Mills

11/4/2020 12:14:07 am

Hi Anne,

Your post is thought-provoking in many ways. I've enjoyed having read this on a Friday when my homework is completed early and I can mull over what you have pointed out. I appreciate how you were able to examine the role of pessimism.

I've equated denial with deliberately lying, so my knee-jerk reaction was to not accept that anything about denial could be positive. But then you got me thinking. Denial is like a coping mechanism. I had never really thought about how universal denial is in regards to our mortality. So I softened my rigid thinking on that topic, then came to a startlingly realization. While I've often thought I'd never be one to act from denial I completely embrace my capacity for imagination. I felt a bit smug, thinking, I don't need denial, I have imagination, I can write. Ha! Then I recognized that pretending the lives of others is totally denial.

I like to say I'm a meliorist, believing in the goodness of humanity and our ability to overcome, do good, spread light, etc. But I come to that position through decision. Native Americans have a story for pessimism versus positivity: two dogs war in our hearts. Which one wins? The one you feed. I like to think I choose to feed positivity, but I see the shadows. I agree that it is important to see what pessimism brings to our attention. But I still believe in feeding dog of positivity.

My third thought is how we differ on pessimism keeping us safe! Yes, I understand that too much optimism could lead to disregard of discomfiting constraints on our personal liberties. Yet, I think it's the pessimists among us that dismiss the seriousness of our pandemic. Their pessimism discounts the validity of our scientists raising the alarm and issuing the unprecedented measures we need to take to merely slow the spread . Maybe this thinking is pessimistic!

As for Matty, she is the one who helped me see the connection of denial to escape into imagination. Hopefully, I won't lose my way, yet I've often thought if I ever do, I'll be entertained.

Thank you for pushing the boundaries on perceptions! I enjoy your ability to bring a different side of an issue to light. In some ways, I think you are the perfect author to be exploring pandemic related behaviors.

Anne Goodwin

11/4/2020 01:47:11 pm

Charli, I'm moved by your thoughtful and detailed response to this post, especially knowing that positivity is your thing!

It's really helpful to me to realise that other people don't necessarily interpret denial as I do. Yes, it's a coping mechanism, a defence, a way of protecting ourselves – and too little and too much can both be maladaptive. Also, it's generally – and I'm thinking it in terms of psychoanalytic theory – unconscious.

So I wouldn't have thought about pretending the lives of others as denial – I'd have to think more about this, but I think making up stories is a kind of sublimation, which is still considered a defence, but a more adaptive/mature one than denial. It's a shift of attention onto something more pleasant and/or something we can control rather than blocking out the facts.

As to how much choice we have between optimism and pessimism, I think we've discussed this before and found differences between us. I don't deny that we have some flexibility in where and how we focus our attention, but some of that will be down to how our brains work. But insofar as we CAN choose, I suggest we need to feed the dog that has served us most faithfully/usefully, rather than assuming that optimism is always best. For many, a glass half-full attitude seems negative, but it really isn't for me.

But I'm intrigued that we differ on what the pessimists are up to right now! I think they're hiding at home but you think they're ignoring the lockdown? How would pessimists – I mean what's the mechanism – dismiss the scientific reports? If we think the science is depressing, wouldn't it be the optimists who would dismiss it? Wheras it fits more with the pessimistic overall worldview that things are always more awful than everyone admits?

The sad thing for Matty is that she doesn't know she's escaped into imagination so that her system can't easily adapt to change. Let's hope we both continue to be able to tell the difference.

Thanks so much for your support, sharing and friendship. Hopefully we'll stay safe despite our leaders' poor planning.

Charli Mills

13/4/2020 06:14:39 am

"...feed the dog that has served us most faithfully/usefully..." Huh. I hadn't thought of it like that. Well, Positivity's been the faithful and useful dog, then. It's so fascinating, the ways in which we can be so different as people and even in something like positivity versus negativity, it's not really an either or choice.

Ah, yes, we have had this discussion about choice. I watched the movie Harriet over the weekend and it was so well written, filmed and acted. It's about Harriet Tubman, the Moses who freed slaves. She felt so strongly about freedom that she was willing to choose death to gain it. Yet, in one poignant scene, she returns for her sister who refused to go, choosing to stay. But learning more about an altered brain, I'm also coming to terms with the ability to choose. Perhaps that's my optimism -- believing we all have choices.

I'm seeing pessimists dismissing the science as politicized and as Norah mentioned, fearing the economic impact of the lockdowns. Thus they don't believe the virus is as bad as they say, not because they are optimistic that it isn't, but pessimistic about measures being unnecessary. Or maybe I'm confused!

Our friendship and support is mutually appreciated. See, the optimist and the pessimist can be friends! And we both agree on our lack of leadership in our nations.

Anne Goodwin

13/4/2020 12:52:13 pm

Thanks for continuing the debate. Apologies for a reply that’s almost as long as my post.

As I said in my reply to D, I’ve been overwhelmed by the response but it’s also made me conscious of a mistake I repeatedly make when I raise this issue. I think I mentioned to you somewhere along the line that I was planning to write something about how we need both a glass half full AND a glass half empty mentality, which is closer to what I believe, but I get upset by a culture of what I perceive to be undue optimism (particularly in this case from our political leaders) and feel compelled to promote the minority view. But such a crude splitting into optimism versus pessimism can be unhelpful, as we project the unwanted parts from our own preferred side into the other.

On the other hand, I do think there is a preferred side for all of us. Rather like introversion-extraversion, we draw on bits of both but veer towards one rather than the other. What I like about the psychology of introversion-extraversion is that it’s less about how sociable we are than where we draw our strength: introverts need time alone to recover while extroverts need other people. Maybe optimists and pessimists need different types of reinsurance when times are tough: optimists responding better to messages of hope while pessimists need to know the hazards aren’t being ignored.

That’s certainly my position based on personal and professional experience. I feed the dark dog because that’s where I’ve found the answers to the most deep-rooted problems. A lot of people are depressed because they’re desperately waiting for someone to take their darkness seriously, to walk with them through the tough times freeing them to find their own light. I think positivity is the aim but the route towards it isn’t a straight line for many of us. I think it would be mistaken to starve either of those Native American dogs.

To me, your example of ignoring the science isn’t a mark of pessimism but of denial which I associate with optimism – and the research on depression I’ve referred to backs me up on this, but I concede there might be other research that refutes this. As I see it, the optimists are the ones saying to themselves they won’t catch the virus and so don’t need to stay home. Our PM is a prime example who now seems to think he’s been resurrected for Easter. It would be lovely if he’s learned something from his experience of hospitalisation but – call me a pessimist – I doubt it!

I think fearing the economic consequences is realistic, don’t you? But it a risk worth taking – and one our PM didn’t take quickly enough – to reduce the death toll. And one we can manage – so maybe the pessimism is in assuming we won’t recover?

The story of Harriet Tubman’s sister is a sad one. It might be pessimism, but she might have been physically and mentally exhausted. Hope is scary because when it shatters those shards can cut deeply but it’s also tragic when someone chooses not to try. But I also think of it the other way around in the optimistic Jews who didn’t flee Germany when Hitler came to power. But, since I didn’t heed the early warning signs of this virus, this self-confessed pessimist probably wouldn’t have done either.

I’ve been wondering about a case that was mentioned briefly on yesterday evening’s news. Would we feel the same about the death of a 40-year-old man reportedly choosing not to go to hospital because he didn’t want to die alone? I know nothing about the specifics of this case, and apologies to his family for using it as an intellectual exercise, but it seems like a case of extreme pessimism and a world away from what I’d want for myself and those I love. If he was 90 with underlying health issues, I’d understand it – although we’ve had a man of 101 survive hospitalisation in the UK – and I think my 99-word story shows I don’t underestimate the trauma of being treated for covid-19 or the psychological scars that might leave. Was he pessimistic, realistic or optimistic in a (probably mistaken) belief he could have an easy death at home?

As for friendship of opposites, one of my dearest friends did once say she wondered how we could be friends when we were so different. This was midway through a five-day walk in grim weather when I’d developed blisters. Removing my boots to tend to them, I didn’t take it kindly when she reminded me, apropos of cheering me up, we had only another seven miles to walk that day. We’ve never really discussed it but I wonder if optimists are afraid the pessimists will drag them down?

Norah Colvin

11/4/2020 01:13:13 pm

Interesting, thought-provoking post, Anne. I don't quite know how I feel about the pessimism/optimism debate. I'm pessimistic enough to fear this could go on for too long and that it may turn out that all the measures were unnecessarily strict and caused far more harm than was necessary. I'm optimistic enough to think (hope) that we might see an end to this soon, that the numbers infected and dying from this tyrant will be less than the predictions, and the world, united now in this battle, will remain united in the future.
I think all of us suffered from denial and disbelief in the beginning. It took a while to realise that the threat was real. I'm still not sure how real is it to many here and hope that we can continue to contain the numbers. There has been little community spread here. Most have brought it in from elsewhere. Cruise ships seem to have been a real problem. I don't understand how it got on so many cruise ships and spread (also in other ways) so quickly around the world. I guess we have ease of international travel to thank for that, but I still find it puzzling and ponder it.
That health workers die from this disease is incredibly sad and unfair. But then, death is unfair. Or is that life?
Matty's confusion in your story feels so real. It must be dreadful as you say. Everyone around would look strange in their garb with face masks and helmets, as if dressed up for a play. I can't pick the technicality. Sorry. It's fine to me.

Anne Goodwin

11/4/2020 02:15:18 pm

Thanks, Norah, I was thinking about you as I was composing my reply to Charli's comment, and then here you were, and Geoff behind you. What a lovely meetup!

Plenty are still in denial here, but I wonder if it feels less real in Australia because it came to you later and you've been able to contain it better. For you, the restrictions might indeed turn out to be unnecessarily strict – or it could be that things would have been so much worse if you hadn't gone into lockdown.

I suppose the virus could have easily spread of the cruise ships because of people in a confined space, but how it got there is hard to fathom. Unless it's a trick to put people off cruising – my idea of hell.

Well, the thing in Matty's story is that if the staff around her bed are masked, they won't be worried about her speaking. Also, she's either on a ventilator – and therefore the unconscious – or wearing an oxygen mask, so her spit wouldn't travel very far! Living with a former nurse who bristles at crime novels where the victim speaks while intubated, I felt compelled to acknowledge my mistake. I hope that didn't put you off the story.

Geoff Le Pard link

11/4/2020 01:23:54 pm

Well we won't ever agree on this one, Anne. Pessimism doesnt keep us safe. It keeps us down. Equally optimism gets us into trouble too. Its realism, whatever you sunny or sour inclination is. Optimism keeps us going to help at foodbanks, despite the risks because we believe its right. I stay in and took this seriously well before the shut down. But I'm not pessimistic that we will get through this. We will but it will be hard.
Of course maybe we need to define our terms better and pessimist/optimist might be far too blunt for this situation. The pessimists i know lack the necessary hope to keep going. My MIL is a case in point and it drains the energy you need to keep helping her. She's an extreme version so maybe a cheerful pessimist such as you are - you're always cheerful when i see you! - are in the grey zone which makes such a difference. Ditto the sort of stupid ill informed optimism of a Trump is downright dangerous. So maybe I'm a grey optimist - no, silver.. i prefer silver!
And while I know you have no regard for him and i could never vote for him, to call Boris hapless is a bit much. Personally i think they've done as well if not better than anyone amongst our politicians would have. They've made plenty of mistakes but which government of a nation on a similar scale hasn't?
Thanks for this chance to debate this. Very healthy. And when we're freed from this (there i go, assuming things will improve) we need to meet up again and just talk writing, life and everything!

Anne Goodwin

11/4/2020 02:44:39 pm

Lovely to see you here again, Geoff. Mm, those damn words do get in the way! I'm agreeing with you completely on realism plus morality to assess the risks and do the right thing. I admire you for acting early – I think you soft southerners were ahead of us further north!

You've got me wondering about those people who drain your energy with their negativity – is that what I call pessimism or something else? I'm lucky to be able to keep my mental distance from most of those characters and, yes, I'm generally cheerful. I think I tend to side with pessimism over optimism because I have a deep-rooted fear of the downside being denied. But this either/or labelling isn't so helpful as we back our projections/stereotypes of the other back and forth. I was actually going to write more about a third position of integration in this post but it was dragging on.

As for our PM, I was actually impressed initially with how he was handling things, especially in taking scientists' advice. But I think – and that's going to be my next post – his disregard of the negatives of Brexit have carried through to this crisis, with opportunities for action not taken, such as clubbing together with EU members to buy ventilators. And maybe he was unlucky to contract covid 19 or maybe it was his overoptimism that stopped him sticking to his own social distancing advice. And then we have his father telling us that Boris's hospitalisation means we can now start taking this thing seriously! Actually, I'm more enraged than pessimistic.

Thanks for debating this with me. And yes, I'm pretty confident we'll get to meet again and talk writing in real life. My Jane Eyre walk was planned for mid June but I doubt it will be going ahead this year. I don't think that's pessimistic, nor do I think it's optimistic to assume I'll be trapping those moors well before this time next year. Just reasonable based on what we know right now.

D. Avery link

11/4/2020 02:47:19 pm

If you were on Wordpress I could just hit "like" and run. I truly appreciate your post and the comments here; you all are helping me to frame some thinking I couldn't escape but also am having trouble articulating. I think I’ll give myself permission to put both on hold for now.
Here’s one of those truths that is so scary it might make you laugh:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=phsU1vVHOQI

Anne Goodwin

11/4/2020 06:11:42 pm

I'm overwhelmed with the response to this and thanks for adding yours. Glad it was useful and no need for any extra thinking right now when you've enough to do helping those kids tell the difference between maths and math, as well as keeping those ranch hands occupied.

Thanks for the video link – it's always good to get a reminder that there are worse governments than ours.

And yeah, I know it's a lot more hassle commenting here so I do appreciate whenever anyone takes the trouble.

D.Avery link

11/4/2020 08:13:21 pm

"Overwhelmed by the response..."
If you were properly pessimistic you'd assume we are all just bored with too much time on our hands.
Ok, that was sarcasm.
It's good stuff over here. Thank you for it.

Anne Goodwin

13/4/2020 02:38:44 pm

Ah, that is indeed a possible explanation for the response – or my friends are concerned I might go round the twist. Thanks for your quiet encouragement. It’s strange sometimes being out of step with the majority.

Norah Colvin

27/4/2020 12:30:29 pm

Wonderful post and discussion, Anne. I enjoyed every word.

Anne

29/4/2020 03:03:22 pm

Thanks, Norah.