Each phase of the pandemic has brought about a new collective emotional state. So where are we now? Why, when things are getting “better”, do many of us not feel hugely positive or optimistic? Feeling a bit numb or low is completely normal and rational after what we’ve been through. Last year, the Government launched a “stay and spend” scheme, which the chief executive of the Irish Tourism Industry Confederation described as a “complete flop”. What boost could the Government give that would actually help us? I’d settle for two bank holidays a month, and the mass-issuing of vouchers for therapy. I’m only half-joking. People have endured knock after knock; tragic ones, financial ones and the low level white noise of the day-to-day difficulties that come with navigating this bizarre time.
When the pandemic hit, a lot of people in Ireland who were overworked, burned out, and suffering from a low quality of life and high cost of living, found at least some solace in the sense of a pause, although that was also accompanied by personal financial devastation for many. But now, it feels as though there’s a pandemic burnout happening. It’s normal to feel ground down by this torrid time. Just because the experience of many will be relatively privileged in a country like Ireland doesn’t make it any less real.
When things stopped, people took stock and like any economic shock, the outcomes will be subtle and seismic
There seems to be a lack of appreciation for what has been lost, and how difficult it will be to regain those losses on an individual level. There is widespread grief being experienced by those who are bereaved, which is not being adequately acknowledged. There is a collective grief and trauma as well. Obviously this is felt most acutely by those who have lost loved ones, but also by frontline health workers.
Economic scarring
Nearly everyone I talk to is sick of work. I don’t mean bored with their actual jobs, but literally sick of labour itself. This “what’s it all for?” moment that popped up at the outset of the pandemic hasn’t gone away. People’s values have shifted. When things stopped, people took stock, and like any economic shock, the outcomes will be both subtle and seismic. Returning to old rhythms feels unwise and inappropriate. These are all also quite privileged concerns. A lot of people don’t have the luxury of rumination.
The economic scarring of the pandemic will be long and profound. Many who suffered the deepest cuts are still nursing bruises from the last recession. This would not be so serious if people’s lives had solely been upturned by the pandemic. If that was the case, the solution would be obvious: when the pandemic is over, things won’t be so bad. But there was already a huge amount of strain on people because of the housing crisis and high cost of living. Then there’s the underlying concern about whether the “cancelled” aspects of our lives – from office work to travel to socialising – are now desirable or even relevant. What are we “opening back up” into? When “real life” returns, how will people cope with its inadequacies or anti-climatic aspects?
Rental supply
Rents are still rocketing, and rental supply is at an all-time low. While much of the discourse around the rental crisis has focused on cities, what we’re also seeing is huge inflation outside large urban areas. Year on year, according to the latest Daft report, rents rose by 8.6 per cent in Leinster (outside Dublin), 13.7 per cent in Munster, and 14.7 per cent in Connacht-Ulster. In Kerry alone, rents are up 17 per cent. Outside Dublin, there are just 789 homes available to rent. This is an extreme crisis. The number of homes available to rent in Dublin is down 44 per cent in a year. In this context, how on earth do people leave cities in search of more space and lower rents to work remotely? I know it’s hard to conceive of Ireland’s housing crisis getting worse, but in the short to medium term, it will.
After a long time of feeling hemmed in, the feeling of oppression in the housing crisis may tip things over the edge
This will increase a sense of collective stress in Ireland, when after an era of curbs, the broader restrictions to living life to the full outside of the pandemic’s context still remain, and after a long time of feeling hemmed in, the ongoing feeling of oppression that characterises the housing crisis may tip things over the edge. The level of anger, resentment and frustration being felt by many, and directed towards the Government, is not properly understood in the political sphere. The problem this government has, time and time again, is that it has all of the facts and none of the perspective.
I know it might sound childish for the Government to enter a Kondo-esque “does this spark joy?” period, but collective happiness, pleasure and a sense of equality needs to permeate government policy. As individuals, we are in control of our personal actions and the choices we make. But people are going to want a break – both in terms of a period of rest, and to be released from a sense of stress and strain. That’s not about doling out frivolous treats, but about dramatically reconsidering the values that underscore policy.
If that doesn’t happen, those in charge will be met with the full – perhaps disproportionate – force of a population pushed to the limit.