I can afford to self-isolate. But only because others don’t.
I guess I must reveal a little too much of myself on social media. Someone recently described my lifestyle during the coronavirus pandemic as ‘ascetic’ and they’re not wrong. As a middle-aged guy at moderate risk of the bug, I have pretty much restricted myself to walks, runs and food shopping, plus visits to elderly relatives observing whatever rules are in place at the time.
I did surface just a little in the summer when cases of Covid were suppressed, but never went crazy. And, by many people’s standards, I’ve been leading a pretty restricted life since early September. I even turned down some face-to-face work in the autumn in favour of extra Zoom. It seemed safer.
But the person who’d observed my abstemious lifestyle got me thinking. He made the point that I could only behave in the way that I do because others don’t.
And, of course, he’s 100% correct.
The lifestyle of those of us who work from home depends on the workers in the Amazon warehouse, the engineers who fix our web connection and our local postman. It relies on Uber Eats drivers and the guy from DPD or Hermes who’s dropping off the latest package from Pretty Little Thing. If 24-hour logistics operations and retail home delivery didn’t exist, our ability to sit at home and obey all the rules would be severely undermined.
Some of the people involved in delivering the services I’ve described will be regular salaried employees. Others will, however, be gig workers — notionally self-employed in the so-called ‘contingent’ economy.
Government figures in 2018 suggested just under 5% of the workforce is involved in gig work, although the TUC suggests the figure is more like 10%. This is the world of the precariat — people who are living hand to mouth, often on a low and unpredictable income, and without many of the benefits and support that salaried workers enjoy.
One issue that has come up time and time again in the UK during the coronavirus crisis is the need for people to self-isolate if they have the bug or if they’ve been in contact with others who have. It’s a fundamental tenet of epidemiology that you only slow the spread by isolating those who have the disease. In the case of Covid, that obviously also means people who are carrying it without displaying any symptoms.
If you’re a gig worker and you don’t feel particularly ill, the pressure is always on to go to work. You wouldn’t want to get a test — even in a city such as Liverpool that has been offering them freely — for fear that you would be found to be positive. And if you’re told to self-isolate because of a call from a contact tracer or the dreaded ‘ping’ of an app, the inclination may well be to ignore it, despite the legal obligation. You need the cash. The notification is probably nothing.
As a consequence, there has been much political pressure on the government to provide adequate financial support for those who are self-isolating. Many argue that it is impossible to get on top of the epidemic without it. While it’s true that £500 is available to people who are on low incomes or claiming benefits, it’s questionable whether the net is cast widely enough or the financial compensation is adequate for people taking 10 days off work.
And remember, the scheme also relies on employers playing ball. There is often a lot of pressure on people to continue working. What if your boss tells you that they expect you to come to work? Do you challenge them? Off the record, I’ve been told that the pressure is — ironically — often greatest in sectors such as health and social care.
I wonder if the government’s apparent reluctance to enhance the safety net still further isn’t just a question of the total sums of money involved. After all, the UK government has borrowed unprecedented sums of money and is in more debt than at any time since World War II. A few extra billion isn’t going to break the bank, with record low interest rates.
My suspicion is that inaction is driven by another factor. Proper support for self-isolation among the self-employed and gig workers would quickly bring the retail economy shuddering to a halt and cause a further crisis in health and social services. Not only that, but it would start to prevent other people from self-isolating.
If I can’t order my food from Morrisons or Tesco and have it delivered direct to my door, what choice do I have but to go to Morrisons or Tesco myself? If I need to buy other products when all the non-essential shops are closed, what do I do? I panic. And I start to realise exactly how much I rely on the worker in the Prime van, the guy packing that van at the depot and the lorry driver delivering the product to the depot in the first place.
The working world in 2021 is one of endless interconnection. And so is the world of self-isolation.
Phil Woodford is a writer, trainer and lecturer, specialising in marketing communications and creativity. He holds a degree in sociology from the London School of Economics and master’s degree in occupational and business psychology from Kingston University London. Phil co-hosts a weekly news review show on Colourful Radio, broadcast from London’s Africa Centre.
