by Thomas Alkemeyer
In the 1980s, the Chernobyl 'nuclear catastrophe' lent plausibility to the sociological thesis that 'status' and 'class' were losing their relevance: The radioactive cloud did not care about social differences. In the folk theories of everyday life, the self-image of being an abstract humanity that jeopardises its own survival with its inventions has since taken precedence over the realisation that we are not only a horizontally but also vertically structured (world) society. One expression of this is the perception that we are living in an age on earth that was essentially shaped by man, in which all people are affected indiscriminately by the destructive consequences of this shaping: 'man' as the victim of his own power to shape the world. One expression of this ambivalent self-image is the concept of the Anthropocene. This label, coined around the turn of the millennium by Nobel Prize winner in Chemistry Paul Crutzen, has been used for some years to describe a new geological era that began with the "Industrial Revolution" and is said to be man-made. It is a term that expresses man's modern claim to be the creator of and ruler over the earth and thus also includes the promise that man can remedy the damage he has caused with his technical expertise. Such an appointment of man as the creator and victim of his own living conditions helps to organise the silence about the dialectical connection between social formation and earth formation, between social change and natural change. Instead of social (power) relations, interest structures and the rationality of the capitalistically organised mode of production, the term Anthropocene presents 'man' as the author and actor of both the planetary disaster and the possible overcoming of this disaster. Another aspect of this fixation on humans is the illusion of unity that 'we are all' equally responsible for and affected by what we are doing and what is being done to us.
Although the coronavirus is not considered to be man-made in the discourses I am familiar with, it is also considered to be a catastrophe that affects us all equally worldwide and that we are all equally responsible for overcoming. For days now, I have been receiving messages by email, on WhatsApp or Telegram from all over the world invoking a sense of community and solidarity: the virus requires 'us' to stand together and care for each other; it is not just selfishness, but also the good, the solidarity in people that is being brought to the surface; as we are all affected, we should all fight the virus together, etc. etc. The image of a global human community of destiny is produced and reproduced, which, if at all, only seems to recognise the biological differences between young and old and between the previously ill and the healthy. This imaginary community is created using a variety of evocative and affective means. A few days ago, for example, more than 180 European radio stations simultaneously played what is probably the world's best-known and most popular football anthem, "You'll never walk alone" by the Liverpool band Gerry and the Pacemakers, as a sign of solidarity and hope in these "difficult times". According to the presenter of 'my' radio station, he had "goosebumps in his eyes": "Goosebumps" like in a football stadium, when the fans hold up their scarves in the club colours and sing with an extra dose of emotion for their club when it is in crisis. The club, that was all of us - at least in Europe.
Certainly, such assurances of solidarity and a sense of community can give us courage, make us feel good and nurture hope for better times. They touch me often enough, but not only in a positive way at the moment. Because somehow, in my opinion, there is also something untrue and false in the current outbursts of humanity. Because it is neither true that everyone was equal before the virus, nor that you never 'walk alone'. The mass media is currently discussing everything from the psychosocial consequences of the restrictions on public life and the curtailment of fundamental rights to the consequences of the return of strict border controls in the Schengen area and solidarity with the elderly and those who were previously ill. But so far I have hardly come across any studies or articles on the fact that the coronavirus crisis is also focussing on the consequences of social inequalities and power relations, as if through a magnifying glass. What do we actually know about infection risks, disease progression, mortality rates and the potentially existential psychosocial consequences of government measures in the various social classes and living environments? There is a big difference between being able to move around in spacious living conditions and squatting together in cramped conditions. Is there any interest in such issues at the moment?
Even in good times, certain population groups tend to be overlooked. In times of crisis, they become even more invisible. It is now first and foremost about human lives and only then about questions of justice, so it is said. In reality, however, this means that lives are treated unequally. In view of overwork and inadequate equipment, the value of different lives is probably currently measured differently in utilitarian terms, and not only in Italy. Younger people, who probably still have many years of life ahead of them, are given the breathing apparatus that is taken away from the elderly. This has also been shown in the mass media and has thus become visible - as has the unbearable burden that such decisions place on hospital staff. What has remained largely invisible, however, is which population groups have been disproportionately affected by the pandemic, whether directly or indirectly, in terms of health, economy and society, and which social groups have simply been left out of the invoked 'we' because they are not represented in research, companies and politics and are therefore ignored or forgotten in data collections, media reports, government measures and expressions of solidarity.
Small and micro-entrepreneurs of all kinds are threatened in their economic and social existence, unlike, for example, people who are employed in the public sector and continue to receive their salaries. But some of them still have a voice in the media and in politics, where they are represented by prominent figures from the creative and artistic scene, for example. This is far less the case for others. The "aid" and "rescue packages" adopted by the federal government for companies, freelancers, tenants and families whose incomes have plummeted support many of those who now desperately need this support. However, others are also at risk of being left out of the picture and without a state safety net. The best way to contain the pandemic is for everyone to stay at home and wash their hands regularly. But what if there is no permanent home, as is the case for homeless people - there are an estimated 10,000 of them living in Berlin. A network of support services for this population group, which in normal times is largely maintained by volunteers, is currently collapsing completely. New clothes, hot meals, basic hygiene, support in the event of illness and addiction problems - all of these are missing. The authorities are well aware of the situation and there are certainly some reports in the mass media about the homeless' current struggle for survival, but an adequate "rescue package" for them is not (yet) in sight. At the same time, the virus is not only becoming a particularly rapid, but also a particularly drastic "question of existence" (Die Welt), especially at the so-called lower end of society.
Even distinctions made on the basis of supposedly obvious standards between 'systemically relevant' and other professions (and sciences too, incidentally, with virologists currently having the power of interpretation) imply judgements that tend to spill over onto the people who carry out these academic appointments. Such judgemental "human differentiations" (Stefan Hirschauer) are not without explosive consequences. They easily tend to promote an emotionally charged social imaginary in which the distinction between relevant and irrelevant becomes a matter of course, which, despite all the invocations of a common destiny 'as human beings', poses a risk to social cohesion. Homeless people or the thousands of refugees at the EU's external borders do not seem to be included in the global 'we' of those threatened by the virus to the same extent and with the same emphasis as other population groups. They appear more on the fringes of reporting, politics and WhatsApp groups. It may well be that "You'll never walk alone" sounds rather tasteless, perhaps even cynical, to their ears at the moment.
Thomas Alkemeyer, Dr phil. habil., is Professor of Sociology and Sports Sociology at the Institute of Sport Science at the University of Oldenburg.
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