In a stunning display of bureaucratic minimalism, the World Health Organisation has declared that hantavirus, the latest pathogen to tickle the public's panic receptors, is not staging a world tour. No, it is apparently a homebody, a hermit crab of viruses, content to lurk in rodent urine and scat in the Americas and Asia without bothering to expand its horizons. Global monitoring holds,"
they chirp, as if clutching a clipboard could stop a pandemic. I can practically see the press release: 'We have looked at the data, and the data has looked back. It blinked.
We are fine.' Perhaps they're too busy naming new strains of the common cold or polishing the 'Pandemic Preparedness' trophy that's been gathering dust since SARS. The truth is, hantavirus is the universe's way of reminding us that zoonotic diseases are like bad party guests: they show up uninvited, leave a mess, and occasionally kill a few people before disappearing again.
But to suggest that global monitoring is the silver bullet is like saying a 'Beware of Dog' sign will stop a crocodile. Still, it's a grand day for international mononucleosis... sorry, monitoring.
The suits in Geneva have spoken, and they've declared that the world is not, in fact, ending. For now. I shall celebrate with a double gin and a silent prayer that my local vermin have better social distancing etiquette than their viral counterparts.
