Do you remember the first couple of months of COVID pandemic restrictions? Here in New York, all “non-essential businesses” were closed, then some stores and takeout restaurants were allowed to reopen. We washed our hands a lot because we thought it would help. We stood six feet apart. And gradually, those of us who hadn’t learned the value of face masks began to figure it out, or at least to suppose that the majority and the authorities were worth listening to for a while.

Those of us who weren’t “essential workers” worked from home when we could, and every night we cheered and banged on pots for the people who were stocking the grocery shelves, driving the buses, tending to the sick, disposing of the dead. We had support from the government: extended unemployment, eviction moratoria, cash payments, interest-free loans..

We also supported each other. We met up for walks, and later for outdoor dining and to-go cocktails. We organized events on Zoom, Skype, Microsoft Teams and Spatial Chat. We watched each other’s Twitch streams. We maintained Open Streets. We marched in masked, socially distanced Black Lives Matter protests.

When our city government loosened the rules around outdoor dining, restaurateurs and builders got creative, building shelters that protected from rain and wind and provided heat, but still allowed good airflow.

Of course we weren’t all really in it together. From the beginning there have been people willing to minimize the risk of COVID, to spread misinformation about it, and to use its presence as a weapon against people they didn’t like. Restaurants that were secretly open, raids on karaoke clubs, openly defiant bar owners on Staten Island. Servers who wore masks around their chins while taking orders to go. Shacks closed so tight only a meager draft made it inside

Our homicidal president at the time saw that feelings about pandemic responses could be used to divide the country and unite his supporters. Our self-absorbed governor was only interested in saving lives to the extent it supported his political ambitions, and our bumbling mayor was afraid to let saving lives get in the way of any other priorities.

A group of evil people (I can’t think of a better word for them) had the gall to worry that taking care of people might erode the public’s faith in capitalism, so they set out to undermine every protection against COVID, and call, over and over again, for “reopening” and “return to normal,” no matter how little evidence there was that the danger was past. They named their evil plan after a lovely little town in Massachusetts that doesn’t deserve to be attached to it.

COVID has touched all sectors of society, but if you look at the statistics it’s clear that it has had a much greater impact on people who were poor, people who weren’t white, people who couldn’t afford bedrooms of their own to isolate in, people who didn’t have jobs that allowed them to work from home, or savings to keep them going until work picked up.

There was a particular point, I believe some time in April 2020, when the news media in the US reported that the disease was disproportionately affecting poor people, nonwhite people and immigrants. A number of people observed that there was a marked increase in the clamor for “reopening” immediately after these reports. And of course it came from people who were mostly wealthy, white US citizens with large houses and jobs that allowed remote work.

Despite all that, on the streets of New York, and with my friends, I felt a sense of caring. We were all in this together, and we were looking out for each other. Eventually we got a new president who decided to put all his eggs in the vaccination basket, and he and our self-absorbed governor started rolling back the protections that were keeping us safe. The most significant one, I’ve come to realize, was the ban on indoor dining.

Let’s be very clear about this: indoor dining was completely unsafe before vaccines, and is not particularly safe now. It continues to be a vector of COVID transmission among vaccinated people and between them and unvaccinated people. There was no epidemiological justification for lifting the ban on indoor dining. The only possible justification was economic, and that has been undermined by the cost of the subsequent outbreaks that could have been avoided.

What I’ve observed is that here in New York, allowing indoor dining has divided us. Allowing indoor performances, dancing, karaoke and other entertainment has deepened the divide. Even though I knew about the bars and restaurants that defied the indoor dining ban, I was surprised at the number of people who were willing to eat indoors as soon as it was legal.

Shortly after Andrew Cuomo allowed indoor dining in New York, I went to pick up some takeout and saw people eating in the restaurant. All I could think of was the scene in The Matrix where Agent Smith takes Cypher out for a steak dinner.

Agent Smith: Do we have a deal, Mr. Reagan?

Cypher: You know, I know this steak doesn’t exist. I know that when I put it in my mouth, the Matrix is telling my brain that it is juicy and delicious. After nine years, you know what I realize? Ignorance is bliss.

Agent Smith: Then we have a deal?

Cypher: I don’t want to remember nothing. Nothing. You understand? And I want to be rich. You know, someone important, like an actor.

Agent Smith: Whatever you want, Mr. Reagan.

Even more people began eating indoors after vaccines became widely available. Organizations began holding conferences and seminars in person again. Employers began ordering office workers to stop working remotely.

Of course, there are only so many people, and people only have so many active hours available. As people began participating in work and play indoors, there was a noticeable reduction in the amount of restaurants that offered any outdoor options. While many Open Streets and pedestrian plazas have continued to offer outdoor entertainment and activities, and many meetups, conferences and activities have continued online, we don’t see the same energy, creativity and enthusiasm for exploring outdoor and online activities.

For me, this has broken the feeling of unity that I felt in 2020. For me now the world is divided into three groups. The first is the group of people who avoid indoor group activities as much as I do or more. Maybe they share my unwillingness to be a part of the transmission chain or my fear of long COVID, or maybe they just prefer outdoor and online activities.

The second is the people who participate in some indoor group activities but are also interested in outdoor or online activities. They’re available, but not as much as they were before, because sometimes they’re doing stuff indoors. And then there’s a third group who I see on television or social media, who just don’t do much outdoors or on Zoom at all.

So we’re not in this together anymore. There’s a group that’s decided that COVID is over, that anyone who’s not vaccinated deserves what they get, and that anyone who gets seriously ill is just an acceptable sacrifice. And then there’s the rest of us, but we’re getting smaller every day.

Here’s the most ironic thing: the normalcy crowd complains about how difficult it was to take precautions to keep others safe from COVID: wearing masks, eating outdoors, avoiding long-distance travel and indoor meetings, performances and parties. I miss eating indoors in bad weather, long distance travel, and indoor conference, performances, parties, but it never felt horrible or unsustainable.

What feels horrible and unsustainable? Being one of a dwindling handful of people willing to take precautions while I watch my colleagues, friends and relatives flying around the world, singing, dancing and going to shows.

The main reason it’s unsustainable is that these precautions only work if they’re systematic and communal. It doesn’t do vulnerable people that much good if a small percentage of Americans are still wearing masks and avoiding indoor dining while the majority are happy to serve as a conduit for COVID to bounce around the world.