Tuesday 3 March 2020

Covid-19 - Putting facts before apathy & hyperbole


The information ecosystem around Covid-19 (aka Coronavirus) is dense and riddled with both apathy and hyperbole, and attempts by civic authorities to cut through the social media noise and achieve that delicate balance which encourages alertness and preparation without inciting panic have been, at best, only partially successful.  Supermarket shelves are being rapidly emptied by folks preparing their bunker for a 6 month apocalypse (please don’t).  On the flipside, I hear so many people dismissing worries over the virus as a media beatup, it’s “the same as a cold”, or “driven by anti-Asian racism”.

All of this is so very frustrating, and I appreciate it’s hard to know what to believe with all of this flying around, so without telling anyone how worried or not worried they ought to be, I thought it might be helpful to share some of the basic facts as they stand.

There are several key metrics experts use to determine the risk profile of an epidemic. One is its reproduction number – its “R0” value – an estimate of, on average, how many other people will be infected by one carrier of the disease. Measles, for example, has an R0 of between 12 and 18, which is very high. The various forms of Influenza, on the other hand, have an average R0 of between 2 and 3.

There are a number of difficulties involved in reliably determining the R0 of Covid-19 at this point. Firstly, for most infected, the earliest symptoms won’t differ significantly from those associated with a common cold or flu, and some will recover without intervention before it gets any worse than that. Secondly, it’s possible that those without symptoms (yet) can carry the virus and pass it onto others. We can only estimate the R0 based on number of diagnoses, which is unreliable, and only made more difficult by the differences between health systems and reporting practices across different countries. 

Most models place the R0 of Covid-19 at somewhere between 1.4 and 3.8, and it seems to be settling, for now, at around 2.2, similar to flu. This could still change significantly, but there’s good reason to think it’s probably about right – namely, that sequencing of the virus has shown that it’s fairly closely related to the virus which caused the 2002-2003 SARS outbreak, which also has an R0 in that range.
Another key metric is the case mortality rate  – what percentage of people infected with the virus are killed by it. Again, hard to know for sure for the same reasons it’s hard to know the R0. So far though, the best guess is that around 2% of diagnosed cases have resulted in death. That might sound low, but it’s twenty times higher than influenza’s mortality rate of 0.1% – which kills somewhere between about 300,000 and 650,000 people per year, at a similar estimated R0.

If, in the worst case scenario, Covid-19 becomes established globally as a regular seasonal infection.. well, you do the math. Yeah, it ain’t good. While there are at least 20 vaccines in development internationally, this could take months, and the further the virus spreads the more mutations we will see which a single vaccine may not be able to deal with.

Panicking, however, is not going to help. We know that communities that beat pandemics are ones that pull together, share resources and cooperate. When people freak out, spread misinformation, or stampede to stockpile for the apocalypse, they only increase risks for themselves and others. Remember that the vast majority of people, especially healthy adults, who get Covid-19 and seek medical attention early will be absolutely fine. Every one of us can play a role in reducing risk. Practice good hygiene, wash your hands properly and regularly, use sanitiser if you have it, disinfect surfaces like keyboards/mice or food preparation areas regularly, ensure (where possible) that you’re set up to work from home if it becomes necessary or otherwise have a plan if you can’t work for a while (good employers will generally offer paid discretionary leave in such circumstances but if you’re a contractor or casual this can be trickier), minimise use of public transport, avoid densely-crowded spaces and events if you can, make sure you have a week or so’s worth of surplus supplies but DO NOT PANIC BUY (society is not going to come to a standstill and hoarding bunker-loads of stuff is only going to deprive others), and – as should be really freaking obvious – IF YOU ARE SICK, STAY HOME, keep your damn germs to yourself and contact your doctor as soon as possible.

Symptom-wise, Covid-19 will generally give you a gnarly fever and mess with your lungs – causing cough, shortness of breath and/or sore throat. If you have those particular symptoms, it is probably wise to call in advance rather than just showing up to your GPs office. That goes a hundredfold if you’ve been travelling recently (or been in close contact with someone who has).

Keep in mind that as of 3rd March, there has only been one confirmed case in Aotearoa. While the official Ministry of Health advice still ranks the risk of a widespread outbreak as low-moderate, evidence and the experience of other countries suggests that it is likely we’ll see community transmission at some point over the coming days or weeks.

Here's a really good piece from Dr Siouxsie Wiles on how to prepare your household:

You can also check the WHO website for updates and guidance on how to keep yourself and others safe as poss:

Night in the Woods - Review

I enjoyed Night in the Woods, a lot. I found myself deeply immersed in its world, its characters, thrilled with a sense of nostalgia and determined to unlock all of its mysteries as I navigated through the same lovingly crafted environments, again, and again, and again; speaking to the same beautifully flawed characters again, and again, and again to ensure I didn’t miss a line of its hyper-realistic and wacky dialogue. And yet, having finished the game at an underwhelming 29% completion, I confess I don’t feel particularly compelled to return to it.

The game plays out one day at a time. Almost every day goes like this: your character (Mae) awakes in her room. She might choose to practice bass, via a Guitar Hero style mini-game which, though enjoyable, never really gives her an opportunity to learn the songs before you mutilate them. She can also check her messages - which are usually some variation on “Hi Mae! I’m bored, come visit me in my shop”. Or, she can play Demontower on her computer, a remarkably well-constructed hack and slash roguelike game-within-a-game. She then goes downstairs, talks with her Mom, goes out, and wanders about the town speaking to the townsfolk, eventually meeting up with either of her two closest friends (or occasional another) to perform an activity. Hijinks, minigames, bonding and character development ensure. Returning home, she talks with her Dad, goes upstairs to her room and to sleep, exploring a strange dreamscape where she must find four musicians who are scattered about, her dream ending with her cowering at the appearance of a terrifying, gigantic creature. It’s fun, and the character interactions are great, but as alluded to above it’s more than a little repetitive and frustrating exploring the same areas over and over to see if anything’s changed.

The game goes on like this for some time, building up the relationships between characters before the real story begins to unfold - a tale of long-dead miners, ghosts, strange cthonic beings from beyond. It’s also a tale of Mae’s slowly deteriorating mental health; as someone who suffers from depression and anxiety, it’s all-too-relatable at times.

The writing is hands-down some of the best I’ve seen in a video game, at least as far as individual scenes and dialogue is concerned. Unfortunately the wider narrative arc is unfocused and unevenly paced; it spends its first two-thirds or so being a nostalgic and sweet coming-of-age tale about the trials and tribulations of life as a millenial under late capitalism, then rapidly becomes a conspiracy/mystery/supernatural drama which reaches its climax and conclusion rather quickly, leaving many of the previously setup character threads dangling - of course one would not expect a story which leans so heavily on existential themes and millenial malaise to give its characters a “happily ever after” conclusion, but after the game has spent so much time developing its characters, and then put them through such ferocious adversity, you might expect to see a little more change, growth as a result.

While Night in the Woods tends to get lumped in with narrative-driven games like Dear Esther, Gone Home, What Remains of Edith Finch?, and so on due to its emphasis on storytelling and exploration, it has somewhat more actual gameplay than these - some light platforming, low-stakes minigames and puzzle-solving. None of these are at all difficult, some of it is optional and the game pretty much tells you exactly what you need to do in each case. It’s a grab-bag of various gameplay elements all of which are enjoyable and well constructed - enough so that I found myself wanting more of it. Mae’s movement feels great and the animation is gorgeous as she jumps from rooftop to powerline to rooftop; I can’t help but feel that the developers could have capitalised on this more.


It’s always a treat to find games like this - games which put narrative and aesthetics first, which embrace the medium as an artform rather than as mere entertainment. For me personally, as an anxious, mental-health challenged millenial creative struggling under late capitalism with the constant dread of impending civilisational collapse bearing down, as someone who particularly enjoys supernatural/horror/mystery themes particularly against the backdrop of small town Americana - of course I absolutely adore this game, it’s a  beautiful tantalising gem which lured me in from its opening scene and wouldn’t let go until the credits. It’s tempting therefore to say nothing but nice things about it. But as a critic, it has to be said that the jumble of ideas the developers fed into this game aren’t as cohesive or well fleshed-out as they might be, with the result that the whole ends up being less than the sum of its otherwise excellent parts.  I recommend Night of the Woods, I only wish that its grasp had come nearer to its reach.