Every Decision Is A Risk. Every Risk Is A Decision. | FiveThirtyEight
It has been a summer of compromises, a season of bending the rules. If I wear a mask and I keep my distance, I can go for a walk with a friend. Hand sanitizer is a bulwark that allows my kids to play on an otherwise empty jungle gym. I believe the backyard has magical properties that will, probably, make it just safe enough to see people and talk to them. In the sun and fresh breeze, we give each other air hugs from six-ish feet away.
Meanwhile, my hair grows, untrimmed, past my clavicle. When my friend, in some ways far more stringent on her social distancing and mask wearing than I am, told me about going in for her first cut since March, I winced involuntarily. I assume it’s roughly the same face that she made when I confessed my masked trip to a clothing store to buy some summer dresses. Both of us know the safest thing — the thing most likely to prevent the spread of COVID-19 — would be to stay at home, alone. But we know we won’t do that now. Can’t do it. The idea of sticking with the safest thing has become almost as unthinkable as indulging in the danger of a movie in a theater or a drink at the bar. But in between those extremes, life has become a sticky bog in which we wade through evidence and convenience, hoping we’re stepping on solid ground.
Via: Every Decision Is A Risk. Every Risk Is A Decision. | FiveThirtyEight