A novel virus crossed over and announced itself, quietly, as 2019 drew to a close. It had no name. It didn’t need one. It didn’t care. The virus has no ego. It knows no applause or regret – even though it has a global audience greater than any celebrated leader or online post. It has no territory and holds no passport. It has no trading budget even though it’s crippled real economies everywhere. 

It has no profit motive and has no interest in market share. It has no army. It has no voice and yet everyone speaks of little else. It has no political ideology. It has no religion. It has no language or culture. It has no gender. It has no prejudice. It has no clever opinion on social status, inequality, immigration, racism or sexism. 

It does not hate. It does not love. It experiences no existential angst and certainly is not Waiting for Godot. It does not bother with ownership, literature, legacy, history or past injustices. This virus is the epitome of indifference. 

Its timing is impeccable. We have everything in place. We are the perfect host. We have everything it needs to dominate our world, exposing our frailties and attitudes – as individuals, economies and as societies. 

It’s as if it knew that it would fare better with Trump than Obama; as if it knew it would be best seeded in a proud, populous, one-party state that isn’t given to transparency. As if it knew that critical resources meant for those most in need would be looted by mutating Zuma zombies, rabid in their lust for more. 

As if it knew that big business, globalisation and capital markets would be most entrenched. That instant gratification and plastic-wrapped convenience would be the zenith of customer satisfaction. That captains of capital, with intentions of growing the economy and proclaiming their financial return, would be quietly afraid of the inevitability of the impact return for their children. 

As if it knew that, in human history, air travel would be at its height, accelerating its reach. That when we were most proud of our modern digital code, its basic ancient code would send us back to the safety of our caves. 

That the world would be the most unequal it’s ever been. That congested urbanised spaces would be vector points. That nationalism and the building of walls would blind us to the realities of what it is to be truly human. That pervasive social media would give billions of people platforms to share their views. That monologue, masquerading as discourse, would be digitally chaperoned into like-minded, insular algo-cults. 

That well researched, credible journalism would be clouded by every device with a send button. That the dehumanisation of the other, them and those, would make us feel stronger as we hoard and pull toward us and mine.  

This virus, without intention, stokes our fear and folly. Some of us, young and old, will suffer an isolated gruesome death and most will experience a headache and a sniff – a perceived “immunity”. This variance emboldens the reckless and terrifies the mourners. Of all the consequences, this is the cruellest turn of the roulette. In that confusion markets stall, incomes fall, investment capital sleeps and borrowed emergency capital rises. In that confusion self-serving tenderpreneurs, politicians and prophets have all they need to spin the barrel one more time. 

But spare the judgement: this virus has unmasked us all. 

As we shout our truths privately, in boardrooms and heavenward, we do what we have so often done: protect our interests first. As businesses compete for survival, the large, cash-rich will outlast the small, with leaders saying that every good crisis presents an opportunity to consolidate, merge and acquire. 

Yes, this virus has timed its visit perfectly as it coolly unleashes its war machine replicator: this apex predator’s body of work. 

This virus needs no name. It simply doesn’t care. Like every pathogen, it does what it does efficiently: replicate, disperse and adapt. We respond by panicking, debating and seeking a cure or a vaccine, which we will administer to those who pay the required fee. Then, with fingers washed and crossed, we will hope that the virus doesn’t evolve and come back stronger. It’s as if this virus knows that, after decades and our best scientific efforts, we still don’t have a vaccine for HIV. It appears to know that our Flu vaccine is about 40% effective on average. It seems to know that its six known cousins that came before still have no certain vaccine response from us.

As a species caught in our self-image, we are simply not sufficiently prepared for an onslaught from an ego-less enemy. You see, we know best how to fight enemies most like us; enemies we recognise in ourselves. So, we name this enemy, as it floats quietly on the words we speak. 

We were warned many times by scientists, writers, activists, responsible business people, social impact entrepreneurs and philosophers. We were warned by that values-centred politician, that protester, that radical economist, our millennial children and our consciences. We forgot how we were moved by our patient grandmothers. We held on. We gambled the odds. We divided ourselves. We quietly felt the gall of disgust rise as we watched that freak on the other side of our moral fence. We held on to our expansionist, consumerist ideals and our prejudices – loving only those who are most like us, tolerating those we could do a deal with, and praying with only those our different gods said we should embrace. 

We ignored our planet’s signals. We were frustrated by the future-focused entrepreneur who challenged our established business model. Many went back to the proverbial shopping mall and the trading floor, drew more borders across a map, exploited more of our planet’s natural resources and went off to raise a glass with the people we felt most comfortable with, laughing loudly at the latest in-joke, even juicier at someone else’s expense.

Now we’re surprised that this silent guest is at our family table, breathing with us. 

And yet, we are capable of learning. Our history, our economy is lit with triumph, courage and hope. In order to survive, we adapt. Our strongest stand tall and defend the weak, nurture the sick and join hands across divides. At our best, we are deeply human. We are not indifferent. At our best, we say: “I see you. I know your name. Ubuntu ngumuntu ngabantu (a person is a person through other people).” 

At our best, we remember the communal fire and we consult, we listen – without personal, capital or political agenda. Around the campfire, over many thousands of years, whenever our community was most at risk and survived, homo sapiens did three things: looked to the innovators and pragmatists in their midst; listened intently to the wisdom of ages; and sought alignment with the laws of nature. 

That leadership nexus is a critical necessity today – in business, in politics and in civil society. It was and is our greatest strength. In fact, at those critical times we looked to necessity herself; and if she indeed is the mother of invention, then her time has come – again. DM

Pat Pillai has been an entrepreneur in the private and social sectors for over 30 years. He is one of the founders of LifeCo UnLtd  www.lcu-sa.com. He serves on the boards of AVPA www.avpa.africa; Impact Investing SA www.impactinvestingsouthafrica.co.za; and others.