




































Ecology, Economy and Society–the INSEE Journal 3 (2): 1–3, July 2020 

 
EDITORIAL 
 

Living In, and Thinking About, the World in 
Pandemic Times 
 

Kuntala Lahiri-Dutt  
 
Queen Elizabeth II famously labelled 1992 as an annus horribilis—―terrible 
year‖—a year that saw a fire and a scandal that ravaged British society and 
the royal family. When 2020 kick-started the new decade, little did we know 
what lay in store. In Australia, where I live, the wildfires started earlier in 
the year, were more widespread, and were more devastating. As the country 
had been in an El Nino–induced draught phase, it had not rained for 
several months prior to the onset of summer. Dry undergrowth provided 
fuel and high wind speeds allowed the fires to spread quickly, jumping 
across clearings, rivers, and roads, claiming several properties and much 
indigenous, innocent wildlife. The fires were eventually quenched, but this 
time by a spate of hailstorm—hail the size of golf balls crushed everything 
left outdoors; buildings were damaged and some beyond repair. The 
ongoing and unending debates on climate change—whether global warming 
is causing the extended xeric conditions, uncontrollable fires, and 
unpredictable weather—had not quite settled down when the pandemic 
arrived. 

Interestingly, like the Black Death, COVID-19 for all practical purposes 
arrived in Australia by boat—a cruise boat offloading not rats but over a 
hundred passengers exhibiting symptoms of the illness. The pandemic does 
not spare anyone; like the plague, it is a great leveller. In his 1947 book, The 
Plague, Albert Camus wrote how epidemics do not discriminate: ―The 
plague was no respecter of persons and under its despotic rule everyone, 

                                                        
 Coordinating Editor (2019–20). Crawford School of Public Policy, ANU College of Asia 
and the Pacific, The Australian National University, Room 3.25, JG Crawford Building, 
Lennox Crossing, ACTON, ACT 2601, Australia; kuntala.lahiri-dutt@anu.edu.au. 

Copyright © Lahiri-Dutt 2020. Released under Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial 4.0 International licence (CC BY-NC 4.0) by the author.  

Published by Indian Society for Ecological Economics (INSEE), c/o Institute of Economic 
Growth, University Enclave, North Campus, Delhi 110007.  

ISSN: 2581-6152 (print); 2581-6101 (web). 

DOI: https://doi.org/10.37773/ees.v3i2.283   

https://doi.org/10.37773/ees.v3i2.283


Ecology, Economy and Society–the INSEE Journal [2] 

from the Governor down to the humblest delinquent, was under the 
sentence and, perhaps for the first time, impartial justice reigned…‖ (p. 
140). Unlike SARS, MERS, and Ebola, COVID-19 brought illness to 
everyone’s doorstep. As one country after another fell prey, global 
resentment against China grew, and no one could pinpoint one particular 
factor that might have worked to keep the pandemic at bay. For example, if 
the wealthy northern Italian province of Lombardy had allowed its public-
funded hospital system to retreat, which led to a higher incidence of 
COVID-19 deaths, Britain’s well-built National Health Service, one of the 
largest and best state-funded healthcare provision system in the world, also 
failed miserably in dealing with the deadly virus. Still, broadly, the 
experience of the USA is indicating the need for more and better state-
funded public healthcare in all countries. 

This is one area where India—with its multibillion-dollar healthcare and 
pharmaceutical industries located in metropolitan cities that attract patients 
from all around the world and produce the largest range of drugs—has 
logged an abysmal record. According to the World Health Organization, 
India has one of the lowest doctor–population ratios, with only 7.7 doctors 
per 10,000 people. The ratio is much lower than what is prevalent in other 
developing countries and, in fact, is closer to that of some deeply poor 
countries in Africa such as Sudan. Moreover, the pathetic and run-down 
condition of state-run hospitals puts India to shame, and more than a third 
of Indians aged between 15 and 49 years remain undernourished. It is no 
wonder then that the pandemic exposed the systemic weaknesses and 
inconsistencies that perpetrate the vulnerabilities of the poor, those who 
must move around in search of cash incomes, work in insecure and risky 
jobs for a basic wage, and those without a home.  

The ―big question‖ that arose, one that will be intensely debated in the 
future as we recover and rebuild, is about the future of the citizen–state 
relationship. In the last four decades, we have allowed the unprecedented 
retreat of the state from healthcare and education in India. The 
extraordinary situation brought about by the pandemic has now forced us 
to encounter the multifaceted ramifications of this withdrawal. We must 
create a more sustainable—and desirable—world for our future 
generations, and COVID-19 has offered us this rare opportunity. Gaps 
between the rich and the poor, genders, ethnicities, religions, and castes 
must cease to exist. Respect for nature and our relationship with it must be 
prioritised. Our cities must be made more liveable. The state must ensure 
the well-being, good health, and mental upliftment of all through education. 
If this sounds utopian, let me point out that not all of this is a product of 
my imagination. Our Sustainable Development Goals, agreements to reduce 



[3] Kuntala Lahiri-Dutt 

fossil fuel use, and many other global initiatives and processes have already 
agreed to the ideal of a more sustainable, equal, and just world where 
humans and nature no longer act as adversaries. We cannot allow 
―business‖ to run ―as usual‖, for already the securitization of the pandemic 
emergency is underway in some countries. Let us now stop and reflect: do 
we want a big, top-heavy government to take advantage of the extreme 
disruptions caused by the pandemic and/or sell the inheritance of future 
generations—India’s invaluable natural resources—to private interests so 
that they can accumulate surplus and generate windfall financial gains? 
Alternatively, could we take this opportunity to envision a novel way to be 
governed and use this historical moment to lead us to a collective 
transformative experience? 

The commentaries in this EES issue further shed light on the relevance of 
community in a post–COVID-19 world. Research papers on arsenic 
pollution, the challenges of marine conservation, and flood mitigation in an 
environment of growing climate threats highlight, from their disciplinary 
perspectives, the need to find community-based solutions to our present-
day pressing environmental challenges. The environment—and its 
conservation—holds different meanings for different communities, and our 
quest for a more inclusive and sustainable future should be based on a deep 
understanding of these differences. The special section on ―new 
epistemologies of water‖ also emphasizes these understandings in the 
context of water resources. 

The issue is being published only halfway into this horrendous year. We 
dread the future and worry about what other misfortunes remain hidden. 
Yet, we remain hopeful and ever so optimistic about humankind’s ability to 
re-imagine and reinvent ourselves. 

 


