It's apparently becoming a worldwide problem. The fact that most people will have to be persuaded to have a Covid vaccine has forced the British government to think about effective and imaginative ways to change people's minds.
Spain has declared a national state of emergency and imposed a night-time curfew in an effort to help control a new spike in Covid-19 infections.
Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez said the curfew, which came into force on Sunday night, would be in place between the hours of 23:00 and 06:00
Under the measures, local authorities can also ban travel between regions.
Mr Sánchez said he would ask parliament to extend the new rules, initially in force for 15 days, to six months.
Spain was hit hard during the first wave of the pandemic earlier this year and at the time imposed a much more restrictive lockdown - one of the toughest in the world.
Like many other European regions, however, it has been hit by a second wave of infections.
In Italy, new restrictions were also announced on Sunday. The government said the steady rise in cases there was causing a huge strain on the country's health services.
Meanwhile France has reported a record number of new daily infections. A total of 52,010 infections were reported on Sunday, up from just over 45,000 on Saturday.
What are Spain's emergency measures?
Mr Sánchez said different regions would have up to an hour of flexibility if they wanted to modify the duration of the overnight curfew.
Restrictions on movement between districts would be determined by regional leaders and was likely to be dependent on work and medical needs, he added.
The new measures announced include a limit on public and private gatherings of different households to a maximum of six people.
"The situation we are going through is extreme," Mr Sánchez said in a televised address on Sunday, adding: "It is the most serious in the past half century."
More than half of Spain's 17 regions had been calling for tighter restrictions, and the latest measures will apply to all regions except the Canary Islands.
The same level of emergency was introduced during the first wave of the pandemic in April.
Spain has passed one million cases since it began and nearly 35,000 people have died.
For those holding on to hope of an imminent Covid-19 vaccine, the news this weekend that the first could be rolled out as early as “just after Christmas” will have likely lifted the spirits.
The UK’s deputy chief medical officer, Prof Jonathan Van-Tam, reportedly told MPs a vaccine developed by Oxford University and AstraZeneca could be ready for deployment in January, while Sir Jeremy Farrar, Sage scientific advisory group member and a director of the Wellcome Trust, has said at least one of a portfolio of UK vaccines could be ready by spring.
Much has been said about how the world will return to normal when a vaccine is widely available. But that really won’t be true. It is important that we are realistic about what vaccines can and can’t do.
Vaccines protect individuals against disease and hopefully also against infection, but no vaccine is 100% effective. To know what proportion of a community would be immune after a vaccination programme is a numbers game – we must multiply the proportion of a population vaccinated by how effective the vaccine is.
The UK currently has among the highest national coverage of flu vaccine in the world, vaccinating around 75% of the over-65s against flu every year; most countries either do worse or have no vaccination programmes for older people. It is reasonable to expect that this level of coverage could be achieved for a Covid-19 vaccine in that age group in the UK.
Therefore, if the Covid-19 vaccine is 75% effective – meaning that 75% of those vaccinated become immune – then we would actually only protect 56% of that target population (75% of 75%). This would not be enough to stop the virus circulating. Almost half of our highest risk group would remain susceptible, and we won’t know who they are. Relaxing social distancing rules when facing those risks seems a bit like Russian roulette.
Now let’s look at people younger than 65 in medical risk groups. In a good year, the UK vaccinates 50% of them against flu. That means just over a third of them are going to be protected (50% of 75%). Just to make matters worse, regulators such as the US Food and Drug Administration and the European Medicines Agency have said that they would accept a 50% lower level for efficacy for candidate Covid-19 vaccines. If that efficacy level is fulfilled, we have to multiply coverage by 50% efficacy, not 75%, and suddenly it all gets more concerning.
As well as protecting individuals, vaccines can protect communities, through the interruption of transmission. One of the best examples comes from the UK meningitis C vaccination campaign of the late 1990s. There was a 67% reduction in the number of cases in unvaccinated children and young people because they were being protected by their contacts who had been vaccinated and were no longer transmitting infection.
If we want to see population protection from a Covid-19 vaccination, we are going to need high levels of protection (coverage x efficacy) across all ages – vaccinating not just the at-risk groups, as is being planned.
To stop transmission, we must vaccinate anyone who can transmit infection. Anything less means that our goal is only individual protection and not the interruption of transmission. A recent announcement from the head of the UK vaccine taskforce, that the strategy will be targeted vaccination, makes it abundantly clear that the UK vaccine strategy at the moment is not to try to interrupt transmission, despite having hundreds of millions of Covid-19 vaccine doses on contract. With less than 10% of the population showing evidence of having been infected, targeted vaccination will not allow “life as previously usual” to return.
Even if countries do decide to switch from a personal-protection policy to a transmission-interruption strategy, obstacles remain. Much will depend on the successful vaccination (probably with two doses) of people who have not previously seen themselves to be at elevated risk. The challenge will be persuading the young, for example, to be vaccinated, not for their own benefit, but for the benefit of others.
Adherence to recommendations for any Covid-19 interventions – social distancing, lockdowns, home working, cancelled holidays or vaccinations – depend on trust. If politicians are telling us that the present impositions on our lives are only going to last until we have vaccines, then the reality is that a false hope is being promulgated.
Vaccines are probably the most powerful public health intervention available to us. But unless their benefits are communicated with realism, confidence in all recommendations will be put at risk.
While hope and optimism are much needed in these dark times, it is important to be transparent. We need to communicate the clear message that although targeted vaccination may offer some protection, it will not simply deliver “life as we used to know it”.
Survey datareveals the scale of this "pandemic fatigue", estimated to have reached over 60% in some cases.
Many people are feeling less motivated about following protective behaviours after living with disruption and uncertainty for months, says the WHO.
Although weary, people must revive efforts to fight the virus, it says.
Until a vaccine or effective treatments are available, public support and protective behaviours - washing hands, wearing face coverings and social distancing - remain critical for containing the virus.
Coronavirus is continuing its spread across the world, with more than 35 million confirmed cases in 188 countries and more than one million deaths.
Dr Hans Henri Kluge, WHO's regional director for Europe, says fatigue is to be expected at this stage of the crisis.
"Since the virus arrived in the European region eight months ago, citizens have made huge sacrifices to contain Covid-19.
"It has come at an extraordinary cost, which has exhausted all of us, regardless of where we live, or what we do. In such circumstances it is easy and natural to feel apathetic and demotivated, to experience fatigue.
"I believe it is possible to reinvigorate and revive efforts to tackle the evolving Covid-19 challenges we face."
He says there are strategies to get us back on track, with communities at their heart:
Understand people by measuring public opinion regularly and acknowledge their hardship
Involve communities in discussions and decisions as part of the solution
Allow people to live their lives, but reduce their risk by looking at innovative ways to meet continuing societal needs - for example, delivering meals to vulnerable people or organising virtual catch-ups
He highlighted virtual celebrations during Ramadan or floating cinemas as successful new approaches that could help people adapt to the new conditions imposed by the pandemic.
The UK does its own regular survey on coronavirus and social attitudes and behaviours, based on a poll of around 2,200 adults.
Shuttered shops existed to sell stuff for a rushed, commuting office life that millions of people may never lead again
Last weekend I was lolling on the sofa reading the papers in the afternoon sun when I was struck by an awful thought.
I realised I am so dull that, even though I have spent more than a month in Covid captivity, I miss remarkably little of the life I led before.
It turns out I can live easily without Friday nights in a restaurant or Saturdays in a bar. I always thought I loved going out to the cinema but apparently I am just as happy at home with Netflix. The hundreds of pounds I spend each year on the gym also look increasingly pointless. I can get by with a bike ride involving hills and the odd lope around the block.
It was while I was on one of those lopes, down the local high street, that a more profound realisation dawned. Shop after shuttered shop existed to sell stuff for a rushed, commuting office life that I – and millions like me – may never lead again.
Assuming I manage to keep my job, there seems a high chance I will be asked to spend more time slobbing about at home. So I won’t need so many visits to my favourite dry-cleaner to freshen a batch of blouses, or the nice shoe repair man to fix a rickety heel. I doubt I will spend as much on hair and general upkeep either, or the all too occasional frock.
I probably won’t be alone. The mass coronavirus experiment in home working is already prompting the bosses of big employers such as Barclays bank and the Mondelez food group to wonder aloud if their reams of big city offices might be a thing of the past.
Frugality
The question is, now that people like me have had a taste of frugality, how long will it last once a semblance of normality returns? Will there be a pent-up splurge of excess? Or will we look back and wonder what made so many of us spend what the British ecological economist, Professor Tim Jackson, has called money we don’t have, on things we don’t need, to create impressions that won’t last, on people we don’t care about?
On 1 April, the prime minister of Sint Maarten addressed her nation’s 41,500 people. Coronavirus cases were rising, and Silveria Jacobs knew the small island country, which welcomes 500,000 tourists a year, was at great risk: it had two ICU beds.
Jacobs did not want to impose a strict lockdown, but she did want physical distancing observed. So she spelled it out: “Simply. Stop. Moving,” she said. “If you don’t have the bread you like in your house, eat crackers. Eat cereal. Eat oats. Eat … sardines.”
n 1 April, the prime minister of Sint Maarten addressed her nation’s 41,500 people. Coronavirus cases were rising, and Silveria Jacobs knew the small island country, which welcomes 500,000 tourists a year, was at great risk: it had two ICU beds.
Jacobs did not want to impose a strict lockdown, but she did want physical distancing observed. So she spelled it out: “Simply. Stop. Moving,” she said. “If you don’t have the bread you like in your house, eat crackers. Eat cereal. Eat oats. Eat … sardines.”
From Germany to New Zealand and Denmark to Taiwan, women have managed the coronavirus crisis with aplomb. Plenty of countries with male leaders – Vietnam, the Czech Republic, Greece, Australia – have also done well. But few with female leaders have done badly.
Ardern, 39, New Zealand’s premier, has held Kiwis’ hands through the lockdown, delivering empathetic “stay home, save lives” video messages from her couch and communicating daily through non-combative press conferences or intimate Facebook Live videos, her favourite medium.
Her insistence on saving lives and her kindness-first approach – urging New Zealanders to look after their neighbours, take care of the vulnerable, and make sacrifices for the greater good – has won her many fans, while her emphasis on shared responsibility has united the country.
Choosing to “go hard and go early”, Ardern imposed a 14-day quarantine on anyone entering the country on 14 March and implemented a strict lockdown two weeks later, when fewer than 150 people had been infected and none had died. New Zealand has recorded just 18 deaths; public trust in Ardern’s government is greater than 80%.
In Germany, Angela Merkel has been hailed for direct but uncharacteristically personal public interventions, warning that up to 70% of people would contract the virus – the country’s “greatest challenge” since 1945 – and lamenting every death as that of “a father or grandfather, a mother or grandmother, a partner …”
Thanks to extensive testing from the outset, plenty of intensive care beds, and the chancellor’s periodic forthright reminders that Covid-19 was “serious – so take it seriously”, Germany has so far recorded fewer than 5,000 deaths, a far lower figure than most EU countries.
With a doctorate in quantum chemistry, Merkel’s clear, calm expositions – a clip of her explaining the scientific basis behind the government’s lockdown exit strategy was shared thousands of times online – have also helped propel public approval of the fourth-term chancellor’s handling of the crisis above 70%.
In nearby Denmark, meanwhile, the prime minister, Mette Frederiksen, acted equally firmly, closing the Scandinavian country’s borders as early as 13 March, and following up a few days later by shutting all kindergartens, schools and universities and banning gatherings of more than 10 people.
That decisiveness appears to have spared Denmark the worst of the pandemic, with fewer than 8,000 confirmed cases and 370 deaths. Frederiksen’s no-punches-pulled speeches and clear instructions to the nation have been widely praised.
She even managed to show a sense of fun, posting a clip on Facebook of herself doing the dishes while singing along to the 1980s Danish popsters Dodo and the Dodos during the nation’s weekly TV lockdown singalong. The Scandinavian country’s youngest-ever prime minister, whose approval ratings have doubled to more than 80%, has now begun easing its lockdown.
Taiwan’s president Tsai Ing-wen responded equally fast, activating the country’s central epidemic command centre in early January and introducing travel restrictions and quarantine measures. Mass public hygiene measures were rolled out, including disinfecting public areas and buildings.
In all, Taiwan adopted 124 control and contain measures in weeks, making a full lockdown unnecessary. It has reported just six deaths, and is now dispatching millions of face masks to the worst-struck parts of the US and Europe. Tsai’s warm, authoritative style has won her plaudits, even from political opponents.
Norway, with 7,200 cases and 182 deaths, this week began relaxing its restrictions by reopening kindergartens. The prime minister, Erna Solberg, told CNN she had made a point of “letting scientists make the big medical decisions”, adding that she thought her country’s early lockdown and thorough testing programme had been key.
Following an example set earlier by Frederiksen, Solberg also took the unusual step of directly addressing the country’s children, telling them in two press conferences – from which adult journalists were banned – that it was “permitted to be a little bit scared” and that she, too, missed being able to hug her friends.
Meanwhile, Iceland, under the prime minister, Katrín Jakobsdóttir’s, leadership, has offered free testing to all citizens, not only those with symptoms, and has recorded 1,800 cases and 10 deaths. Some 12% of the population has taken up the offer, and an exhaustive tracing system has meant the country has not had to close schools.
The world’s youngest head of government, Finland’s prime minister, Sanna Marin, also moved decisively to impose a strict lockdown, including a ban on all non-essential travel in and out of the Helsinki region. This has helped her country contain the spread of the virus to just 4,000 cases and 140 deaths, a per-million toll 10 times lower than that of neighbouring Sweden.
Not all the women who have excelled in the corona crisis are national leaders. Jeong Eun-kyeong, the unflappable head of South Korea’s centre for disease control, has become a national icon after overseeing a “test, trace, contain” strategy that has made the country the world’s coronavirus role-model, with daily infections in single digits and a death toll of less than 250.
Jeong, a former rural doctor dubbed “the world’s best virus hunter”, has delivered no-nonsense daily press conferences, including demonstrating the ideal way to cough. While these have won praise, her work ethic – she has left an emergency operations bunker only for quick visits to a food truck – has prompted concern for her health.
Whatever conclusions we may draw from these leaders’ performances during the pandemic, experts caution that while women are “disproportionately represented to a rather startling degree” among countries managing the crisis well, dividing men and women heads of state and government into homogenous categories is not necessarily useful.
Complicating factors may be at play. Kathleen Gerson, a professor of sociology at New York University, notes, for example, that women leaders are more likely to be elected in “a political culture in which there’s a relative support and trust in the government – and that doesn’t make stark distinctions between women and men. So you’ve already got a head start”.
In addition, it may be harder for men to escape “the way they are expected to behave” as leaders, Gerson told The Hill website. And since the very best leaders are both strong and decisive and capable of displaying feeling, women could, perhaps, “lead the way in showing that these are not competing and conflicting attributes, but complementary – and necessary for good leadership”, she said.
How do you feel about the lockdown? How are you coping with it? Do you feel anxious? Afraid?
In Spain we have been locked downd for 6 weeks now and I think life has changed for nearly everybody, don't you think so?
Coronavirus lockdown: Living with my parents under new house rules
What's life like under lockdown for a university student who has moved back in with her family?
Hi, my name is Madeleine Hordinski, I'm 22, and I'm living at home with my parents and my 17-year-old sister in Cincinnati, Ohio.
20 March: I went on a social-distancing walk with my boyfriend, Krishna Nelson, in my neighbourhood, Walnut Hills. We did not get any closer than six feet for the mile-long walk.
The distance between me and my friends and me and my boyfriend right now has definitely been really tough. My boyfriend and I have actually been in a long-distance relationship for almost four years now, we go to school three hours apart.
And now that I'm home in Cincinnati where he goes to school, we're kind of in this weird close-distance relationship where we see each other more often, but it's outside and it's from a distance. And so I think it's been really difficult not knowing when we're actually going to be able to hang out together again.
29 March: We have new rules in our house because of quarantine. As soon as I get home from work I wash my clothes and I take a shower and hand sanitise profusely, always.
I've been freelancing for PBS, and I'm covering a story that looks at how lower-income families are being affected by the coronavirus. I've been going to a homeless shelter and have been interacting with families - I have been doing everything I can to be as safe as possible.
I'm also still at school at Ohio University attending online classes.
30 March: My sister and I drove to Mt Adams today since it was in the 60s (around 15C) - it's a neighbourhood in Cincinnati with one of the best views of downtown, so we sat with the windows down to enjoy the view.
With regards to coronavirus in Cincinnati, a lot has happened recently, too. Just today, a bunch of employees tested positive for coronavirus at the Cincinnati Children's Hospital, which is I guess not shocking, but still really scary.
So it's just getting closer and closer to home. We have more cases here everyday, obviously, and more people dying as well. So I've been pretty much staying at home, spending a lot of time with my sister.
8 April: Sabina and her friend Avery, who is also a senior, return to their high school, Walnut Hills, to do a social distancing workout around the track.
My sister is having a hard time missing out on the milestones of her final year of high school, and trying to stay motivated with all classes moved online. "Sometimes it's hard to not feel so isolated," she says.
I'm feeling a lot more comfortable this week being quarantined. Not as overwhelmed and exhausted as I've felt in the past. But it is obviously really scary to see how many people are getting it around the US, because it is a lot different state by state and city by city.
11 April: We ate pizza and salad for dinner before having a movie night. My sister and my dad set up the screen for the projector before our social distancing movie night with our neighbours.
We watched Monsters, Inc. since we have four young neighbours.
13 April: My dad is a professional musician, he writes and plays guitar for people and he also teaches at the University of Cincinnati sometimes. Right now obviously all that is online. He also has a recording studio across from our house where he works, and he is still writing music.
14 April: My mom is an outreach coordinator at a local high school in Cincinnati and her job is to coordinate volunteer opportunities with her students.
She's been working on sewing masks using old curtains, clothes and rags. She plans to send the masks to family and friends.
A teacher at my mom's school died suddenly last week. The teacher's death was unrelated to the coronavirus and came as a huge shock to my mom's school community.
Since the teacher's family couldn't hold a funeral because of the pandemic, over 100 people showed up in cars to drive by her house to show their love and support.
My mom made a special poster for the family and put it in her car window. Her sign said 'Praying for you, our hearts are with you'. It was just really cool to see how the community came together.
My perception of family has definitely changed since all this started too because I think I've become more attentive to how much I value my relationship with my sister. We've been doing so much together like running, cooking, dancing, so many things.
You know we still annoy each other but yeah it's been nice spending a lot more time with her.
I think my family dynamics have changed too, everyone's has. I think probably subconsciously we've been really good at giving each other space during the day, to just have our own time to work or to spend time alone.
And then at the end of the day we all get together and we eat dinner, sometimes we play a game, hang out with our neighbours from afar or just watch a movie.
It's been incredible to see how kind people have been to each other, and how inventive people have been, too. I've loved seeing how musicians have walked down the street playing songs for everyone, or people have projected movies onto the side of apartment buildings so an entire apartment can watch a movie together from afar.
My little neighbour (who lives on the left side of the building) named Matilda turned five years old and had an ocean-themed birthday with her family. So my boyfriend, who owns a balloon company, brought over ocean-coloured balloons for her.
I think people are really coming together in a way they haven't in a while, and that's been really cool to see.
Produced by Hannah Long-Higgins and Robin Levinson-King
Residents are looking for an explanation from the government about its handling of coronavirus
In early January, Hu Aizhen, 65, heard that a new coronavirus had emerged in her home city, Wuhan. She was not worried – officials said it was not contagious – so she went about her days as usual and prepared for the lunar new year at the end of the month.
Just before the city was put under lockdown, Hu developed pneumonia symptoms. After days of waiting and searching for a hospital, she was tested for the virus. Her result was negative, but tests at the time were known to be inaccurate and she showed obvious signs of the virus. Nevertheless, she was refused treatment by six hospitals.
Hu, who had always been healthy, stayed at home for 10 days, unable to drink or eat, while her health deteriorated. When she took a further turn for the worse, her son tried to get her to a hospital in another district but police stopped them. Under lockdown orders they could not cross into another district. Her son, desperate, shouted at the traffic officers: “Are you not people?”
When Hu was finally admitted to a hospital on 8 February, she was struggling to breathe. The doctor ordered another test, but it was too late. She regained consciousness briefly, asking her son to pour her some water. Then she died.
Hu’s son is now suing the Wuhan municipal government for allegedly concealing the seriousness of the virus, among other complaints, according to court documents prepared by Funeng, a public welfare NGO based in Changsha. Hu’s son is among a small but significant group of residents seeking answers, compensation or simply an apology from officials who took weeks to notify the public of the threat from a virus that went on to claim the lives of at least 4,000 people in China, according to government figures, most of them in Wuhan.
Other cases include a civil servant suing the Hubei provincial government, a mother petitioning for officials to be punished after watching her 24-year-old daughter die of the virus, and a son who rushed his quickly fading mother to a hospital in the suburbs of Wuhan where he was able to get her admitted to intensive care. When he went to pick up supplies for her, he received a phone call from the hospital. His mother had died.
“None of this would have happened if they had told us. So many people would not have had to die,” said a relative involved in one of the lawsuits. Another said: “I want an answer. I want those responsible to be punished under the law.”
As the outbreak spread in China, with thousands of confirmed cases a day at its peak, public anger reached levels not seen in decades, posing a serious threat to the ruling Chinese communist party. When the whistleblower doctor Li Wenliang died from the virus in February, censors could not keep up with the flood of outrage online. It was a moment some compared to the outpouring over the death of Hu Yaobang that precipitated the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests.
A little more than two months on, the resentment is much less visible. Accounts like Hu Aizhen’s have been replaced by positive stories of the country coming together to defeat the virus, sending needed supplies to the rest of the world and fighting malicious attacks from the US and other countries blaming Beijing for the outbreak.
“People are easily led by propaganda,” said Shi, a human rights activist based in Hubei province, of which Wuhan is the capital. “As the epidemic situation has improved and the propaganda machine works, there has been a reversal. Now people are saying the strong leadership of the party is a good thing.”
As Wuhan and the rest of the country slowly return to normal, authorities are carefully monitoring those who might harbour resentment. Zhang Hai, 50, whose father died from the virus in February, was part of a WeChat group of more than 100 people who lost relatives to the virus.
In late March they were told they could retrieve their loved ones’ remains from funeral homes. No more than five could go together at one time, and they had to be accompanied by a local government representative. Zhang refused to go. Later, the group’s host was called in by the police and the WeChat group was deleted.
“Now everyone is trying to be very careful,” said Zhang, who is calling for the government to issue an apology. “I know a lot of families who are incredibly angry.”
Tan Jun, a civil servant in Yichang in Hubei province, filed a complaint this month accusing the Hubei provincial government of concealing the outbreak, according to copies of the lawsuit posted online. Tan confirmed the lawsuit but declined to be interviewed. Other residents in Wuhan who spoke to the Guardian said they had been intimidated by local police and forced to promise not to speak out.
“People must take responsibility. As a resident of Hubei, I believe it is necessary to stand up and call on the Hubei government to take responsibility,” Tan said, according to an article posted on several WeChat accounts that has now been deleted.
While authorities in Beijing have punished local officials by replacing them – what observers say is an age-old tactic for deflecting blame from the central government – residents say this is not enough.
“That is not accountability. That is switching hats,” said Wu, 49, who says she contracted the virus in January but was not officially diagnosed until March. In hospital she watched people around her die, including a woman in the next bed. Recently she learned that a classmate of hers who got sick around the same time had passed away.
“When I was laying in bed thinking I might soon die, I thought: how did this happen?” said Wu, who is suing her hospital for not confirming her as a coronavirus patient when she was released. “Regular people have limited access to real information. We rely on the government. We believe what the government says.”
Dissent has spread in other ways. Dozens of shop owners at a shopping mall in Wuhan demonstrated this month, demanding rent reductions after months of not being able to open their stores. In Yingcheng, a city west of Wuhan, residents put under lockdown protested against the high prices for food imposed by community management. One of the protesters, Zeng Chunzhi, has reportedly been detained.
“People have been awakened. That’s for sure,” said Xie Yanyi, a rights lawyer based in Beijing. Xie has filed a request for information from the government, including the origins of the virus and reasons for the delay in informing the public of the outbreak. “It may not be many people, but history shows that it is the few who change society and who change history,” Xie said.
In Wuhan, most residents are relieved that the worst of the epidemic appears to be over as they watch other countries struggle to contain it. Employees wait in lines outside of office buildings to have their throats swabbed, to make sure they do not have the virus before going back to work.
On the riverbank in Hankou district, a couple kiss in front of what has become a nightly light show of skyscrapers lit up with congratulatory messages. Many residents say they appreciate what their country has done for them.
The chance that cases such as Hu’s will be accepted and go to court are not high, according to Yan Zhanqing, a co-founder of Funeng. More likely, those involved will be intimidated or harassed. But in some cases, especially determined plaintiffs can get compensation, which is one form of apology.
“These cases apply pressure on the government and help more people understand their rights and the government’s responsibility,” Yan said. “This is also a way of documenting history, letting more people know the truth, and not just the government’s version of what happened in Wuhan.”