The pandemic has slowed down life for us. We are working from home, striving for normalcy, in a crisis. But by definition, a crisis is not normal. So we strive in vain. Many close friends have described these strange times as living in a dream. This new reality doesn’t feel real.

Now, we rely on the state to take care of us, as we are isolated from our communities. And the state has decided that only essential services and essential workers may operate. But what is “essential” has been a matter of controversy. The original Ontario list of essential businesses included mining exploration and real estate services, for example. This list seems to be narrowing to define essential as that what is necessary to live: Food (grocery services are essential), medicine (pharmacies are essential) and health (doctors and hospitals are essential).

Everything else is non-essential. Teachers, dentists, hairdressers, waiters, cooks, consultants, engineers — you are not essential because the state has defined “essential” as whatever permits us to live a bare-bones existence. Culture, art, religion, music and community — these are luxuries.

This skeletal definition of “essential” reminded me of The Little Prince, a famous novel by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. It is a story for both kids and adults, and the moral (as I understand it) is that too many people do not see what is truly important in life. As the famous quote goes, “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye.”

For my own emotional and intellectual health, it is essential for me to have religion, culture, art, music and community. Seeing art exhibits, attending live orchestras and going to Mass make my life more than a bare-bones existence. Now, I understand the logic of limiting social contact to only services and employees that are necessary for life. You can’t experience any luxury in life if you’re clinging to life on a respirator, for example. But as the pandemic drags into the weeks, months, and maybe years, we should not forget to regularly ask if the lockdown can be lifted.

An Italian philosopher, Giorgio Agamben, who is in Italy in the midst of its COVID-19 struggle, said it best. Commenting on the extreme measures taken by the Italian state, he asks “what is a society that has no value other than survival?”. Agamben is not anti-science, but pro-culture. He sees the risks of a longstanding isolation that can only balance dollars against lives. He warns:

The first thing that the wave of panic that has paralyzed the country obviously shows is that our society no longer believes in anything but bare life. It is obvious that Italians are disposed to sacrifice practically everything — the normal conditions of life, social relationships, work, even friendships, affections, and religious and political convictions — to the danger of getting sick. Bare life — and the danger of losing it — is not something that unites people, but blinds and separates them.

So as we settle into our new routines, let us not forget that we should regularly ask whether we have not sacrificed too much.