If only they had told us to Stay Aware

The paradox of using fear to overcome risk — a reflection on the latest UK governmental framing for the COVID-19 response

Emily Stewart
6 min readMay 10, 2020

Words matter to navigation

I’ve been reflecting a lot on the use of language lately. Narrative and framing work has been a central aspect of my systemic practice and study of human relationship for a while, but nowadays, in the literality of the physically isolated space, they seem to matter even more. Of course, it’s often the unsaid, or implicit, that carries most significance, but sometimes, there are words that emerge as patterns.

I’ve been speaking to quite a few people these last few weeks, in the name of that already overused word, ‘sense-making’. They’ve been a diverse, and well-informed bunch — everyone from local volunteers and community organisations, to those in global institutions and corporate industry. And of course my postie. Not once has the word ‘alert’ either emerged, or felt useful in our conversations. I’ve heard a lot of alternative viewpoints — everyone’s trying to find the best way through this — but none of them has spoken to this tone.

No, in this past fortnight, the qualities that have been named time and again in my conversations with others, have been acceptance, trust, courage, integrity, practice, tenderness, curiosity, surrender… In so many different platforms, forms, styles, ecologies, and from a diversity of contexts and relationships. Like little poetry-infused threads, and just as with questions, I receive and carry these as gifts between my daily experiences and investigations — from the absolutely mundane, to the profound. Little invitations, connectors, and challenges. They speak to the most human, fleshy parts of me, and the most unseen.

I enjoy it when a single word surfaces repeatedly, as if we really are having a silent collective dialogue. In the space between my conversations — both the ones that I’ve hosted, and the ones I’ve been hosted in — these select few have offered themselves to give my lockdown weeks themes. This has helped me discover the map of my days much better than any non-relational process could. They’ve become directives in themselves.

Discerning what we’re told

Like many others, I’m concerned by the new 3-part UK governmental COVID-19 slogan: “Stay Alert, Control the Virus, Save lives”. I imagine most of the imminent criticism is likely to be because of its ambiguity, inequality, and impracticality in practice. But here are three things I’m particularly noticing about it:

  1. It shifts total responsibility yet provides zero agency to the individual (whilst being totally ambiguous, of course). This is a disempowering, and destabilising combination — hyper-individualism, along with opacity. What on earth does it mean to ‘stay alert’ — paraded like an incumbent individualised action, with absolutely no chance of being grounded in a coherent response. At a time when clarity in leadership, regard for the other, as well as a patient capacity for living in uncertainty are all required, this seems more than counter-productive.
  2. It does nothing for our nervous systems, and this destroys our capacity to respond. For anyone (everyone?) already hyper-attentive, there needs to be no further encouragement of fear or danger, or unnecessary uncertainty. What is needed is the promotion and visibility of grounded care and personal and collective responsibility (i.e. to close the perception gap once and for all), as well as, of course, the humanity of safe workplaces. Nervous systems out of whack (there are great exercises to do to support your vagus nerve function, do look up the science) are no support for the kinds of capacities we actually need right now that have practical extensions for all our lives: the courage to trust one another, compassion, resilience in complexity, generosity, the ability to stay calm, creativity, patience, kindness. The good old ingredients for peaceful, thriving community and long-term survival. Don’t be fooled — this isn’t fluff, this is the hard stuff, and it doesn’t come easy. There’s a reason there are several formal practices that are rooted in building these capacities, including awareness-based ones. So what were the Government thinking with this messaging? I probably should be less surprised given how much fear we are collectively driven to consume on a regular basis, but the social psychologist, the community member, and the empath in me, are not impressed. We need to prioritise sustained wellbeing, not continually prepare for that old foe, the sabre-toothed tiger, that never directly arrives — this is how collective trauma permeates, and it’s exhausting. In reality, it’s the side swipe that gets us, and that all too often lives in the decisions and actions of others. We need each other in order to stay open, to be well. And we need leaders with the courage to admit and commit to interdependence, and the humility of practice, in the language they use.
  3. Pretending we have a roadmap, when we don’t, is cruel in more than one way. I’ll keep this one short, as it probably deserves its own article, but given the systemic nature of the current polycrisis, an inference to ‘One Man’s Great Plan’ to get us out clearly denies the collective capacity and the validity of lived experience that’s so deeply required in order to surface the multiplicity of ways for us to get through. Not to mention the fact that such a clear plan doesn’t exist. And what’s worse, is the simultaneous devolvement of responsibility to the individual in making a success of it. This dissonance can’t go unnoticed. Furthermore, given the apparent inconsistency across the devolved nations, there are good grounds to question the usefulness of promises and pretences to plans which, by the nature of the moment, would be ill-fitting even if they did have form. This is an unwinnable case. And so, begs the question, is there a strategy at play here to create confusion and subtly set the ground for shifting blame?

If those with the power to say something different didn’t recognise the above, how disappointing is that? And if they did…well…quite honestly, my heart breaks when observing such a callous choice.

Alternative stories that mean business

‘Stay Alert’ is entirely in tune with the War Narrative which is driven by a desire to hurry back to business as usual through well-primed Command and Control techniques. But I believe we need to call it out for its lack of practicality in creating a better world, not just its failed ideology or morality in meeting the complex adaptive system that is civilised society.

So. What might be more helpful?

How about the instruction to Stay Aware. Awareness, as a practice of attunement, to the richness of learning that is happening right now, and a commitment to developing structured ways of sharing it to the benefit of all. Awareness to our internal worlds, as shadows and traumas are being given space to surface and unpin us. As dreams are whispered more loudly in our ears, as longings are reckoned with. As appreciation for clear skies and thin air are forged, and as local connections become necessary and embodied. And as we experience more viscerally than ever what it might give, and take, to live in a way that actually supports Life.

We need time for this learning to integrate. Let’s not hurry out of this rich place of knowing. Let’s stay aware to the grief within and without, and to the suffering around us. Let’s be acutely informed by it. Humbled in the realisation of the need to get out of our own way. We don’t need ambiguous warning, we need to practice awareness. Awareness of the choices we make, the surfaces we touch, the local and global needs, the respect for other bodies, the resistances, assumptions and incentives we carry, the new and old behaviours we’ve formed, and the self-reflexivity that can happen in a moment of collective exhale.

I imagine that the extent to which we could support both individual and collective wellbeing, now and in the future, would be far, far greater, by taking this approach than by promoting any floundering fear response. So, I would prefer to hear a directive that encouraged a type of loosening of grip. An opening of the heart. A sensitisation to what’s needed. A capacity to stay astutely present. To walk with care and an awareness of the whole. This isn’t ideology, this is, put simply, practice. If we are to emerge from this lockdown well, we will need to practice refining our own behavioural codes to support the wellbeing of others — I see this as an extension, and maturing of the care already so beautifully displayed by so many. What might be possible given a radical invitation to initiate beyond our collective adolescence?

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Emily Stewart

Emily is a freelance systems thinker, facilitator and writer. She’s focused on helping us navigate the liminal spaces and finding ways to value what’s vital.