Infection rates are rising in the West. In the East they are at rock bottom

What’s the best measure of economic success during lockdown? If it’s gross domestic product — otherwise known as national income — the UK has been a total failure. Over the last four quarters, UK GDP has fallen by a remarkable 9.6 per cent. Spain, the next worst in Europe, has seen GDP drop 8.7 per cent. Like the UK, however, Spain is an outlier. Losses elsewhere have been much smaller: declines of 4.8 per cent in Germany, 4.7 per cent in Italy and 3.9 per cent in France. Bad enough, but not as bad as us (possibly because they’re not having to deal with the direct consequences of Brexit).

On unemployment, the UK has fared rather better. Using an internationally comparable definition, the latest UK unemployment rate is 4.6 per cent, roughly the same as Germany’s and a much lower rate than in France, Italy and, notably, Spain. Yet UK unemployment was comparatively low long before the pandemic. To suggest that our better unemployment experience reflects our superior Covid “crisis management” is, frankly, a step too far.

By some yardsticks, our economic woes have been matched by our Covid woes. Some have suggested that, having been late into our lockdowns, the Government has too often let the virus spiral out of control, leading to more draconian economic sacrifices than experienced elsewhere. Cumulatively, for example, there have been more Covid-related deaths in the UK than in any other major European country. Yet this isn’t quite the whole picture. Adjusted for population size, the European Centre for Disease Prevention and Control’s numbers suggest that Belgium, Spain and Italy have fared worse than the UK in this most macabre of health comparisons. As for autumn’s Covid resurgence, infection rates have been higher in France, Italy and Spain than the UK. Belgium, meanwhile, has been totally off the scale. Of the European “majors”, only Germany has done relatively well.

Yet looked at through a wider lens, the slicing and dicing of European economic and Covid data seems rather irrelevant. The really big differences are not reflected in what’s happening on either side of the English Channel but, instead, by the varying experiences of the West and, for want of a better term, the Far East. The rise in infection rates in recent months is very much a Western phenomenon. Whether it’s China, Japan, South Korea or Singapore, infection rates in the Far East remain at rock bottom. Compared with these countries, all European nations, alongside the US and Canada, have performed poorly.

Doubtless there are lots of rival epidemiological explanations for the East’s relative success. My own observations are limited primarily to differences in behaviour. The Japanese have long been partial to facemasks. Usage rose dramatically in response to Japan’s awful experience with the 1918-1920 Spanish flu, when 450,000 citizens perished. Much of the rest of Asia ramped up its pandemic response as a consequence of the 2002-2004 SARS outbreak. It’s routine when arriving in Beijing, Hong Kong or Seoul to have your temperature checked before clearing immigration (if it’s too high, you might be faced with a distinctly unappealing quarantine experience). For the West, such medical intrusions are a rarity, not the norm.

Meanwhile, interpretations of “track and trace” vary enormously. In parts of Asia, those who have been in contact with a Covid sufferer are forced into quarantine, no questions asked. In parts of the West, those who have been in contact with a Covid sufferer may simply choose to carry on as before, with official guidelines totally disregarded.

The economic consequences of Asia’s Covid “tough love” have been illuminating. Japan, a country with a rapidly ageing population and a remarkably low long-term growth rate, saw its GDP drop 5.8 per cent in the past 12 months: not quite as good as Germany, France or Italy but a lot better than the UK. South Korea’s GDP fell a mere 1.3 per cent. Remarkably, China’s GDP rose 4.9 per cent. None of these numbers represents a return to pre-Covid growth rates: they suggest, however, that success in controlling the disease’s spread delivers both better health outcomes and a more robust economy.

Which, in turn, raises important questions. Is there a trade-off between individual freedoms and collective wellbeing? And, if so, are we confident that the West has got the trade-off right?