COVID-19 doesn’t spread through surfaces. Why hold Fort Worth library books hostage?
When I called the downtown library last week to schedule a pick-up of books I’d put on hold, the librarian who answered sounded almost apologetic.
“I need to inform you about our policy change,” she told me. “We are now required to quarantine library materials for one week upon return. Your account will clear when the quarantine is complete.”
Huh?
When I politely inquired about the reason for the revision (a three-day book quarantine was the policy not long ago), I could sense the exasperation in her voice. It was just the latest guidance from the city, she explained.
I have been reading for weeks — but have suspected far longer — that surfaces are not a major or even significant source of spread of the coronavirus.
Even the CDC says there aren’t.
Back in May, it said that while it’s “possible that a person can get COVID-19 by touching a surface or object that has the virus on it and then touching their own mouth, nose, or possibly their eyes” — which we all know not to do by now — “this isn’t thought to be the main way the virus spreads.”
And I have yet to find a credible study that proves or even suggests otherwise.
So why are the local libraries now — seven months into the pandemic — abruptly increasing the amount of time borrowed materials are in detox?
And why, in general, are government entities obsessed with sanitizing surfaces when we know by this point that they are not responsible for the vast majority of transmissions?
When I contacted the city, I got a prompt and polite reply from a customer service representative directing me to a webpage about COVID-19 protocols on the American Library Association website.
But that page was as confusing as the policy itself. It linked to several contradictory resources.
One, a video on the National Park Service website, featured a speaker who claimed the virus could live on paper for up to five days and therefore, “cultural resources” should be isolated for nine days.
Another link on the page was to a study that found the virus can live on paper for up to 24 hours only.
There was nothing on the site, of course, about how paper products in general or library materials specifically, had been identified as an actual source of spread, thereby warranting such draconian precautions.
Apparently, we can’t let reason dictate policy anymore.
Holding library books hostage for an extra week may not sound like much, but it’s one of the many small inconveniences that people are expected to accept without argument, even when all the relevant science suggests they are probably entirely unnecessary.
We know, for example, that the virus spreads primarily through close contact that occurs indoors over a prolonged period of time. But outside, in the elements, it doesn’t seem to be a problem.
Yet masks are required everywhere at the zoo, which is mostly outside, and even when capacity is limited and social distancing occurs naturally, because some weekdays, you practically have the place to yourself.
Yet you can sit and dine at a restaurant for several hours unmasked, gums flapping, but unless you’re on a water slide at the splash pad (the one exception to the zoo’s mask rule), your face better be hidden.
We don’t understand a lot about the virus, but we do know some things. You’re most likely to get it from someone in your household, not by touching a library book or a casual contact at the zoo.
Yet we continue to focus attention and resources on the wrong things.
We should start to question more the rules and the people making them, especially when the protocols are arbitrary, capricious, totally inconsistent and often completely incompatible with the latest science.
Fort Worth, set our library books free.
