In the first post in this series, I suggested a way to make bureaucracies more adaptable in times of emergency: change their incentives so that rule-breaking is allowed and even encouraged. The key concept was indemnification for rule-breakers if they had a reasonable expectation that breaking the rules would serve the public better than following the rules.

In the second post, I used the word “wargame” to describe how the CDC and other bureaucracies could have prepared for the Chinese Viral Terror Weapon of 2019. A pandemic was always inevitable, and the befuddlement and inefficacy of our institutions (notably CDC and FDA) in the face of this outbreak has been disheartening to witness.

One thing the CDC could have wargamed in advance is public policy recommendations. Every communicable disease has its own modes of transmission; there are only so many modes (aerosol, surface/fecal, bodily fluids). Based on how a disease is transmitted, on how infectious and deadly it is, suitable precautions could have been recommended. A system of “threat levels” and “local factors” could have been used to organize neat hierarchies of response and file away reams of guidance tailored to each scenario.

Suppose you were brainstorming sensible advice for dealing with an infectious agent just like Xi Jinping’s Inscrutable Lung Rot of 2019. It would be helpful to have fine-grained, specific advice tailored to a variety of contexts. Taking into account local factors such as population density, local demographics, and proximity to known clusters of cases, CDC could have rolled out detailed recommendations early on for:

• Individuals (hygeine, social distancing, masks/gloves, etc.)
• Businesses (retail, restaurants, venues for gatherings, offices, factories, transportation, etc.)
• State and Local Governments
• Other Government Agencies

One example of a cause for concern that might be addressed is the prevalence of public PIN pads and touchscreens at points-of-sale. Nobody seems to know what to do about those things.

CDC could have wargamed this outbreak and had reasonably sound public policy advice ready in advance. Probably one reason why they didn’t, is because they didn’t want to be liable if their recommendations proved to be ineffectual or harmful.

It’s a reasonable worry. In the early stages of an outbreak, uncertainty rules the day. There is bound to be some guesswork, and a totally unexpected factor could possibly come into play. Suppose CDC guessed wrong and offered recommendations based on that wrong guess. The recommendations might be ineffective at reducing infections, or they might be too stringent and cause unnecessary economic harm. Another reason bureaucrats might be chary is that any course of action in a pandemic will cause needless harm to someone; in hindsight, liability is just about guaranteed. Better, perhaps, not to take the risk. Make vague general pronouncements: “Wash your hands.” That should be safe.

But suppose CDC had offered detailed public policy guidance early on. Even if the recommendations proved to be unsound, they would still have salutary effects compared to the current situation. As it is, shopkeepers, mayors, governors and private citizens are making their own guesses, indulging in magical thinking, hygeine theater, social posturing, political self-dealing and politicization of every facet of what should be a unifying cause. Guidance from a neutral, authoritative source would do wonders to mitigate the problem.

Of course that is not what we have. Would we have it, if CDC wasn’t afraid to be on the hook for honest mistakes? Would we have it, if CDC was indemnified in the way I’ve suggested in this series?

In an emergency, the path to well-serving the public usually has a liability hurdle to block it.