There is a memorable scene about hospital visits in the popular American sitcom, “The Big Bang Theory.”
This was in one of the earlier seasons where one of the protagonists, Howard, sings a song he wrote for his significant other, Bernadette, who is under quarantine after coming in contact with some dangerous substances at work.
She is in there for precautions, and Howard sings and plays the piano, flanked by their usual gang of friends. Between them and Bernadette is a thick wall of glass. Despite it, the most eccentric member of the group nervously pumps disinfectant on his hands before joining in the singing.
And when Bernadette says she is shaking (due to emotion, not illness), he flees the scene, claiming she must be sick.
It was a hugely exaggerated scene that played up the compulsive fear of bacteria for comedic effect, but as I watched the MERS crisis unfold in Korea, I could not help thinking if there is such a thing as being too careful.
What horrible fate could one face by being overly cautious?
Apparently, it could be appearing uncool and pessimistic. I have often seen preparedness draw ridicule in Korea, mostly among peers. Perhaps this is a cultural issue.
A while ago, an acquaintance told me a story of when he was studying in the West. The apartment he resided in would periodically conduct fire drills. The first time, all the tenants came scurrying down.
But after discovering it was only a drill, he decided they weren’t worth his time. A few months passed by, and he happened to talk to another tenant who informed him that there were only two people in the building who didn’t take part in the drills. My friend and his Chinese next-door neighbor.
I don’t believe this was an anecdote about racism.
Rather, it explains there are cultural factors that often determine how a nation or society will cope with problems and disasters.
For some reason, ours is a culture that is reticent to admit that things can go wrong, and that we may actually need some sort of contingency strategy.
The lack of such was highlighted when Health Minister Moon Hyung-pyo told parliament yesterday that problematic hospital cultures and a lack of an adequate manual for coping with MERS were the biggest causes behind the quick spread of the disease.
It was a strange thing for a government official to say since I believe he and his colleagues were enlisted with the task of protecting the people of Korea the best way they can. Admitting that a country does not have the necessary means or guidelines to do so was at once disappointing and embarrassing.
In sharp contrast, Japan is a society that relies excessively on manuals. Without them, people panic and nothing can proceed or make progress.
Spontaneity may be smiled upon, but it is rarely accepted.
The trap here is that you can do just about anything you want as long as you stay within the guidelines. If not, your hands are tied even if you have the best alternative out there.
This rigidness has often left me exasperated. You would ask and ask for a reason and the best answer you might get is, “it is in the manual,” or, “that’s our policy.”
Other than slapping my forehead in frustration, there is nothing else I can do but accept it and move forward.
But annoying as they may in the daily routines of life, they become golden in case of emergencies because they can literally guide the way. Or at least provide people with a sense of security. That they are being cared for, and that there is a system at work. It is also about being prepared for the unknown and unexpected.
Who would have ever thought a virus could take so many lives at the clean and modern hospitals operated by a country that has a built a business on importing patients?
This sort of thing is precisely why we always need a contingency plan.
By Kim Ji-hyun
Kim Ji-hyun is The Korea Herald’s Tokyo correspondent. ― Ed.
