Clean is the new cool. Public spaces, transportation and even our own homes have been through the ultimate spring clean since COVID-19.
It didn’t take long to break us. Within days of quarantine, cabin fever set in. We quickly realized that maintaining our sanity required contact with humanity. While few were clamoring to commute back to the office every day, everybody looked forward to the return to socially cohesive spaces – the parks, cafes, libraries and other spaces where people congregated outside of home and work to connect with others. Our desire for these spaces was compounded by the fact that, for many, home and work had melded into one.
The problem was, the virus changed how we saw the world. And with this new perspective, we suddenly realized that everything around us was filthy: the public spaces, the planes, the trains, the automobiles – our neighbors’ houses. Our own. All of them were covered in invisible grime and deadly germs, full of creepy-crawlies, the perfect habitats for the next bug or virus that would lay the world low. After months of the coronavirus pandemic, many were dubious about returning to convene with crowds. But pain points led to breakthroughs. As we resumed our social activities, the response by communities and societies around the world was a prolonged emphasis on cleaning up. The fear of another pandemic gave rise to a Clean Regime that prioritized a visual aesthetic and ritualized cleanliness behaviors. Soon, this regime shaped global commerce and policy and became embedded in the cultural zeitgeist. People began seeking products and services that both ensured their personal cleanliness and put it on display. Businesses enacted policies that mandated clean properties. And governments renewed messaging and strategies that promoted societal cleanliness as a matter of public health.
The winds of change were already blowing on this cultural shift, pre-COVID-19. Video of supermodel Naomi Campbell disinfecting every surface of her seating area on flights had racked up millions of views. But post-COVID-19, personal hygiene routines began rivaling “unboxing videos” in social media popularity. While established cleaning product brands gained stature, nimble startups were the ones to make cleaning sexy; companies like Blueland and Truman’s became household names as they added style to the new aesthetic. Even global arbiter of style and luxury LVMH pivoted to creating designer sanitizers in an effort to combat the novel coronavirus. Clean became cool. And where there was cool, there was cash. The war against pathogens was fought (and will continue to be fought) much differently from wars of the past. Germs can’t be shot down or bombed. Instead, we combatted our enemy with sanitizing and handwashing. Propaganda posters pictured not “Rosie the Riveter” but “Cliff the Cleaner.” We thanked those on the frontline of this ongoing battle – hospital staff, cleaning crews, sanitation workers – the same way we thanked the military for their wartime service. Part of the social pact of the Clean Regime was keeping germs out of public places in the first place. Businesses adopted corporate hygiene policies to keep sick employees at home or in the care of medical professionals without worries of missed pay or benefits. The increased costs of regularly deep-cleaning workplaces and providing paid sick leave were considered a worthwhile investment in maintaining reputations and avoiding the PR debacle of being a vector of viral infection. This commitment to workplace wellness pushed paid sick leave policies from corporate nicety to tablestakes necessity. Our past habits in public places made them breeding grounds for virus outbreaks. They were crowded and seldom cleaned. But COVID-19 gave us a wakeup call and the reprieve we needed to clean up our act. Diligent, humanity-driven hygiene practices are now an essential element of our daily routines and a crucial requirement of combatting the threat of future outbreaks. If cleanliness is next to godliness, then this Clean Regime was an answered prayer.
