Just as omicron turned on its high-transmission  superpowers, my partner and I launched a two-week trip over the holidays. Fantastic 😳.

 

We met dear friends in Tucson for the holidays during our first week. Then we headed to the Big Bend region of Far West Texas, home to the amazing national and state parks, for some hiking and outdoor adventures. Plus tacos everywhere.

 

In Tucson, what kept us safe, healthy, and (somewhat) stress-free was planning how we would interact with the world—from masking up to dining to the kinds of activities we agreed would feel safe enough.

 

To a large extent, we had decent control of our little universes. We’d mitigated the risks we could, had contingency plans, and it worked. We had a great week together.

 

Then after our friends traveled home and we headed to Texas, we faced a universe we could not control. In fact, we felt like we had entered a parallel universe.

 

All but two of the employees at our hotel were mask-free. We were incredulous.

 

This hotel dominates the small town. Besides being the primary hotelier, the company also owns and operates most of the restaurants. Again, no masks. And no options to eat outside, unless you ordered your meal as takeout.

 

The hotel’s general manager explained that they follow state and local regulations (but not CDC recommendations). Rather than require masks—Texas has no such mandates although the state website encourages mask-wearing indoors—she told us that they rely on testing.

 

Each department’s supervisor keeps tabs on its employees, and if someone is not feeling well, the hotel tests that individual. If the person is positive, they do not come to work.

 

The GM, who is warm, generous, and lovely, appreciated our mask-wearing position. They are just doing things differently than many other places we’ve traveled.

 

Rather than take a preventative approach to keep staff, guests, and diners safe from Covid with mask-wearing (and here is compelling evidence that these simple pieces of cloth are really good at minimizing risk), the hotel is taking a reactive approach to dealing with it.

 

The problem is that hotels and restaurants are dynamic environments—people are coming and going—and humans are wildcards. Some wear masks correctly. Some have masks on their head but not in a way that will prevent a virus-laden aerosol from jumping ship inside a person’s airways. And others just aren’t wearing masks at all.

 

So rather than keep people safe, the hotel has elected to play Whack-a-Mole with employee absenteeism when they have to stay home sick. When we arrived, Covid case counts were low in that county but in ten days have increased by a factor of six.

 

The point I want to make is not about mask-wearing or politics or about “freedom” or “living in fear,” the arguments many make about not wanting to wear a mask. (And really, no one wants to wear a mask. We do it to protect ourselves and the people in our communities.)

 

Instead, it’s about challenging you to think about your decision-making about risk.

 

Preventative and contingent measures are just two factors you need to consider about risk. These help us function in the world and business. For example:

• What will you do to prevent low cash flow? What are your contingency plans if something unexpected occurs?
• What will you do to ensure your major clients, sponsors, and donors continue to support your work or invest in your services? What are your contingency plans if something changes?

 

When we demand that the world conforms to our approach or ignore reality and potential risks, we are subject to blind spots. And frustration.

 

What process do you have for considering risk? And how do you develop preventative and contingent approaches to ameliorate the threats you see?

 

Taking these extra steps can save a great deal of future hassle.

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