Cheap, rapid tests for covid-19 infection will become ubiquitous. Unlike fancy
laboratory-based PCR technology, which can pick up even minuscule traces of the
virus’s genetic material, cheaper antigen tests look for parts of the virus and pick it up
when it is present in large amounts. Even some of the best antigen tests miss about a
quarter of infections (though these are thought to be at a stage when infected people are
least contagious, if at all). But some antigen tests can be done in 15 minutes with palm-
sized devices, or with kits similar to home pregnancy tests that cost $5. With more than
80 such rapid tests in the pipeline, accuracy will get better, sample collection will be less
horrid (using shallow nose swabs or saliva, for example) and prices will drop to as little
as $1 per test.
By the middle of 2021, rapid covid-19 tests will replace temperature screening at
airports (which is useless anyway). Employers, schools and entertainment venues will
use them routinely to screen for infections. Some people may even add a quick home
test to their morning or bedtime routine. Confirmation of positive results may still
require a more accurate PCR test; a negative result may not be a guarantee that it is safe
to hug granny. But lots of infections will be detected much sooner this way.
A side effect of cheap tests that can be done at home is that many, if not most, of those
infected will stay under the radar of official test-and-trace systems. But in much of
Europe and America trust in these systems is irreparably broken anyway. Even as
things are now, governments can only hope that infected people who are aware of their
status will, for the most part, do the right thing—alert their close contacts and keep
away from others as much as they can. And for people with no symptoms, staring at a
test strip that keeps flashing “positive” day after day may do more for compliance than a
message from a tracing app telling them to stay at home.
When it comes to quarantines, many countries will probably follow France and Sweden
in reducing their length from two weeks to one, in the hopes of boosting compliance.
People will be advised that they could still pose some (albeit lower) risk to others in the
second week—so should avoid seeing elderly relatives during that time, for example.
Officials checking on quarantined people will be more willing to let them out for some
low-risk activities, such as early-morning walks in the park when there are few people
about.
In a similar vein, many governments will give their citizens more autonomy about
socialising. Convoluted and prescriptive rules about who can see whom, and where and
how, will be out. Instead, there will be simple principles for people to follow in
whichever ways they choose. For example, people in more countries will be urged, as in
Japan, to avoid “the three cs”: crowding, close-contact settings and confined spaces.
When getting together with friends and family, they will be advised, as in Canada, to
think “fewer faces, smaller groups, shorter time together and bigger spaces”.
All this should make the second year of the pandemic somewhat more bearable than the
first. Raise a glass to that—in a small group, of course.