‘Aotearoa must be more ready than it is right now’ Alison Mau

On lessons to be learnt from Australia

Two years since the onset of a pandemic that will shape our world for at least a decade, it feels like we’ve reached the proverbial fork in the road.

Or, to borrow the perfect summer analogy, all the expensive surf lessons we’ve had since early 2020 to ride this wave, could shortly be for nought. There’s a huge dumper coming. How we choose to keep our heads above the Omicron waterline will be a defining factor of how we live in 2022.

Few will deny New Zealand did a great job in the first half of this pandemic – we handled it better than most, certainly until Delta hit. But it does seem some of us are loath to admit Omicron will massively change the landscape, again.

It’s a grim thought to start a new year, yes it is. Does it inevitably mean a swamped health system, widespread staff shortages and disrupted supply chains? Not if we’re learning from the mistakes of others, and learning quickly enough to get ahead of the swell. There’s nothing special about us. Omicron will spread in the community, and spread fast.

You’ll see a cautionary tale playing out right now in Australia where the government appeared to think its country was in some way special, and has had to admit it didn’t get its response right once Omicron ran clean over the top of Delta. As one Sydney-based podcast host described it, the Aussies squandered their lead.

As recently as last week, PM Scott Morrison assured his people the choice was a simple either/or: ‘‘You have two choices here: you can push through, or you can lock down. We’re for pushing through.’’

Writing for the ABC, political commentator Michelle Grattan slammed Morrison’s framing of Omicron as ‘‘a gear change’’, instead describing Australia’s journey thus far as ‘‘the bus tour from hell’’. The Morrison government had plenty of warning and should have had a more nuanced plan, she wrote.

Nuance and detail is also missing this side of the Tasman, and a lack of it could see the same farcical scenes playing out here. Until now, like Australia, we have laid our faith in the border closures and the vaccination plan – and I’m not saying for one minute that plan has failed or will, shouldn’t be pursued, or shouldn’t be emphasised in government messaging. I’m off to get my booster shot the minute I become eligible (next week, hooray) and I’d encourage everyone to do the same.

But there are more banal details we must get right, and fast. Rapid Antigen Tests (RATs) are one obvious example.

RATs are now the recommended testing method by both state and federal health authorities in Australia – a ‘‘preferable alternative’’ to clinicbased PCR Covid-19 tests, because testing centres and laboratories have become overwhelmed by the Omicron case surge.

I have personal experience of this. In early January, my son caught Covid-19 in Queensland. He spent a feverishly uncomfortable 13 hours in his car, in a queue for PCR testing. He’d joined the queue at 5.45am and told me anyone who arrived at or after 7am – the testing clinic’s official opening time – was being turned away.

I was worried. He wasn’t. Or rather, he simply saw Covid as inevitable. My daughter, in another Australian state, (who hasn’t had Covid but says ‘‘everyone’s going to get it sooner or later’’) has the same feeling of inevitability.

They were both weighing their testing options but couldn’t find a RAT for love nor money. In a spectacular real-life example of the market economy gone mad, RATs had become as scarce as boots on a ’roo, and three times as expensive.

The Australian Competition and Consumer Commission head has described price gouging as ‘‘beyond outrageous’’, having fielded reports of prices climbing as high as $AU500 (NZ$534) for two test kits online, and $AU70 (NZ$74) for a single test at some supermarkets and service stations.

Websites set up to track availability of RATs around Australia show that even at their cheapest, they’re selling at above $AU20 (NZ$21). Think about that for a moment – how many Kiwis could afford repeated testing at those prices? Leaving the price of RATs for the market to determine would inevitably further entrench the health inequities some communities in Aotearoa are already facing.

If the NZ government is to avoid a similar outcome, it will have to decide whether to offer RATs free for all, funded by central government, or put some kind of price cap on them.

This week PM Jacinda Ardern announced the government had ‘‘tens of millions’’ on order, that RATs would become more widely used, and would be ‘‘freely available’’. But freely available does not mean free. And as it stands, there’s precious little detail available to the public.

For example, the Ministry of Health’s website still emphasises PCR tests are more accurate and remain the preferred option. The bit about their efficacy is absolutely true (RATs give a much quicker result, but research shows they’re less accurate) but efficacy will become a moot point when we’re overrun with cases. A RAT can at least get suspected cases detected and into self-isolation faster.

There is no firm advice for companies looking to put an extra layer of safety in place for their workers through RATs – the ministry says it is ‘‘currently working on guidance’’ for business.

And there is a single line for the public: ‘‘Purchase of self-test rapid antigen tests will be available for the general public in the first quarter of 2022.’’

I get it’s exhausting to have to constantly throw out the rulebook and start again. However, if there’s one lesson the Australian experience has for us, it’s that all of society’s working parts are connected in a pandemic. Leaving infected people in work risks stretching our public health system to its limits. Taking too cautious an approach means staff shortages and supply chain disruptions that leave supermarket shelves empty.

Here at the Covid-19 crossroads nothing feels certain other than Omicron’s inevitable advance – and Aotearoa must be ready. More ready, at least, than it is right now.

If there’s one lesson the Australian experience has for us, it’s that all of society’s working parts are connected in a pandemic.