A lesson from history?
From 1347-1351, Europe was ravaged by bubonic plague, also known as the Black Death. Of course, the plague had hit the Mediterranean world with regularity for centuries. (The great Justinianic plague of the late 6th century weakened the Eastern Roman Empire enough that decades later Islamic warriors were able to gobble up its possessions in the Levant and North Africa.) But this particular outbreak was the widest, most sustained, and most deadly. Up to 50% of the population was wiped out by it.
When the plague hit, Europe was still a feudal society based on serfdom. Serfs were tied to the land, and unable to do much of anything without the permission of the aristocrat who was their lord. [Insert "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" clip of the constitutionalist peasant here.] Which worked all fine and dandy—for the thin film of the nobility, natch—as long as there weren't mass extinction events. Unfortunately for the local marquis or count, the Black Death happened. If he managed to survive, he suddenly had a much smaller workforce. And this workforce knew its worth. The peasants who made it through the pandemic extracted more pay for their labor, demanded better working conditions, or just upped sticks and headed for the nearest market town, selling their labor on a suddenly lucrative market. The Black Death ended the Middle Ages in Europe, and kickstarted the modern age.
Now, the great and the good did react, and were able to claw back some of this unseemly state of affairs. In eastern Europe, serfdom persisted for centuries more. But in the West, the plague triggered a series of events which shaped those countries until they are what they are now. Western European world dominance was formed, in part, by the economic energies released by the plague and the shortage of workers.
It seems that we're seeing this play out now in our modern plague. Low-wage workers, buoyed a bit—but not much—by Federal stimulus money, have no particular desire to return to work to face infection, irate asshole customers, and low pay. (The myth that too-generous unemployment benefits are making people not want to work is dispelled here.) The fact that anywhere from 600,000 to one million Americans have died from COVID-19 has upended the labor market. For the past weeks, we've read tales of woe from low-wage employers that no one wants to work. Why would anyone want to risk infection and possible violence from customers for $10 an hour? Much like the peasants of 14th century Europe, our low-wage workers are learning their worth. And their worth is a lot. The market is responding, much like it did 700 years ago.
Governors in red states, like ancient feudal lords, are trying to again retrieve some of their power. They're canceling participation in expanded unemployment benefits. They're braying that the best social program is a job. Those peasants are going to go back to work for a pittance if it has to be at gunpoint. Color me skeptical that it will work. The cat is out of the bag, the genie is out of the bottle, and other such sayings. Employers know they have to raise pay packages to get people to work for them, and aren't relying on the punitive powers of Republican governors and legislatures. The market is working as it was intended to work, with labor selling its services for a fair wage. Why does the right now hate the Invisible Hand?
Some of the greatest drivers of social and political change have been the plagues which ravage humanity at regular intervals, upending social arrangements because of their deadly effects. We might be seeing that in action again.