One of various ways to understand the COVID-19 pandemic of 2020 is to view it in form of a real-time experiment in balancing medical and economic as well as individual and collective needs. The modeling of pandemic preparedness scenarios before the outbreak of SARS-CoV-2 largely depended upon only two sets of information: Data derived from surveying the spread of the common flu (influenza A-C) and incomplete information about historical pandemics like the Spanish Flu of 1918 to 1919, the Asian Flu of 1957, the Hong Kong Flu of 1968, or even other types of viruses like for example HIV (Medema et al. 2004). The problem with this information was twofold. Either it was fragmented, as the outbreak of the disease correlated for example with other crises such as World War I, or it was not very well measurable due to low R0 and relatively low morbidity and mortality. Even Google’s attempt to develop pandemic influenza models based on search terms has not been very successful. In contrast, the outbreak of the new coronavirus of 2020 promises to generate a wealth of data. In the age of digital and networked reporting of confirmed infections, deaths and recoveries along with the technological promise to illuminate the exit phase of many countries with the help of smartphone applications, resembling an „transparent pandemic“ (as „golden grail of modelling“) no longer seems far away. Even if the reported data can never be complete or accurate, many expect significant progress against the background of the keyword „big data“. For Sy Pretorius, the Vice President of Parexel, a global provider of biopharmaceutical services, humankind, accelerated by the pandemic of 2020 enters an era of „Real World Evidence“ from „numerous data sets“. These datasets include smartphone based proximity tracking – that will enable epidemiologists, biostatisticians policy makers, and ordinary citizens to take immediate actions (Bean 2020). The „World Economic Forum“ (WEF) even states that due to such strategies an ideal equilibrium between economic losses and deaths might evolve (Zaimova 2020).

Other commenters on this situation are going so far as to claim that the current pandemic will transform our societies even deeper than the Bubonic  Plague or the Spanish Flu combined. Ericson Chan, the CEO of Ping An Technology (平安科技) China, one of the world’s largest service providers for finance and health institutions predicts for example that the post COVID19 world might adopt a new „social contract for data privacy“ (Chan 2020). If we follow Chan’s reasoning, this new social contract already casts its shadow:

„There is a growing number of countries like Israel, South Korea, China are combating COVID19 with rigorous contact tracing. How this is done is leveraging on everyone’s geolocation and online activity to subsequently monitor and control the spread of the virus. For now, how this will impact privacy is still uncertain. Yet, the fact is that it opens a whole new can of worms on data privacy under the humanitarian banner. Many governments are now insinuating that digital contact tracing will need to last for at least 2 years until a vaccine is fully available. AI and big data will also be more critical than ever before, especially for impact analysis and forecast. Further, surveillance types of data will be used more widely, more frequently and in a more granular manner“ (ibid.).

What role does the population play in the near future outlined by Chan? Will the citizens of the states affected by the novel virus submit to a data driven real-time dictatorship, as the French philosopher Michel Foucault predicted in his writings on biogovernementality (Foucault 1978-1979)? Or might they become sovereign entities of their own digital footprint, for example as shareholders of data cooperatives like the SWISS non profit startup MIDATA seeks to establish? The more likely scenario seems to be a middle position, focusing on the adaptive logistical possibilities for epidemiological extreme situations. Against this backdrop, smartphone based (self-)monitoring might, evolve into a more or less common infrastructure that ties the modeling of disease distribution and the proximity of individuals together in real time without using location data. 

Despite what the quote by Chan might suggest, proximity tracking and geo-location data are not exactly the same, and neither are their privacy risks. The latter might reveal detailed movement profiles of individuals, like the Marauder’s Map in the Harry Potter novels did (see „The Equilibrium of Control I“). Depending on the situation, it can either be helpful or problematic. Many people use Google Maps to find their way in foreign cities, to spot the next UBER, or to optimize their jogging routes. But all those geo-location services might become exploitable under specific circumstances. The case of the fitness App Strava is emblematic of this since it gave away the location of secret US army bases via exercise routes that soldiers shared online (Hern 2018). The frameworks that are developed during the SARS-CoV-2 pandemic take a different approach. They don’t estimate the real world geographical location of a source via Satelite and GSM interactions, but are rather based on encrypted and anonymized smartphone to smartphone interactions (Apple/Google 2020). In concrete terms, epidemiological proximity trackers are scanning for other nearby phones and distribute via bluetooth pieces of code that are derived of the smartphones unique IMEI number. Other smartphones nearby receive this code, save it, and build a contact log. If an indivual receives a positive COVID19 diagnosis, they are asked to share their ID to a central (App and country specific) database. If there are matching contact points with other phones within a specific timeframe their users receive an alert about a possible exposure. From a theoretical point of view, the dangers for the protection of individual data with this method are very low according to current knowledge  (Brandom 2020). In practice, however, other problems arise, which are not dissimilar to those of the even loss distribution considerations of early modern times. They have a logistical focus. It centres less on control than on the creation of an equilibrium between individual, collective, and economic interests. The development and implementation of the Swiss DP^3T App is exemplary for this.

Corona Tracking in Switzerland

In mid April 2020 an international group of researchers published a „Joint Statement on Contact Tracing“ (Kaafar et al. 2020). Their aim was to counteract a possible expansion of data use and pursue a decentralised approach towards data storage and processing, as provided by DP3T, PACT or the TCN encryption protocols. In contrast to this international focus, the European Parliament began to favorize another, more centralized option, by endorsing the Pan-Europen Privacy-Proximity Tracing (PEPP-PT) consortium (EU 2020). This consortium turned quickly to more centralized solutions and finally removed the decentral DP3T security protocol, which was co-programmed by researchers from Switzerland from their homepage and GitHub ressources. As a response to this, the EPFL epidemiologist Marcel Salathé and the ETH professor Kenneth Paterson left the European consortium (Fichter 2020). In the following weeks, the teams around these two researchers intensified their efforts to further develop a local, decentralized and Swiss solution. 

This solution is, as the freely accessible project documentation shows (DP3T 2020), not only centered around security, privacy, and openness goals but also integrates educative components for the re-entry into the containment (or exit-phase) of the pandemic. Beyond its proximity tracking engine, the final App will also distribute official public health information and instructions for self-isolation in the case of exposure (Ibid). Such incentives for the users self-control during the re-opening phase of the country, mirror in their intended functionality Agricola’s strategy from the 16th century to create an equilibrium between individual freedom, community health, political stability, and economic interests. While infection rates might rise again, during the different phases for the re-opening of public life in Switzerland in May 2020, the App is designed to serve as a risk mitigation tool to reduce both the logistic burden on hospitals and the pressure on the Swiss economy due to an prolongated lockdown period. As such, the Swiss Federal Council hopes to use this or similar Apps during the reopening period to „avoid the delcaration of emergency decrees“ or even lockdown orders in future epi- or pandemics (Bundesrat 2020).

While the „Swiss PT-App“ is currently being tested in a field trial by one hundred Swiss soldiers, its public release was initially planned for Friday May 8th 2020 but has since been postponed to June. As the increased media and official reference to the App and ist  history of development shows (Schurter 2020, Mäder and Thier 2020, Fichter 2020b), it will also include another function. This function is more symbolic and implicitly aims to contribute both to the strengthening of social cohesion and to the perceived agency of the population. It creates the illusion of a level of participation in crisis management that goes beyond state appeals for social distance or wearing protective masks in public. In view of the recent rise of protests against « stay at home orders », « social distancing » and « lockdown » in the economy (e.g. the storming of the Capitol in Michigan, USA on May 4th 2020 by right-wing protesters) technological tools may seem like a solution in the hands of the population. Given both their design and the way how they display epidemiological and political information, the user (even if in reality passive) is at the center of them. In the inherent narrative of proximity tracking Apps, it is the user who exerts epidemological control and can at the same time indulge the illusion of low-risk mobility in the context of the reopening of her/his/their economic and social lifeworld. This regulatory illusion of participation might be the biggest difference between past methods of managing epi- and pandemics and those of today.

The „Swiss PT-App“ might even go a step further than other proximity tracking solutions, since both the communication sourrounding it and its presentation are charged with symbolism of Swiss libertinism. This finds its reflection in a discoursive focus on decentralization. It might be no accident that Marcel Salathé and his colleague Kenneth Paterson are elevated in various media narratives to modern Wilhelm Tells of the pandemic (e.g. Fichter 2020b). An iconography that was by his contemporaries of the sixteenth century also applied to Agricola and his regulatory work „de peste“ (Prescher 1994). 

Conclusion: Digital Agency and Crisis

While both the President of the United States and 21st century techmogul Elon Musk support the US-wide protests against the prolongation of lockdown measures via Twitter, more responsible politicians and experts take refuge in the imagination of technical solutions. The logistics of control in times of crisis focused in epi- and pandemic times on creating an equilibrium between the crisis-induced interests of the many actors that make up the social, political, and economic fabric of a society. With the widespread data-oriented, networked and portable technologies of the early 21st century, another tool for establishing such a balance in crisis management may emerge. This new tool symbolizes individual agency because at the same time it acts as a population measurement tool. In this respect, it may be able to cushion the loss of balance in the management of a pandemic in terms of symbolic participation of users. Even if the epidemiological benefit of Apps such as the « Swiss PT-APP » is not yet clear, their development communicates something else, namely, the idea of a committed state that invites its population to take action themselves to overcome the lockdown without further damage. With such Apps, however, new dangers surface. Some actors may say that it could be a threat to privacy and data protection. From my perspective, however, there are more alarming concerns. The App will not reach people who do not have a smartphone. Will policy makers and epidemiologists become blind to this minority population? Furthermore, it remains unclear how the App will deal with the problem of false positives and the mass hysteria and anguish this may cause to nearby unsuspecting devices, thereby leading to a possible overburdening of the healthcare system. Paradoxically this is exactly the problem it was designed to balance. These and other concerns remain yet unaddressed. 

Dana Mahr est senior researcher au sein du groupe de recherche ERC/SNF « Repenser la participation publique et la science » à l’Université de Genève. Ses recherches portent sur la façon dont les « gens ordinaires » donnent un sens à la science, à la technologie et à la médecine. Elle est actuellement en train de rédiger le manuscrit de son deuxième livre. Il explorera comment l’essor des applications du web 2.0 et des réseaux de partage de données sur la santé influencent les pratiques d’auto-assistance des femmes. En outre, elle co-dirige le sous-groupe basé à Genève du projet DoPHiS Sinergia sur la médecine personnalisée.

Introduction: „I solemnly swear that I am up to no good“

In J.K. Rowlings 1999 novel „Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban“, the orphan boy and wizard apprentice Harry, spends the third year of his education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with his friends. There, he continues to solve mysteries sourounding a murderous dark wizard that killed his parents shortly after his birth. While dealing with this dark legacy, Harry and his friends get hold of a magical map of their school that shows the movements of the other characters in real-time. While the story unfolds, this map, which can be invoked by a tip of its owners wand and by speaking the words „I solemnly swear that I am up to no good“ proves to be very helpful for Harry and his friends for navigating throug the increasingly hostile enviornment of their school. At the same time, the map reveals accidentally a lot about the behaviors and preferences of innocent bystanders.

The closest thing to this fictional „Marauder’s Map“ we have today are the algorithms that are analyzing the data that the smartphones in our pockets send to our mobile operators and App creators. This type of information might play a vital role in how the COVID19 pandemic of 2020 will end. During the latter half of April 2020, when the rate of infection with the SARS-CoV-2 virus began to slow down in some countries, plans were already underway to resume both economic and public life before the pandemic was actually over. For many political, medical, and industrial actors, the use of Apps that collect and evaluate movement and contact profiles of citizens seems right now to be a promising option (Brandom 2020). From a sociological and historical perspective, SARS-CoV-2 related proximity tracking Apps appear to function in two ways. They seem to be developed as a tool to balance the delicate line between a state’s inherent moral obligation to protect the lives and privacy of its population versus its self-preserving need to reduce the overall damage to the economic system due to lock-down measures. However, such Apps also operate at the level of the individual as a self-regulatory tool to generate the experience of security in a time of uncertainty. Both functions, namely that of individual and collective perseveration center around logistics, more specifically logistics of control. The aim of this article is to shed light upon the relationship between logistics and behavioral control in times of crisis from a multi-angled comparative perspective.

In the first part of this contribution I will adopt a historical gaze and ask, how political entities of the past tried to balance economy, individual, and public health. The second part shall take a closer look at modern smart phone based methods of proximity tracing (see „The Equilibrium of Control II“), which contain characteristics that seem to be functionally analogue to historical plague-exit-strategies that focused on the idea of even-loss distributions. I center this exploration on the discourse sourrounding COVID-19 Apps – especially the Decentralized Privacy-Preserving Proximity Tracking (DP^3T) App, currently developed by the „Ecole Polytechnique Fédérale de Lausanne“ (EPFL) and the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology in Zurich(ETH). 

The invention of balance

Balacing both individual health and public health was historically and still is key in every epi- and pandemic. But what does balance mean, and what is the difference between individual health and public health? To unravel this, a look back into the early history of epidemiological control might be enlightening, given the fact that research on the modeling of pandemic preparedness has neglected this angle during the past 20 years (see Medema et al 2004; Price-Smith and Huang 2009).

At the beginning of December 1347, twelve Genoese ships discharged their cargo in the port of Messina (Sicily). The merchant ships came from the Black Sea coast. A short time later, a terrible disease spread all over lower Italy. People got bumps in the groin, armpit areas, and began to spit blood under extreme pain. Their skin covered with dark spots as a result of internal bleeding and a few days later, they died of the „Black Death“, as the bubonic plague was then called. Marseille was the first French city to be infected with this new disease. From there, it spread northwards and reached the English coast near Southampton in December 1348. One year later, almost all of Europe was affected (Stuard 1973). The plague spread inland, especially via the port cities, e.g. from Hamburg at the end of 1349. For the people of the late Middle Ages, this epidemic was a catastrophe. Nobody knew that it was transmitted by rat fleas. Doctors puzzled over its causes, speaking of „miasms“, which were caused by putrefaction processes in the air, which could be fought by fumigation or dieting. But even the Parisian Sorbonne and others of the new knowledge institutions called universities remained largely baffled. Beyond superstition and its terrible effects, such as the persecution of Jews as « well poisoners“ or „miasma distributors », some of the contemporary commercial centres began to explore a different path. One such center was the Republic of Ragusa, today Dubrovnik, Croatia. The councillors of the Republic wondered in 1377 whether their population could be somehow managed and hereby preserved, since they were the economic basis of the political system of the Republic. This new idea, put forward by one of the councillors, initially seemed counterintuitive and contradicted the medical and religious ideas of the time, which today we understand as practicing isolation and social distancing (Stevens Crawshaw 2013). Foreign seamen and merchants, it was decided, were to be detained for thirty days on a nearby rocky island. According to the decree, only if they showed no symptoms of illness and survived the month would their ships be allowed to enter the harbour and sell their goods. During this phase of isolation, only people authorised by the Council would be allowed to supply the isolated with food and other essential goods.

Nearly one hundred years later, Georgius Agricola (1494-1555), mineralogist, metallurgist, and (rather involuntarily) city physician of the merchants city of Chemnitz in Saxony (today Germany), was commissioned by his city superiors to design a strategy to handle the outbreak of a plague that was ravaging the kingdom of Saxony. Not only did he incorporate the strategies of the Republic of Ragusa (which had long been forgotten along with ancient and biblical sources) but he also expanded and systematized them against the background of early modern military strategies (Prescher 1994). His three books on the plague (De peste libris tres, 1554) outline many elements of modern epidemiological considerations in a very accessible Latin. That is, tracking the contacts that infected individuals had in the early stages of an epidemic as well as their isolation and observation. Furthermore, he introduced the idea of a second phase with appropriate strategies in case the situation in the city should deteriorate. In addition to social distancing and the restriction of public life to its essential, the establishment of special medical centers, so-called „lazaretts“ (a term later adopted into military jargon), which would provide both medical care and quarantine were introduced. Surprisingly, he even thought about an exit strategy for a city in lockdown, which, after the peak of an epidemic, slowly seeks to restart its public life and economy. This phase of an epidemic (so Agricola) should be based on surveillance and the self-monitoring of citizens, both in line with early modern state doctrine (Agricola 1554). 

What is remarkable in these two examples of medieval and early modern crisis response is not only the fact that there are some anectodical similarities with  the global responses to the new coronavirus SARS-CoV-2 in 2020, northat the outbreak is understood as a by-product of a globalized trading system, but rather that those responses are designed to mediate between economic, individual, and community interests. The strategies outlined by Agricola conceptualize the possibility of a „lockdown“ of the city of Chemnitz foremost as a logistical problem. The lazaretts he was planning had only a certain capacity for patients, which is why he considered them to be effective only in connection with curfews and a reduction in trade. He believed that if the rate of infection became too high, the economy of medicine in the city would very quickly reach its limits (Ibid). According to Agricola, shutting down the city should be an economic measure in itself, not unlike an economic bet. Trade damage is accepted in order to avoid later and possibly much worse damage to the economy, namely damage to those who are no longer able to trade and produce products at all. He also regarded the reopening of Chemnitz as an economic wager, namely that surveillance measures during a diminishing epidemic with a simultaneous reopening of public life could potentially keep the number of those infected low, but could give a political and economic advantage over other Saxon cities (Ibid). 

Conclusion: The Art of Crisis Managment 

Balancing individual health, communal health, and economy means in this sense, to distribute possible damage (to lives, to incomes etc.) as evenly as possible. In a way, doing so might also offer a possible future advantage over other communities (whether cities or states). The art of epidemological crisis management resembles therefore a risk strategy. Both in political terms (if too many people die, there could be an uprising) and in economic terms (if everything remains closed, the city, state, companies and individuals will lose their income, which in the end could also cost lives). Is this competitive game of even-loss distribution also taking place in the case of the global corona virus crisis of 2020?

Dana Mahr est senior researcher au sein du groupe de recherche ERC/SNF « Repenser la participation publique et la science » à l’Université de Genève. Ses recherches portent sur la façon dont les « gens ordinaires » donnent un sens à la science, à la technologie et à la médecine. Elle est actuellement en train de rédiger le manuscrit de son deuxième livre. Il explorera comment l’essor des applications du web 2.0 et des réseaux de partage de données sur la santé influencent les pratiques d’auto-assistance des femmes. En outre, elle co-dirige le sous-groupe basé à Genève du projet DoPHiS Sinergia sur la médecine personnalisée.

La smart city, ou ville intelligente, est un modèle de développement urbain fondé sur un usage intensif des données et des technologies. Ce modèle est désormais bien connu puisqu’il s’est largement diffusé à travers le monde ces dernières années. Les données et les technologies de la smart city sont aujourd’hui utilisées dans différents contextes – notamment en Chine, en Corée du Sud ou en Afrique du Sud – pour faire face à la crise sanitaire que nous traversons. Dans les villes indiennes par exemple, les centres de contrôle destinés à piloter la ville par l’intermédiaires de caméras et de capteurs de données ont été massivement transformées ces dernières semaines en centres de gestion de la pandémie. Cependant, ceci ne constitue qu’une partie d’un phénomène plus large de gestion ‘smart’ de la crise sanitaire, qui engage aussi les entreprises et la société civile. Pour saisir les enjeux de cette mobilisation des technologies et lutter contre les inégalités que creuse la pandémie et sa gestion, il est nécessaire d’élargir notre attention à ces différents modes d’existence de la smart city dans la pandémie. Il est également important de soutenir, comme nous allons le voir, le travail vital de ce qu’on peut appeler la smart city citoyenne ou la troisième smart city.

Trois smart cities

Les centres de commande et de contrôle, qui ressemblent beaucoup à des centres de surveillance policière, sont devenus l’icône de la smart city. Mis en place par les municipalités, fréquemment avec des financements gouvernementaux et des partenariats avec le privé, ils donnent une vision concrète de cette ville dite « intelligente ». Ces données et technologies urbaines sont aussi utilisées par les plateformes digitales comme airbnb, uber, deliveroo pour faire fonctionner des services liés au tourisme et à la mobilité. Les données produites et les algorithmes utilisés par cette deuxième forme de smart city – qu’on appelle aussi “urbanisme de plateforme” – échappent aux pouvoirs publics, ce qui rend la régulation de ces activités très difficile (pour autant qu’on veuille la mettre en place…). Enfin, il y a une troisième forme de smart city, plus souterraine qui échappe généralement à nos radars: celle des citoyens ordinaires et de la société civile. Il s’agit ici, par exemple, de la mise en place par des résidents d’un quartier exposé de capteurs mesurant la pollution de l’air ou du travail d’ONGs recensant au moyen de systèmes de géolocalisation la population et l’accès aux services de base (eau, électricité, égouts) dans les quartiers informels des villes du Sud. On parle dans ce cas d’activisme numérique ou de data activism, puisqu’il s’agit de faire reconnaître des droits en produisant des données qui ne sont pas (volontairement ou non) recueillies par les Etats. La pandémie que nous traversons révèle les opportunités, les risques et les effets pervers de ces trois modes d’existence des smart cities et de leurs articulations.

La ville pandémique smart

Les pays asiatiques ont été les premiers à utiliser le traçage des personnes, affectées ou non par le virus, pour gérer la crise sanitaire et suivre les voies de transmission de Covid-19. Singapour a mis rapidement en place l’application TraceTogether permettant de reconstituer par des échanges d’information automatiques via bluetooth les contacts avec des personnes testées positives. La Corée du Sud a mis en place précocément également un traçage des personnes infectées en combinant les données issues de son vaste réseau de caméras de surveillance, des fonctions de géolocalisation des smartphones et des traces laissées par l’usage des cartes de crédit. En Inde, les centres de contrôle et de commande, ainsi que des drones sont utilisés de façon inquiétante pour traquer les contrevenants aux règles de confinement.

La deuxième smart city est elle aussi engagée dans la gestion de la crise sanitaire puisque des entreprises de télécommunications collaborent avec les Etats pour mettre en place un traçage de la mobilité des personnes. Apple et Google ont ainsi développé un système de traçage théoriquement moins invasif du point de vue de la vie privée et potentiellement mieux accepté dans des régions plus sensibles à ces questions. Cette articulation entre la première et la deuxième smart city pose de nombreuses questions, dont celles du caractère temporaire ou non du régime d’exception mis en place – cette surveillance va-t-elle se poursuivre après la pandémie? – et celle de la protection des données. L’application du gouvernement indien – qui s’appelle Aarogya Setu (le pont de la santé) – a par exemple été développée de façon très peu transparente avec des entreprises pharmaceutiques.

Les activités de la troisième smart city, celle des citoyen.ne.s et de la société civile, dans la pandémie est la moins visible. Pourtant elle effectue un travail essentiel, qui est de trois ordres: organiser des réseaux de solidarité, produire des données sur des phénomènes non pris en compte par les Etats et les entreprises privées et résister dans les Etats autoritaires à la violence exercées sur les plus vulnérables.

L’intelligence urbaine ordinaire dans la pandémie

Une nouvelle normalité s’est installée dans nos vies depuis quelques semaines, avec la multiplication d’appels par vidéoconférence pour travailler, s’inquiéter de la santé de nos proches, rester en lien et se divertir. Une solidarité on-line s’est aussi massivement développée pour aider des personnes âgées inconnues dans les immeubles, les quartiers ou les villes. Ceci notamment pour leur apporter des biens de première nécessité. Si ces initiatives sont importantes dans les villes du Nord (au sens économique et non géographique du terme), elles sont vitales dans les villes du Sud. Cette troisième smart city met en effet aujourd’hui au service des personnes les plus fragiles ses connaissances et ses données concernant les secteurs urbains informels, qui correspondent généralement à des trous noirs dans les statistiques de l’Etat. Dans les quartiers informels, ce sont les ONGs qui ont les données, savent où les personnes habitent, connaissent le nombre de personnes par logement et savent si elles ont accès à l’eau pour se laver les mains ou à des toilettes. Alors que l’Etat intervient en Afrique du Sud pour « dédensifier » les quartiers informels et en Inde pour pourchasser les migrants internes qui tentent de survivre en rejoignant leur lieu d’origine, ces acteurs de la smart city d’en-dessous organisent des conditions de survie pour les plus précaires. Dans la ville du Cap par exemple, l’association Cape Town Together a mis en place en quelques jours un quadrillage de la ville par 40 réseaux d’action communautaire, qui mobilisent par des moyens technologiques simples (smartphones et réseaux sociaux) les compétences présentes dans chaque quartier au service des personnes les plus vulnérables.

Les activistes numériques poursuivent aussi en ces temps de confinement et de pandémie leur travail de vigilance par rapport aux pouvoirs publics. Elles et ils continuent à critiquer les failles d’une gestion de crise qui repose sur des données sélectives et manquantes. Ainsi, de nombreux Indiens n’ont pas de carte d’identité et ne seront pas comptabilisés dans les victimes de la pandémie. De nombreuses ONG critiquent également les dispositifs de surveillance et d’intervention policière contre les personnes qui – parce que sans ressources ou sans toit – ne peuvent pas « se payer le luxe » du confinement. Il y a quelques jours, la police du Cap tirait avec des balles en caoutchouc contre des sans abris mis en camp de confinement tentant de le quitter parce qu’ils n’avaient pas à manger.

Il arrive que la première, la deuxième et la troisième smart city collaborent dans la lutte contre la pandémie. C’est le cas par exemple de l’entreprise Soulace en Inde qui a développé une application au service de l’intervention des ONGs en temps de pandémie. Le plus souvent cependant cette troisième smart city, essentielle pour limiter les effets de la pandémie dans les pays du Sud, travaille avec des moyens très limités. Il est crucial, alors que la pandémie ne fait sans doute que commencer dans ces régions, que la communauté internationale la soutienne. Surtout en ces temps où le gouvernement des Etats-Unis gèle de façon irresponsable ses financements à l’OMS.