Contemporaneously, Dr. Anthony Fauci reasonably summarized decades of research in his 60 Minutes interview by saying that masks are not an effective way to block respiratory viruses. 

In a Snapchat interview, Dr. Fauci reasonably interpreted timely data on Covid-19 outcomes to conclude that young people could decide for themselves if they wanted to meet strangers on a dating app during the pandemic. As Dr. Fauci put it: "Because that's what's called relative risk." 

Even the authors of the "proximal origin" opinion piece in Nature Medicine made reasonable points in support of a natural origin of SARS-CoV-2 (despite revealing their cards by calling "lab leak" implausible): "..it is likely that SARS-CoV-2-like viruses with partial or full polybasic cleavage sites will be discovered in other species" and "More scientific data could swing the balance of evidence to favor one hypothesis over another." 

Five years later, thousands of animals have been sampled, millions of genomic sequences have been analyzed, and still there is nothing remotely close to a non-human adapted, animal version of SARS-CoV-2; back in 2003, using "stone tools" compared to today's technology, they found the animal version of that SARS virus in a few months. 

Unfortunately, the honeymoon of reason was brief. Overwhelming evidence that SARS-CoV-2 was not natural became a "destructive conspiracy," and if you spoke about it, you were somehow racist. 

Surgeon General Jerome Adams instructed us on how to make a life-saving mask from an old t-shirt. Dr. Fauci used the bizarre excuse that he lied in his 60 Minutes interview to explain why he abruptly reversed himself and began promoting the epidemiological theater of wearing several masks at once. 

Not to be outdone, Dr. Deborah Birx summed up the futility of her leadership with this pearl: "We know that there are ways that you can even play tennis with marked balls so you're not touching each other's balls." This sounded more like a punchline than worthwhile public health advice. Perhaps most egregious of all, we learned that "Two weeks to slow the spread" was not meant to be taken literally. 

For me, a professor of microbiology for nearly 25 years, the moment of reason ended when I stepped into an elevator on my campus and saw a floor sticker telling me where to stand (Fig. 1). I simply could not keep quiet and pretend that this was sound public health advice. 

Before long, businesses were inundated with pandemic rules. I was hired by one of the lucky ones deemed "essential," and therefore allowed to open, to assist with "safe" operation plans. 

When I arrived to conduct my inspection, the business looked more like an Ebola field hospital than a furniture store (Fig. 2). Masked customers were herded in the parking lot by ropes and signs. One by one, they were greeted by an attendant, grateful to still have a job, standing behind Plexiglas, wearing a mask and face shield.