Why did the Plague spare Poland?
The Black Death skipped certain parts of Europe - and that could be a lesson for today's coronavirus epidemic
- Calm down, we're not comparing COVID-19 to the Plague.
- Well, not literally. But this map raises an interesting question: Why were some parts of Europe spared of the Black Death?
- And can that tell us something about where the coronavirus will or won't spread?
The doctor will see you now
Engraving of 'Doctor Schnabel' ('Dr. Beak'), a plague doctor in 17th-century Rome, wearing the typical mask with which caregivers sought to keep the 'bad air' at bay that they held responsible for the spread of the disease.
Image: Paulus Fürst, ca. 1656 - public domain
The Black Death was a ruthless killer – and, if you were lucky, a swift one. Its more fortunate victims "ate lunch with their friends, and dinner with their ancestors in paradise," wrote Giovanni Boccaccio, who lived through the initial wave of the Plague as it struck Italy in the 1340s.
What does that have to do with the coronavirus? Not a whole lot, fortunately. Except that the brief of this little corner of the internet is to look for strange maps, and one map led to another.
The Plague was brought from China to Europe in the 1330s by rodents hitching rides with traders. The infection with the Yersinia pestis bacterium was typically transmitted to humans by fleabites. The Plague's three manifestations were bubonic (causing painful swellings), septicemic (infecting the bloodstream) and pneumonic (choking off breathing, and transmittable via coughing). Left untreated – as was necessarily the case in the Middle Ages – bubonic plague had a mortality rate of about 50%, for the other two, it's virtually 100%.
Bocaccio's Italy was hit hard by the epidemic. Cities like Venice and Pisa lost three-quarters of their population. The disease followed the traditional trading routes north, racing forward each spring as a new generation of fleas was ready to spread the infection.
The Plague afflicted most of Europe in a relatively brief period. It's estimated that it killed as many as 25 million – a third of Europe's population at the time – in just five short years.
Absent explanations and remedies, Europe's populations turned to God for hope, and victimized outsider groups as scapegoats. Some of Western Europe's worst anti-Jewish pogroms before WWII took place during outbreaks of the Plague.
In just a few years, the Plague had moved from its entry points on the Mediterranean as far north as Scandinavia.
Image: Andy85719 - CC BY-SA 3.0
This map shows the progress of the Plague, from its arrival in the Mediterranean:
- First afflicted (in 1347) were Asia Minor, and the islands of Sicily, Sardinia and Corsica, with just small bridgeheads on the European mainland: Marseilles and environs, Calabria (the tip of Italy's shoe), and the southern shore of what is now Turkish Thrace (i.e. European Turkey).
- By the next year (1348), the disease had achieved a firm foothold in Europe, reaching as far as the gates of Toledo and Paris.
- In early 1349, the Plague had overwhelmed London and Frankfurt, and was poised to pounce Vienna and Bucharest. Later that year, it reached as far as Ireland and Norway.
- Its relentless march north continued. In 1350, it hit Lübeck and Copenhagen, reaching high into Norway. In 1351 and thereafter, it swept further north, touching the entire continent.
But as this map indicates, the Plague spared certain areas (marked green on the map) on march of destruction:
- an area in Italy centered on Milan;
- small, contiguous parts of Spain and France, on either side of the Pyrenees;
- an area in the Low Countries around Bruges;
- a large area in Eastern Europe, stretching from Magdeburg to beyond Warsaw, taking in most of present-day Poland, plus some surrounding areas.
Why? First off, the map is slightly misleading. Green does not mean 'safe', just 'less deadly'. Milan, for example, only lost about 15% of its population. Horrific by today's standards, but a mere trifle compared to the almost wholesale extinction of Italy's other cities. In Poland and the other 'green' areas too, people did die of the Plague, albeit in much lower numbers than elsewhere.
Blues vs. Greys
Interconnected equals infected, and vice versa.
One main reason why Poland escaped relatively unscathed, was the decision by Poland's king, Casimir the Great, to close the country's borders – and set up internal quarantines.
This increased Poland's natural isolation, both from the outside world and between the settlements within the country – generally smaller and less connected than elsewhere in Europe. Prague to Krakow took eight days on horseback. People infected took between 24 to 72 hours to get sick. So the issue would 'resolve' itself well before the danger reached the Polish border.
Isolation plus quarantine certainly helped spare Poland from the worst of the epidemic. One more spurious explanation is that Poland had more cats than other parts of Europe, and thus less disease-carrying rats…
Milan's significantly lower mortality rate may also be down to the city's stricter quarantine measures: The houses of infected families were simply bricked up (with the infected left to die inside).
Like Poland, the French-Spanish area, corresponding to the then-kingdom of Navarre, may have benefited from its relative isolation. Why the area around Bruges – then a thriving port with connections to the Mediterranean – might have been spared, is more of a mystery.
So, what's the lesson, if any? Isolation definitely helps against infectious diseases. But that's about the only advantage of being isolated. Take this map of the spread of COVID-19 as of 11 am on 5 March. If you had to divide the world into 'fun' and 'no fun' halves, they would correspond quite well with the blue and grey zones on this map, respectively.
For example, one sure-fire way to limit your exposure to the outside world is to have a bloody civil war – see Yemen, Libya and Syria. Another is to be a destination as out of the way and unconnected as Paraguay, the Central African Republic or Mongolia.
If it's the price of living in an interconnected world, then perhaps there are worse things than having to fight off a slightly deadlier iteration of the flu. Praise globalization and pass the hand sanitizer – with your elbows, please!
Strange Maps #1014
Got a strange map? Let me know at email@example.com.
What would happen if you tripled the US population? Join Matthew Yglesias and Charles Duhigg at 1pm ET on Monday, September 28.
An open letter predicts that a massive wall of rock is about to plunge into Barry Arm Fjord in Alaska.
- A remote area visited by tourists and cruises, and home to fishing villages, is about to be visited by a devastating tsunami.
- A wall of rock exposed by a receding glacier is about crash into the waters below.
- Glaciers hold such areas together — and when they're gone, bad stuff can be left behind.
The Barry Glacier gives its name to Alaska's Barry Arm Fjord, and a new open letter forecasts trouble ahead.
Thanks to global warming, the glacier has been retreating, so far removing two-thirds of its support for a steep mile-long slope, or scarp, containing perhaps 500 million cubic meters of material. (Think the Hoover Dam times several hundred.) The slope has been moving slowly since 1957, but scientists say it's become an avalanche waiting to happen, maybe within the next year, and likely within 20. When it does come crashing down into the fjord, it could set in motion a frightening tsunami overwhelming the fjord's normally peaceful waters .
The Barry Arm Fjord
Camping on the fjord's Black Sand Beach
Image source: Matt Zimmerman
The Barry Arm Fjord is a stretch of water between the Harriman Fjord and the Port Wills Fjord, located at the northwest corner of the well-known Prince William Sound. It's a beautiful area, home to a few hundred people supporting the local fishing industry, and it's also a popular destination for tourists — its Black Sand Beach is one of Alaska's most scenic — and cruise ships.
Not Alaska’s first watery rodeo, but likely the biggest
Image source: whrc.org
There have been at least two similar events in the state's recent history, though not on such a massive scale. On July 9, 1958, an earthquake nearby caused 40 million cubic yards of rock to suddenly slide 2,000 feet down into Lituya Bay, producing a tsunami whose peak waves reportedly reached 1,720 feet in height. By the time the wall of water reached the mouth of the bay, it was still 75 feet high. At Taan Fjord in 2015, a landslide caused a tsunami that crested at 600 feet. Both of these events thankfully occurred in sparsely populated areas, so few fatalities occurred.
The Barry Arm event will be larger than either of these by far.
"This is an enormous slope — the mass that could fail weighs over a billion tonnes," said geologist Dave Petley, speaking to Earther. "The internal structure of that rock mass, which will determine whether it collapses, is very complex. At the moment we don't know enough about it to be able to forecast its future behavior."
Outside of Alaska, on the west coast of Greenland, a landslide-produced tsunami towered 300 feet high, obliterating a fishing village in its path.
What the letter predicts for Barry Arm Fjord
Moving slowly at first...
Image source: whrc.org
"The effects would be especially severe near where the landslide enters the water at the head of Barry Arm. Additionally, areas of shallow water, or low-lying land near the shore, would be in danger even further from the source. A minor failure may not produce significant impacts beyond the inner parts of the fiord, while a complete failure could be destructive throughout Barry Arm, Harriman Fiord, and parts of Port Wells. Our initial results show complex impacts further from the landslide than Barry Arm, with over 30 foot waves in some distant bays, including Whittier."
The discovery of the impeding landslide began with an observation by the sister of geologist Hig Higman of Ground Truth, an organization in Seldovia, Alaska. Artist Valisa Higman was vacationing in the area and sent her brother some photos of worrying fractures she noticed in the slope, taken while she was on a boat cruising the fjord.
Higman confirmed his sister's hunch via available satellite imagery and, digging deeper, found that between 2009 and 2015 the slope had moved 600 feet downhill, leaving a prominent scar.
Ohio State's Chunli Dai unearthed a connection between the movement and the receding of the Barry Glacier. Comparison of the Barry Arm slope with other similar areas, combined with computer modeling of the possible resulting tsunamis, led to the publication of the group's letter.
While the full group of signatories from 14 organizations and institutions has only been working on the situation for a month, the implications were immediately clear. The signers include experts from Ohio State University, the University of Southern California, and the Anchorage and Fairbanks campuses of the University of Alaska.
Once informed of the open letter's contents, the Alaska's Department of Natural Resources immediately released a warning that "an increasingly likely landslide could generate a wave with devastating effects on fishermen and recreationalists."
How do you prepare for something like this?
Image source: whrc.org
The obvious question is what can be done to prepare for the landslide and tsunami? For one thing, there's more to understand about the upcoming event, and the researchers lay out their plan in the letter:
"To inform and refine hazard mitigation efforts, we would like to pursue several lines of investigation: Detect changes in the slope that might forewarn of a landslide, better understand what could trigger a landslide, and refine tsunami model projections. By mapping the landslide and nearby terrain, both above and below sea level, we can more accurately determine the basic physical dimensions of the landslide. This can be paired with GPS and seismic measurements made over time to see how the slope responds to changes in the glacier and to events like rainstorms and earthquakes. Field and satellite data can support near-real time hazard monitoring, while computer models of landslide and tsunami scenarios can help identify specific places that are most at risk."
In the letter, the authors reached out to those living in and visiting the area, asking, "What specific questions are most important to you?" and "What could be done to reduce the danger to people who want to visit or work in Barry Arm?" They also invited locals to let them know about any changes, including even small rock-falls and landslides.
Dominique Crenn, the only female chef in America with three Michelin stars, joins Big Think Live.
Having been exposed to mavericks in the French culinary world at a young age, three-star Michelin chef Dominique Crenn made it her mission to cook in a way that is not only delicious and elegant, but also expressive, memorable, and true to her experience.
New experiments find weird quantum activity in supercold gas.
Quantum Mechanics, Onions, and a Theory of Everything<span style="display:block;position:relative;padding-top:56.25%;" class="rm-shortcode" data-rm-shortcode-id="036ae7b8dd661df2d125a3421a0299ba"><iframe type="lazy-iframe" data-runner-src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bcVruA0AJ-o?rel=0" width="100%" height="auto" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" style="position:absolute;top:0;left:0;width:100%;height:100%;"></iframe></span>
Researchers say that moral self-licensing occurs "because good deeds make people feel secure in their moral self-regard."
Books about race and anti-racism have dominated bestseller lists in the past few months, bringing to prominence authors including Ibram Kendi, Ijeoma Oluo, Reni Eddo-Lodge, and Robin DiAngelo.