President Trump is acting recklessly by opposing funding for increased coronavirus testing simply because he thinks it would make him look bad.
Congress is working on another large package of coronavirus-related relief. Democrats and most Republican leaders want it to include a significant amount of money for increased testing capacity, to expand the availability of testing and for the crucial task of increasing the rapidity with which patients can receive results.
There are two elements to Trump’s opposition to expanded testing. First, he repeatedly and almost obsessively has contended for months, completely illogically, that increased testing is ill-advised because more tests mean that more people get reported as having the virus.
This is, of course, nonsense. A problem doesn’t go away merely by a refusal to look at it. The real result of Trump’s approach would be that more people with the virus would not know, or not know as soon, that they have it, and thus would be slow in treating it and slow to self-quarantine to retard the disease’s spread.
In actuality, the more testing, the more the disease can be contained, and the more suffering and lives can be saved.
Trump, though, seems to think it’s all some sort of contest, and that if fewer people are identified with the virus, his own record will look better. If the numbers of tests are kept down, he can pretend statistical success. This puts statistics above people. It’s inhumane.
As Trump’s argument is nonsensical and immoral, the administration has offered a second explanation for opposing more federal money for testing. The explanation is creative, but bogus. The administration says testing should be the responsibility of state governments, not the national government. This argument essentially is based on the principle of federalism, otherwise known in a nongovernmental context as subsidiarity, which means a belief that “nothing should be done by a larger and more complex organization which can be done as well by a smaller and simpler organization.” Or, in short, that where local action is possible, local action is better.
The principle is a good one, but this particular appeal to federalism is not valid. The money congressional leaders want for testing would not require the national government to set up a testing and tracing program of its own. Instead, the states still would run the testing; Congress would provide the money, but not the infrastructure.
This would make good sense. Republicans are seeking $25 billion on testing, which may seem like a lot in normal times. But considering the trillions of dollars the federal government has been spending on the coronavirus, it’s harder to think of anything that would deliver more bang for the buck than a sophisticated rapid testing regime that could allow individuals to know when they are infected, businesses to know when employees are infected, and local governments to know when there may be danger of an outbreak in their area.
State governments, unlike the national behemoth, must balance their budgets, and they already are stressed by the economic recession. Most of them cannot afford significantly increased testing. The principles of federalism and subsidiarity would not be contradicted if the national government merely provided the funding but left local decision-making up to the states. Indeed, the opposite is true: By providing the money, the Trump administration would give states more leeway and more wherewithal, not less, to develop the most efficient testing-delivery systems for their own needs.
An observer might legitimately argue that the national government should avoid going more deeply into debt. The administration, however, is not even trying to argue that it suddenly is concerned about debt. It is perfectly happy to spend big money, but it’s just following the president’s lead in opposing testing. Its stance is unconscionable.
