“There’s no such thing as a ‘free lunch.’” Over the course of my life, I’ve heard this from family, friends, and my professors in business school. I have avidly sought to disprove the point. I’d like to eradicate this idea of an everlasting quid pro quo and confidently assert that good deeds can exist in the world, fully, for their own sake. I’ve struggled with this quest, because even when one good deed isn’t enacted with a specific result in mind, Newton’s Third Law of Motion still rings stubbornly true: For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
As the coronavirus has ravaged the world and exposed truth through the lens only an extremely dire situation can provide, countless individuals have taken note of this Law of Motion at play in the global pandemic response. Street artist LAPIZ joins their ranks with his latest piece titled “Liberty Suspended,” on display in Hamburg, Germany, where the artist is currently based.
COVID-19 has hit Germany hard. As of May 27th, Worldometers showed that it had the 8th highest amount of cases out of any country in the world — 181,895 active, and 8,533 tragic, recorded deaths. However, the country has also taken an active approach to managing the illness’s impact upon its population. In a May 23rd piece for World Economic Forum, Germany’s Federal Minister of Health, Jens Spahn, wrote “I see three reasons why Germany is coming through this crisis relatively well, for now.”
Spahn cites the country’s strong healthcare system, ample testing capacity, and the fact that as the pandemic came into being, the situation allowed Germans time to prepare. Later in the piece though, Spahn explains some softer strategies that the country took in managing its people, too. He says, “we have succeeded in slowing the spread of the virus because the vast majority of citizens want to cooperate, out of a sense of responsibility for themselves and others. But to maintain this success, the government must complement timely information about the virus with open public debate and a roadmap for recovery.”
The Minister notes that while Germany has not imposed national curfews, they have induced severe restrictions on public gatherings and public life, keeping pace with similar restrictions instituted around the world to stay the coronavirus’s deadly reach. Germany has asked its citizens to stay home voluntarily.
“Liberty Suspended” drives at this sense of lockdown. In a statement for the piece, LAPIZ writes, “There is one thing we all got in common right now. Our civil rights, the liberties that are granted in our constitutions have been “temporarily” suspended. Those rights that people died and fought for and that we think are granted have been taken away from us.”
The artwork features a colorful stencil, characteristic to LAPIZ’s body of work, depicting Lady Liberty. His statement explains that the artist “painted this stencil on pages of the German Grundgesetz (equivalent to the constitution) and crossed the articles that are suspended right now and that have been declared as not relevant for the system to run (Freedom to protest, freedom of culture, freedom to travel etc).” He further writes that Miss Liberty is swathed in “the red and white banner band that is used by German police to mark off prohibited areas (mainly playgrounds),” a choice which succinctly states how are former freedoms have been seized by government intervention. To LAPIZ, “This in turn means that pillars of a democracy: protests, theatre, museum, art in general, freedom of religion have been declared obsolete. What used to be a civil right, now is a criminal offense, the free man a criminal and the freedom itself useless.”
The artist placed “Liberty Suspended” in Hamburg’s Sankt Pauli district, “glued onto a poster stand that normally is reserved for smiling politicians.” Beyond this specific, meaningful placement, the neighborhoods itself heightens the effect of the artist’s statement. A representative website for the city boasts that St. Pauli is the most boisterous area to be found in Hamburg, proclaiming “Reeperbahn, St. Pauli football and the harbour: these major attractions have shaped the quarter into what it is today — unique, loud, flashy, flamboyant, hip and, above all, colourful.” A red announcement on the website also notes that large-scale public and private events are suspended in St. Pauli until the end of August. By displaying “Liberty Suspended” in the heart of Hamburg’s nightlife scene, LAPIZ aligns his statement directly with the bustling heart of human life.
The artist’s biography explains that while he currently lives in Germany, he “taught himself to paint in the streets of Dunedin (New Zealand).” Dissecting the troubling intricacies of human society proves a powerful motivating force for his artistry. “In Africa he worked on HIV/AIDS, the social injustices there were processed via artistic statements in public places. In Argentina he adopted to paint huge socio-critical stencils. His art needs space, because ‘if you have something to say you should speak up. This might not result in a smile but at least it will make people think,’” his bio states.
Speaking up in response to widespread lockdowns proves a valuable point, though a more subtle one than most people seem to recognize. Regarding the pervasive lockdowns, Spahn noted that “this response has been necessary and effective.” I agree with this, and am happy to temporarily relinquish pieces of my personal liberty for the greater good.
The problem is trust. I do not always trust that government prioritizes the greater good above all else, and I know I’m not alone in my suspicion. Spahn acknowledges this, writing “it is critical that governments inform the public not just about what they know, but also about what they do not know. That is the only way to build the trust needed to fight a lethal virus in a democratic society. No democracy can force its citizens to change their behavior – at least not without incurring high costs. In pursuing a coordinated, collective response, transparency and accurate information is far more effective than coercion.”
Whatever country an individual inhabits, it is the duty of that country’s government to prove it deserves the population’s trust. This is not a ‘one and done’ job or a quid pro quo — “I help you once, you give me your everlasting obedience.” This needs to happen every single day. No body of power has a right to that power, it is bestowed upon them by those they govern. Spahn somewhat acknowledges this two way street in his piece, writing that “in addition to informing the public, governments should show that they are relying on citizens to understand the situation and what it demands.”
While she is a fraught global symbol for humanitarian values, Lady Liberty lives in America, the country withstanding the brunt of COVID-19’s force. Here, protesters have safely stormed capitol buildings, enraged by their momentarily muted freedoms, unaware that their ability to do so is the very embodiment of their most crucial freedoms. Here, meanwhile, an onslaught of police brutality seems to have bubbled to the surface, not because there is more of it, but because there’s nothing going on to distract us from it. Here, in America, the only place I can speak to with any real authority because it is where I live, I do not see an informed civic discussion of the tradeoffs between liberty and safety. I see an intensely varied population unified by one force: distrust. Such seems to be the motivation behind LAPIZ’s “Liberty Suspended.” There’s no such thing as a free lunch. Moving forward from this crisis, I believe governments should take into account what they must give their constituents if they desire to continue asking of them.
