Let me explain why I ask that strange question. When I think of 2020, I think of two moments. The first was near the beginning of the pandemic. People cheered for doctors and sang from balconies. A spirit of sudden fierce determination prevailed. “We’re in this together!” people said. The second moment I think of was seven months later. 300,000 Americans were dead. Britain had bred a deadly new strain of the virus. The West was in tatters. And just a handful of countries had actually pulled together to fight the virus, all in the East. And so I’ll always think of 2020 as the year we weren’t all in it together.