VANCOUVER—It’s become something of a goosebump-inducing ritual.

Each night at 7 p.m., residents in this city open their windows or step onto their balconies to whoop, holler and bang their pots in a show of support for health-care workers, shattering the eerie silence.

To the casual observer, it’s a momentary reprieve from the anxiety-inducing coronavirus news and grim death tolls.

But it may also be a sign of something else — something quietly positive.

Remember those early days of the COVID-19 outbreak, when viral videos showed shoppers hoarding — and in some cases fighting over — toilet paper in grocery store aisles? Somewhere along the way, something changed, and people, it seemed, started to become nice to one another.

In recent days, Canadians have stepped up to help long-haul truck drivers with offers of food, lodging and showers as many restaurants and rest stops have closed. Volunteers across the country have formed “caremongering” groups to deliver essential supplies to vulnerable people. And Good Samaritans have started letter-writing and pen-pal campaigns to help residents in nursing homes stay connected in the face of lockdowns.

Far from withdrawing from one another during this period of physical distancing, Canadians have come to recognize their dependence on each another and that recognition is reflected in “millions of tiny acts of solidarity,” says Mervyn Horgan, a University of Guelph sociology professor who studies the interaction of strangers in public spaces.

“It’s been quite beautiful to watch it happen and to be part of it amidst the crisis.”

Of course, it begs the question: Will these acts of coming together — what Horgan calls a “collective mobilization” — last? It’s a question that Matt Galloway, the host of CBC Radio’s The Current, ruminated about on Twitter this week.

“The genuine way that people are checking in on each other these days is really something,” he wrote. “Old friends reconnecting. Colleagues with a quiet email or text. People are looking out for each other. I hope whenever we get through this, that sticks around.”

To be sure, not all is hunky dory out there. This week Ontario Premier Doug Ford vowed to crack down on price gouging in response to businesses that were charging exorbitant prices for basic necessities. Businesses have been accused of denying employees sick leave or work-from-home requests.

But Horgan, who describes himself generally as a bit of a pessimist, says the scope and duration of the pandemic has been enough of a “profound jolt” that it’s possible some of these new behaviours and habits — the practice of “neighbouring” and getting to know people around us — could have staying power.

“We’re recognizing all we have is each other,” he said. “We can rely on governments and businesses, but ultimately we rely heavily on each other.”

Where he lives, Horgan says strangers on the street routinely ask each other now how they’re doing, while keeping a safe distance.

“Everybody is asking everybody, ‘You guys doing OK?’ I went for a bike ride this morning and every single person I passed said hello to me,” he said.

When his children decided recently to start up a neighbourhood newspaper, community members did not hesitate to lend a hand.

“In public spaces in cities, we have an implicit agreement — strangers have an implicit contract, if you like — to not interact with one another,” Horgan said. “We have language in sociology to describe this. We call it ‘civil inattention.’ We’re inattentive to one another, but we do so in a civil way. If I’m siting next to you on a subway or a bus, I don’t talk to you and we respect one another’s privacy. Whereas now there’s an openness to being infringed upon by others.”

Horgan said he’s also been heartened by recent discussions in the public sphere about the need for greater social reforms and massive public investment in health care and social housing.

Acts of kindness have also manifested online, says Martha Radice, an urban anthropologist and professor at Dalhousie University. Musicians have been holding live performances over social media and audiences have shown their appreciation through virtual tip jars. And librarians have started YouTube channels dedicated to reading storybooks to children.

“The nice thing about having somebody read a book to a child, even if it’s on a video and on a screen, it still has that closeness that a cartoon doesn’t have,” she said.

Radice said it’s difficult to tell how much of this will stick. A lot depends on how long the pandemic lasts.

“It’ll be interesting to see if mutual-aid networks … persist,” she said. “They might well do.”

Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading... Loading...

Radice said she’s also curious to know if some of the more traditional forms of communication might be seeing a resurgence. She said she’s been having conversations with friends outside her home while standing on her porch. Others are having conversations with neighbours over garden fences.

The way people are reaching out to one another and taking the time to connect — “that could last,” she said, adding: “I would not be surprised to see a renaissance in letter writing.”

Anecdotes suggest introverts are also gaining some new-found respect in this age of isolation.

Ottawa resident Michaela Chung, author of the book “The Irresistible Introvert” and founder of the blog site Introvert Spring, says introverted people are often judged and criticized for wanting to be alone. But during this period of physical distancing, people are starting to appreciate the creativity it takes to find pleasure in solitude.

“I’ve heard stories of people who say that their extroverted friends are calling them and messaging them asking for tips on what to do to stay sane at home,” she said.

But could we reach a tipping point? In the weeks ahead, could people start going stir-crazy, unable to last another day without seeing their friends or loved ones in person? Will fatigue over physical distancing set in?

“If cases of COVID-19 continue to rise, I think people will stay (or get) committed,” Amy Hanser, a University of British Columbia sociology professor, wrote in an email. “The real challenge will probably be figuring out when social distancing can be relaxed and getting people to wait that long. If the crisis seems to have passed, people might start getting ‘sloppy.’

“That said, I recently received an email message from a colleague in Wuhan who has been in quarantine for two months already with his wife and two small children, and they are clearly committed to observing quarantine measures for as long as it takes.”

One thing that history has shown is that humans are “infinitely creative” in terms of how we communicate, Horgan said.

Just look at how we’ve adopted new ways of greeting one another in recent weeks, from foot taps to elbow bumps, he said. Horgan noted that his daughter frequently uses the Google Hangouts messaging platform to communicate with her friends. And he recently had a work video conference with 48 participants — and it actually went smoothly.

But while these tools are useful, Horgan acknowledges nothing replaces actual human contact.

“We’re evolutionarily primed for that, regardless of whatever technological advances,” he said.

Introverts like Chung don’t necessarily disagree.

Chung said during her first week of isolation, she felt fine. But by the second week, she was getting a bit restless.

“After a week it did start to get to me. I just started missing having the variety of being able to go out — go out to eat, meet friends. I have lots of hobbies outside the house.”

Chung compared the reliance on online communication right now to eating a protein bar instead of a full meal.

“It’s going to get us through, but it’s not the ideal,” she said.

“There is a lot of value in having that energy exchange, in being near someone and to be touched. As humans we still need that.”