The current epidemic is a classic application of what economists call “radical uncertainty” (most recently explored by John Kay and Mervyn King in their brilliant book of that title, which came out last month): in a world that has inevitably become too complex to be adequately captured in models, a world of both “known unknowns” and “unknown unknowns”, the most sensible response to the question “what should we do?” is “I don’t know”. At the onset of this crisis, we could not put probabilities on which forms of social distancing would best limit its spread because we’d never done it before. We didn’t know how people would alter their behaviour in response to the appeal to “save the NHS”. We didn’t even know whether reducing the spread was desirable: perhaps fewer deaths now would come at the cost of more next winter. And these were just the known unknowns. With a disruption as big as this, unknown unknowns are also lurking. We have no experience of the material and economic repercussions from shutdowns of this nature and their aftermath in a modern economy, and no meaningful way of assigning probabilities; nor of how people’s behaviour will evolve.