For a few years, “pandemic” was the word that explained everything: why your cousin’s wedding became a livestream,
why your office learned what “mute” does, and why you suddenly cared about ventilation like you were running a
submarine.
But language isn’t just vibesit’s a tool. And a growing number of public health and infectious disease experts
argue that continuing to label COVID-19 as a “pandemic” in everyday conversation is no longer the most accurate
(or useful) way to describe where we are now. The virus didn’t pack up and leave, but the emergency phasethe
world-on-fire chapterhas changed.
So what do we call it instead? “Endemic” gets tossed around a lot, “post-pandemic” makes people nervous, and
“ongoing public health challenge” sounds like a brochure. Let’s translate the expert debate into normal-people
English, without pretending the story is over.
Why the word “pandemic” mattered (and still kind of does)
“Pandemic” isn’t a dramatic adjectiveit’s a description of an epidemic that spreads across multiple countries
and continents and affects many people. In early 2020, COVID-19 fit that definition with terrifying precision:
rapid spread, high uncertainty, and health systems facing real risk of overload.
The word also carried a practical meaning. Pandemic language helped justify emergency actionsfast policy
decisions, rapid funding, accelerated vaccine development, emergency authorizations, expanded testing, and
big public messaging campaigns. When we said “pandemic,” we were describing both the disease spread and the
extraordinary response required.
Today, experts aren’t saying COVID-19 can’t surge or cause harm. They’re saying the overall pattern has shifted:
COVID is no longer the same unpredictable, system-disrupting shockwave it was in 2020–2021. In many places,
it behaves more like a persistent, recurring respiratory threatserious, sometimes spiky, but increasingly
manageable with routine tools.
The big milestone most people missed: emergency status is not the same as “the virus is gone”
One reason experts push for updated language is that multiple “emergency” designations have already ended.
That’s not a victory lap; it’s a shift in how governments and health systems operate.
The world changed the label first
In May 2023, the World Health Organization ended COVID-19’s status as a Public Health Emergency of International
Concern. That didn’t mean COVID stopped being dangerousWHO emphasized it remained a global health threatbut it
did signal a move away from the highest-level global alarm bell.
The U.S. followed with its own end-of-emergency timeline
In the United States, the federal COVID-19 Public Health Emergency expired in May 2023. A lot of the machinery
built for crisis mode began to unwind: some reporting requirements changed, some programs shifted, and the
day-to-day management of COVID increasingly merged with how the system handles other respiratory illnesses.
In other words: the “emergency framework” ended in many ways, even though the disease continues. That’s a key
reason experts argue it’s time to update the public vocabulary. If policy and surveillance have shifted, our
language should probably keep up.
Okay, so is it “endemic” now? The answer is: mostly, with a footnote
“Endemic” is often misunderstood as “mild” or “over.” It’s neither. Endemic means a disease is consistently
present in a region at expected levelspredictable enough that systems can plan around it. Malaria is endemic in
some regions. So is the flu, in the sense that it returns seasonally. Endemic diseases can still be deadly.
What experts mean when they say COVID is becoming endemic (or has moved into an endemic-like phase) is that the
pattern is more familiar: we see waves, we see seasonal rhythms, and we have layered defensesvaccines,
treatments, testing, and better clinical management.
But here’s the footnote: COVID’s predictability isn’t perfect. It’s still capable of surprise, especially when a
variant shifts immune escape or when population immunity wanes. Endemic doesn’t mean “stable forever”; it means
“no longer a global wildfire every day.”
A practical test: can hospitals plan for it?
During the scariest periods, “pandemic” meant hospitals might run out of staff, beds, or oxygen. Today,
hospitals still feel COVID pressure during surges, but the system is generally better at absorbing the impact.
That differencecapacity to copematters a lot in expert thinking.
Another practical test: are we using routine surveillance?
Over time, COVID monitoring in the U.S. has leaned more on “early indicators” and “severity indicators” similar
to other respiratory virusesemergency department visits, hospitalization trends, deaths, and wastewater signals.
Case counts became less central as at-home testing and changed reporting made them less reliable.
So why are experts saying “stop calling it a pandemic”?
The argument isn’t about pretending everything is fine. It’s about accuracy and behavior. If people hear
“pandemic,” many imagine 2020 rules: shutdowns, shortages, and an emergency posture that can’t realistically be
maintained forever. When the word stops matching lived reality, people tune out.
Experts pushing for the vocabulary shift often point to a handful of changes:
1) Population immunity is much higher
Between vaccination and prior infections, many people now have some immune memory. That doesn’t prevent all
infections, but it helps reduce severe outcomes for manyespecially when people stay updated with vaccines.
2) We have a bigger toolbox
In 2020, treatment options were limited and evolving. Now, clinicians have clearer playbooks, and there are
antivirals and supportive care approaches that can reduce risk for high-risk patients when used appropriately
and early.
3) The “crisis tempo” has changed
Many public health agencies have integrated COVID into broader respiratory virus guidance. A good example is
symptom-based guidance: instead of highly specialized rules that only apply to COVID, the approach has moved
toward common-sense steps for respiratory illnessesstay home when sick, return when improving and fever-free,
then take extra precautions for a short period.
4) Communication works better when it reflects what people can actually do
“We’re still in a pandemic” can sound like an endless siren. A more actionable message is: COVID is a recurring
respiratory threat; we reduce harm through routine habits, targeted protection for vulnerable groups, and
seasonal preparednessmuch like flu, but with some unique twists (like Long COVID).
But let’s not get cute: COVID is not “over”
If you’ve ever watched people hear “endemic” and immediately translate it as “lick doorknobs again,” you already
know the downside of shifting language: complacency.
Long COVID keeps the stakes high
Even when the acute infection is mild, some people experience persistent symptoms for months. Experts emphasize
that Long COVID can follow infections of any severity and doesn’t always require a laboratory-confirmed initial
infection to be recognized clinically. That’s one reason many clinicians resist overly rosy messaging.
Older adults and immunocompromised people still face serious risk
The risk isn’t evenly distributed. Age, immune status, and certain medical conditions still meaningfully
increase the chance of severe disease. That’s why many vaccination and treatment recommendations remain focused
on protecting higher-risk groups.
Surveillance is betterbut not perfect
Wastewater monitoring and hospitalization trends can show rising activity, but they don’t always capture
what’s happening in every community, especially as reporting systems evolve. Translation: we can be in a calmer
phase and still get blindsided locally if we stop paying attention entirely.
What should we call it instead? Better labels for 2026
Words don’t need to be perfect; they need to be useful. Here are a few options experts and public health
communicators often lean onplus what they actually mean.
“Endemic” (with guardrails)
Useful when you’re describing COVID as a persistent, expected presence with waves that can be anticipated and
managed. Not useful if your audience hears “endemic” as “harmless.”
“Post-pandemic era”
This doesn’t mean “post-COVID.” It means “post-emergency phase,” where systems and people operate with more
routine habits and targeted interventions rather than constant crisis response.
“Seasonal respiratory virus risk”
Clunky? Yes. Accurate? Also yes. COVID increasingly fits into a pattern where risk rises in certain periods,
and smart preparation reduces harmvaccination, ventilation, staying home when sick, and quick treatment for
people at higher risk.
“Ongoing public health challenge”
The least exciting phrase of all timelike beige paint for your earsbut it does one important thing: it keeps
us from pretending the problem ended just because the emergency headline moved on.
How to live like it’s not a pandemic… without living like it’s 2019
If you’re looking for a practical middle path, you’re in the right place. A “not-pandemic” mindset is basically
a risk-management mindset: you don’t panic, you don’t ignore, and you use the tools that exist.
1) Treat “staying home when sick” like normal courtesy, not a political statement
The simplest habit is also the most underrated: when you’re sick, stay away from people for a bit. Many modern
public health recommendations emphasize returning to normal activities once symptoms are improving and you’ve
been fever-free for at least a day. That’s not dramatic; it’s just basic “don’t share your germs” etiquette.
2) Keep vaccines in the “seasonal maintenance” category
For many people, COVID vaccination is now less like a once-in-a-lifetime emergency shot and more like routine
maintenanceespecially for older adults, people with underlying conditions, and immunocompromised patients.
Staying updated helps reduce the chance of severe outcomes.
3) Use masks like you use umbrellas
You don’t wear an umbrella. You use it when it’s pouring. Masks can be the same: a situational tool for crowded
indoor spaces, travel days, or high-risk situationsespecially if you’re protecting yourself or someone
vulnerable. That’s not “panic.” That’s “I enjoy having functioning lungs.”
4) Upgrade air like you upgraded passwords
Remember when everyone finally accepted that “password123” is not a cybersecurity strategy? Indoor air is
similar. Better ventilation and filtration reduce risk for multiple respiratory viruses, not just COVID. The best
part: you don’t have to argue with anyone to benefit from clean air.
5) If you’re high-risk, plan ahead
The post-pandemic era works best when people who face higher risk aren’t left to freestyle. If you (or a loved
one) are older, immunocompromised, or have medical conditions that raise risk, it’s reasonable to have a plan:
which tests to use, how quickly to contact a clinician if symptoms start, and what treatments might be
appropriate.
What this shift means for workplaces, schools, and families
The “stop calling it a pandemic” conversation is partly about social systemshow we keep daily life functioning
while reducing preventable harm.
Workplaces
A pandemic mindset often meant formal rules with strict timelines. A post-pandemic mindset leans on flexible
sick policies, remote options when possible, and norms that don’t punish people for staying home while contagious.
(Radical concept: “rest” is cheaper than “everyone gets sick.”)
Schools
Schools have increasingly aligned respiratory illness guidance across viruses, focusing on when a child is well
enough to participate and when symptoms are improving. The most helpful upgrades tend to be practical:
ventilation, access to handwashing, and clear communication that doesn’t treat illness like a moral failure.
Families
Many families now use a simple tiered approach: normal life most of the time, extra caution when community
activity rises or when visiting vulnerable relatives, and quick action (testing, staying home, masking) when
symptoms appear.
The bottom line: words should match the phase we’re in
Calling COVID a pandemic forever may feel like staying vigilant, but it can also become noiseespecially when
the crisis conditions have changed. Experts who argue for dropping the “pandemic” label aren’t saying the virus
is irrelevant. They’re saying we’re no longer living in the same chapter of the story.
A better frame for 2026 is: COVID is a persistent respiratory threat with seasonal waves, uneven risk, and
real consequencesbut we have tools, we have experience, and we can reduce harm without living in emergency mode
forever.
So yes: it may finally be time to stop calling it a pandemicif doing so helps us communicate more clearly and
act more effectively. Just don’t confuse “new language” with “no responsibility.”
Experiences: What the “Not a Pandemic, Still a Problem” Era Feels Like (Extra )
One of the strangest parts of the current phase is that two things are true at once: life looks normal, and the
virus still shapes decisionsquietly, constantly, and differently for different people. Here are a few
real-world-style snapshots (composite experiences based on common patterns people describe) that capture what
“stop calling it a pandemic” can mean on the ground.
The nurse who stopped counting waves and started counting staffing gaps
A hospital nurse described the shift like this: “In 2020, it was chaos. In 2024–2025, it became a rhythmstill
stressful, but predictable.” The hospital doesn’t hit the same breaking points as often, but a surge still
changes schedules, fills beds, and burns out staff. For her, the word “pandemic” stopped matching the day-to-day
realitynot because COVID disappeared, but because the system learned how to absorb it. Her big wish isn’t more
panic. It’s more backup staffing and better sick leave so coworkers don’t show up sick and start a domino effect.
The teacher who now treats “ventilation” like classroom supplies
A middle school teacher said the biggest change wasn’t a policyit was habit. Windows open when weather allows.
A small air purifier hums in the corner like a sleepy robot. Kids still get sick (because kids), but she notices
fewer “everyone is coughing at the same time” weeks when airflow is better. She doesn’t announce it as a COVID
strategy. It’s just part of “how the room works,” like pencils and whiteboard markers. Pandemic language feels
outdated to her; the practical upgrades stayed.
The immunocompromised parent living in two timelines
A parent with an immune condition described living in “two timelines”: the public timeline where the world
moved on, and the personal timeline where risk never fully dropped to “whatever.” Family gatherings happen, but
she’s the one checking if anyone feels sick, the one who brings tests “just in case,” and the one who chooses a
mask in crowded indoor events without making it a whole identity. She doesn’t want everyone to act like it’s
2020. She just wants people to act like it’s polite to protect each otherespecially when someone is high-risk.
The office worker who finally normalized staying home when sick
A remote-capable employee said the most meaningful cultural shift is simple: “If I’m sick, I stay home, and no
one acts like I’m committing a crime.” In 2019, coming to work with a cough was practically a badge of honor.
Now, his team treats it like common sense to avoid spreading illness. He calls that the best leftover lesson
from the pandemic eraone that works for COVID, flu, RSV, and whatever mystery bug shows up right before a major
deadline.
The grandparents who plan like it’s flu seasonbecause it kind of is
An older couple described their approach as “seasonal common sense.” They travel, they see friends, they go to
eventsbut they pay attention to timing. If cases are rising locally or someone in the family has symptoms, they
shift plans. They get vaccinated, keep masks in a bag for crowded indoor places, and ask their doctor what to do
if they test positive. They don’t call it fear. They call it preparationthe kind you do when you’ve already
lived through the worst chapters and would prefer not to re-read them.
These experiences point to the same theme: the pandemic phase may have ended, but the skill-building didn’t.
The most functional post-pandemic life isn’t denial or panicit’s flexible, practical, and a little kinder than
we used to be about “just pushing through” illness.
