Letter from Spain: Living in isolation, Day 24

View from our balcony in Pamplona. Outside, it's spring.

I felt the first impact of the corona virus on March 12. Attendance in my Economics class was abnormally low, only 11 of the 24 students. Normally, I have attendance rates of close to 90%.

What happened? The numbers of sick and dead in Spain had started to rise. The fear was Spain might become another China, Iran, or Italy, where the virus was infecting and killing thousands.

I heard that students from Latin America and Asia were getting phone calls from worried parents, telling them to come home. News of growing numbers of infections in Europe had spooked them. Besides, the Easter break was nearing, and they wanted their kids home for all the traditional family gatherings.

My Chinese students told me by email that they had gone home because health standards were higher there than in Spain, where people were still behaving as though there was no danger. They would be safer in their home country, they believed. (These two students and a Japanese student were immediately put into quarantine upon arrival back home. As of a few days ago, all are safe.)

Still, the Universidad de Navarra, where I teach, had not yet canceled classes in Pamplona. I told students that for our next class, as an experiment, we would have class virtually, via a Zoom teleconference. "Just an experiment," I told them.

Then I went for a swim at a public pool. Far fewer swimmers than normal. Afterwards, I asked the lifeguard if I was taking a risk of catching the virus from other swimmers. After all, the water is in and out of people's mouths and noses. "Nah, no worries," he said. "The chlorine will kill anything in the water." Still, I made a mental note not to use the pool again. The next day, city authorities closed all the pools and community centers.

My experience with the public health system in Spain

The issue of how to pay for health care is on everyone's minds these days, and there are arguments of various kinds on all sides. My aim is to describe here what it feels like to be in a public health system--one in which the government is the ultimate provider.

First, what you pay for health care

Public health care is paid out of tax income, and taxes are higher in Spain than the U.S. The U.S. is a relatively low-tax country: taxes represent 26% of GDP, while in Spain they are 34%. This includes all national and local taxes, property taxes, and sales taxes.

Since I am a full-time employee of the University of Navarra in Spain, I pay income tax and social security to the Spanish government, which comes to 24% of gross income (tax details here). My tax rate is slightly higher than normal because I am a foreigner. I pay no tax on this income in the U.S.