The restaurant market is quickly splitting into two realities. On one side of the divide—let’s call it the Fauci Line--are the customers who rolled up their sleeves when their opportunity came to be vaccinated against COVID-19.
A soft sneeze away are the patrons willing to risk contamination for reasons as varied as they are. They’ve not scrambled the way most of us did to snag the shots before their thermometers seemed to stick at 101 degrees.
The first group provides an opportunity for restaurateurs to shrug off the last 14 months as a horrible nightmare. Tomorrow they could walk into their establishments, sans mask, to greet a staff beaming visible smiles in return.
No longer would they have to worry that a party showed up with an additional guest, surpassing the local limit on how many people can be seated per table. Nor would they have to fret if Party A had inched its seats within five feet and eleven inches of Party B. And arguments over wearing a mask would be a thing of the past.
Guests could sit wherever they wanted, stay until closing, and celebrate the return of normal.
With the second group, morning means another page torn off a wartime calendar. Tables can still only be used if they’re six feet apart, taking a huge portion of dining rooms out of service. Mask wearing still has to be policed by a staff that didn’t sign on for that task. Service limits, be it a curfew or the hours a party can sit, are still in effect. And there’s still that fear that one non-symptomatic but infected guest could force the whole place to shut down in a matter of days.
That second realm has been the industry’s universe since late March of 2020. On Thursday, the white coats at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) provided a solid means of escape. It announced that adult Americans who’ve been fully vaccinated no longer have to follow the safety protocols that have cost the industry ample money and aggravation in the battle against coronavirus.
That means customers can dine, drink, socialize—and spend—as they did before learning to pronounce “COVID.” All that’s needed is a way to differentiate those patrons from the guests who are still capable of contracting and passing along a bat virus. Otherwise, the right thing is to continue requiring everyone to wear a mask, keep six feet apart, and otherwise preserve the status quo.With no dependable verification tool available, that’s where the industry finds itself despite the CDC’s pronouncement.
There is such a tool available. Here in New York, I can sit shoulder to shoulder with Brooklyn Nets fans to watch a game at the Barclay Center, just as we might’ve dome back in 2019. Our state has something called the Excelsior Pass, an app on my phone that proves I got my COVID vaccines at least two weeks ago. All I have to do is flash a QR code to a ticket taker.
Similar technology is used by sports arenas in San Diego, San Francisco, and several universities. Several major Las Vegas hotels have adopted versions to assure conference planners that they can safely hold face-to-face meetings again. The major airlines are expected to develop a capability of their own. And the devices, known as vaccination passports, are common elsewhere in the world.
But there’s no standard passport recognized by public facilities from coast to coast.
It’s a void the restaurant industry would be smart to fill if it wants to accelerate the return to normal.
Does anyone out there want to delay that process? Anyone?
Once state and local regulations align with the CDC’s new guidance, an effective verification system would enable restaurants to set aside portions of dining rooms and bars for the vaccinated, as they once did for non-smokers.
Limiting entry on certain nights to inoculated patrons would be much dicier, since the non-vaccinated could claim discrimination, but a few restaurants are already giving that option a try, using CDC vaccination cards as proof of inoculation, a decidedly unreliable method. That’s why arenas rely on more ironclad forms of proof.
Most importantly, a standard vaccine passport would greatly lessen restaurants’ policing role and the friction that distasteful task entails. They would have a black-and-white indicator, the equivalent of using driver’s licenses as a way of validating a patron’s age. With an effective enforcement tool would come more confidence in the system.
Signs have emerged here and there of a rivalry between the industry’s two major advocacy groups. The Independent Restaurant Coalition (IRC) says it was formed because small local operators had no voice in Washington, D.C., a swipe at the National Restaurant Association (NRA). The NRA, in turn, has stressed that it’s the voice of the industry and the main protector of all restaurants, big or small, chain or independent.
Those two groups should collaborate, as they have on certain federal aid packages, to hatch a vaccine passport for the industry.
There are complications, to be sure. Four states have already banned the passports, though private enterprises are apparently still able to use one in all but Florida.
There’s also the risk of appearing to discriminate against those who forego vaccination because of religious or health reasons. But the industry has navigated the challenge of enforcing facemask requirements. Is this issue that much thornier?
It’s an idea at least worth exploring. The CDC announced its new guidelines on Thursday. How’s tomorrow look as the time to start thinking about an industry vaccination passport?