It’s been four months since President Joe Biden told CBS’ “60 Minutes” that “the pandemic is over,” after which administration officials tripped over one another in a race to provide reporters with wiggle room in an otherwise definitive statement. After all, White House officials reminded the public, the administration was already prepared to extend the public health emergency around Covid.
And for good reason, wrote The Washington Post’s editorial board: If the emergency were to end, so, too, would a lot of desirable policies created as responses to that emergency. “When the official emergency ends,” The Post’s editorial board lamented, “some 15 million will lose Medicaid coverage; the reason for a student loan repayment pause will end; the rationale for Trump-era border restrictions, still held in place by a court, will disappear.” The emergency declaration had become too valuable to let the relative lack of an emergency get in the way. That fall, the president extended the Covid emergency into January 2023. Last Friday, the White House extended it again — for the 11th time.
The legislature should reassert its power to manage a crisis the president himself insists is over.
But the political circumstances have changed in the intervening months. The quasi-legal regime that has empowered the executive branch to experiment with policies that had no legislative basis is a ripe target for the new Congress. The legislature should reassert its power to manage a crisis the president himself insists is over.
Those against ending the public health emergency might argue that the pandemic cannot be “over” because Covid is not over. The BQ and XBB families of the coronavirus’s omicron variant are surging across the country, and deaths attributable to the disease are once again on the rise. But the administration’s pandemic czar, Dr. Ashish Jha, does not sound overly concerned.
The tools that preserve hospital capacity — namely, the Covid vaccines and bivalent boosters — have proven their efficacy, he has said, and Covid-specific antiviral therapies like Paxlovid are widely available. According to Jha, the risk of hospitalization and death from the disease is mostly to people over age 70 who are not up to date on their vaccinations or who decline treatment for serious breakthrough infections. In other words, the risk from Covid is assumed voluntarily, and no legislation or executive order can remedy that.
But the Biden administration’s actions confirm that this rationale is a smokescreen anyway.
The administration, for example, filed a brief this month with the Supreme Court arguing that the pandemic justifies its efforts to forgive tens of millions of dollars in federal student loan debt. It argues that Congress bestowed the executive branch with all the legal authority needs it to maintain a pause on repaying student loans.
The Covid “emergency” has become self-justifying.
The same flimsiness is evident in Medicaid’s backdoor expansion. Since the onset of the Covid emergency, according to The Commonwealth Fund, Medicaid’s continuous enrollment provision has led to a 25% increase in the program’s participants. Ending continuous enrollment could cost as many as 16 million people their coverage. But the federal government has largely borne the increased cost. Many (perhaps most) states would be unable to sustain a burden that has grown without the factors that usually reduce Medicaid enrollment (such as aging into Medicare or finding a new job). But this expensive, legally dubious program was justified by pandemic-era obstacles to the able-bodied’s going to work — restrictions that clearly no longer exist.








