Ed Yong, a prominent science journalist and author, humorously quipped that during the initial wave of Covid-19 in 2020, his extensive reporting for The Atlantic turned him into a character in the ongoing narrative of “Pandemic.” His impactful journalism during this time not only chronicled the early days of the outbreak but also positioned him as a leading voice on long Covid, earning him a Pulitzer Prize in the process. Furthermore, his acclaimed 2022 book, “An Immense World,” on animal perception became a bestseller, with a young reader’s edition set to launch on May 13.

However, despite his remarkable success and recognition, Yong found himself feeling drained, much like the health care professionals and patients he reported on. This overwhelming exhaustion led him to leave his prestigious role at The Atlantic in 2023. Since then, he has focused on writing a new book and discovered solace and even renewal in birdwatching—a hobby he, along with many others, embraced during the isolation of the pandemic.

As we near the fifth anniversary of the U.S. lockdowns, I wanted to engage Yong in a conversation about his difficult experiences during Covid, the hope he found amidst those challenges, and his insights into the lessons learned—or perhaps unlearned—from that unusual and difficult period.

Let’s delve into a topic many can relate to: burnout. How did you come to realize that you had exerted all your energy? I vividly recall discussing with public health experts who voiced feelings of depression and anxiety, and I thought to myself, Wow, that resonates with me. This was back in June of 2020. By mid-2023, it became clear that while I was doing exceptional work, it was taking a heavy toll on other aspects of my life. I have a strong aversion to the term “burnout.” It conveys the notion that someone endured a tough job but eventually couldn’t cope anymore—this doesn’t accurately reflect my experience. Many health care workers I spoke with expressed that it wasn’t about their ability to manage their jobs; rather, it stemmed from their frustration with systemic issues that obstructed their capacity to provide essential care. This disconnect between their ideals and harsh realities led to what they described as moral injury—the unbearable gap between their aspirations and what they witnessed. I relate to this on a personal level in the context of pandemic journalism.

How do you reconcile your feelings against the backdrop of a world where so many are struggling, and violence looms? I frequently find myself questioning whether I have the right to express my difficulties, and I wonder if you have encountered similar thoughts. This is a valid concern because you don’t even have to look to those living in dire circumstances or conflict zones. Consider instead the individuals whose narratives I aim to share. What right do I have to say, “I’ve listened to your stories, yet writing about them is challenging for me”? Doesn’t that seem somewhat trivial?