"Herd immunity" is a term many people first learned during the ongoing argument about whether children must be vaccinated to attend school in Connecticut. What is rapidly unfolding before our eyes is what happens when there is little or no herd immunity to a specific viral threat and the resulting drastic efforts to contain what can't be prevented.

COVID-19 is not measles, mumps or any of the childhood diseases for which we have vaccines. It is a "novel" coronavirus, meaning it is not the same as coronaviruses that commonly circulate among humans. There hasn't been enough exposure and time for human bodies to build resistance or for scientists and laboratories to develop and manufacture a vaccine.

What we are seeing is an attempt, led primarily by state governors including Connecticut's Ned Lamont, to get people out of the way of the relentless spread of infection. The goal is for as few as possible to get sick because that is the only way to prevent as many as possible from dying.  As The Day's Erica Moser explained in an article Sunday, the more the spread can be slowed, the readier the hospitals may be for those who need advanced care.

Stark facts, but the governor hasn't stopped rolling out ever-sterner measures toward the goal. The Day gives Gov. Lamont credit — and thanks — for acting proactively and collaboratively with neighboring states and for conveying a sense of urgency coupled with a response. Importantly, his take on the crisis continues to evolve with it.

Between Sunday and Monday, the governor ordered the closure of the remaining Connecticut schools that had not been shut down by their boards of education and took the extreme step of ordering restaurants to serve only take-out and delivery meals. Gyms, bars and movie theaters must shut down, with tribal casinos urged to do so, too. Only supermarkets, pharmacies, gas stations and other indispensable businesses may remain open. The governor stopped short of a curfew but suggested people stay home between 8 p.m. and 5 a.m. There is really no place to go.

All of this supports his updated order to curtail the number of people in any one place to 50, including governmental offices and meetings. To that end the state will suspend the requirements for open public meetings by towns — although that has sent officials scurrying for what to do about requirements for public hearings in the upcoming budgeting season.

They will figure it out as the timelines of the health emergency become clear. We understand the thinking behind suspending open meeting requirements (just like any other public gathering, as far as viral risk) and note that technology, which is stepping into many new roles in this crisis, can keep the meetings closer to "public." We have many reasons to wait for the day this scourge goes away, and the rescheduling of public meetings is one.

All of these restrictions create a temporary society like no one under the age of 102 has ever seen. The influenza epidemic of 1918 was the last time the United States and many other countries dealt with a massive threat to the health of almost everyone. It's not a tsunami or an earthquake where helpers can safely come in after the devastation. In this epidemic, we don't know when the earth will stop shaking. No one is immune.

Compliance with government directives should not be mistaken for powerlessness, however. Anything we can each do to support others without risk to our own households offers a way to help. Call in an order to your favorite restaurant, go get it if you can or have it delivered. Buy only the toilet paper and cleansers you need, not the whole shelf's worth. Don't get careless about handwashing. Scientists believe that a lot more people are infected than have been reported to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, so do keep six feet away from others.

The coronavirus has brought far more than a heightened risk of illness. Its economic implications continue to rock global markets, increasing the anxiety level. But even though this crisis is unlike any others this generation of Americans has faced, it will elicit the same instinct for ingenuity, cooperation and altruism as others. In a time of uncertainty, this we know for sure.

The Day editorial board meets with political, business and community leaders to formulate editorial viewpoints. It is composed of President and Publisher Timothy Dwyer, Executive Editor Izaskun E. Larraneta, Owen Poole, copy editor, and Lisa McGinley, retired deputy managing editor. The board operates independently from The Day newsroom.