So how to encourage people to keep their distance? Restrict them to shopping in their local areas? That might curb the geographic risk of a Corona explosion without completely stopping commerce. Or, better still, why not make wearing face-masks mandatory, just for this one weekend? Simple, effective and providing a constant visual cue reminding everyone the virus is on the loose. Overseas it's been a proven to reduce contagion on so many levels.

So what did she do? Utter a few well-meaning words and encourage people to stay at home. And what did everyone do? Go shopping!

Maybe it won't matter. Perhaps we'll be lucky again and nobody will catch Coronavirus because they bumped into someone last weekend.

Maybe all this hyperventilating is for nothing: I hope so. Australia's been fortunate in dealing with the virus so far and it's tempting to attribute this to some special feature of our community. Tempting, but wrong. Yes, we've avoided most of the chaos enveloping other democracies we usually compare ourselves with - those of Europe and the Americas. That's great. Full marks to our politicians. But Australia's escape has been more due to luck and remoteness than the brilliance of our institutions.

This reflective moment, paused between Christmas and the promise, expectation and hope of the New Year, offers a great chance to consider what we've done right and where we've just been lucky. An opportunity to think about what features make society resilient, and which breed failure.

It's as if coronavirus was specifically designed to isolate the weakest link of countries and then relentlessly attack that very point. In the US, it targeted populism, revealing Trump possessed nothing more than hot air and bombast. In Britain, it isolated democratic pretender Boris Johnson by exposing the simple fact that rhetorical games, no matter how internally delightful, are empty and dangerous. In Brazil it demonstrated President Jair Bolsonaro's special brand of incompetence can be a killing machine far more deadly than the random shootings.

The shared failure of these democracies has been populist leaders emphasising individual actions above the shared needs of community. Individual 'rights' have been elevated to such an extent that they are, effectively, extinguished. Their results, the failure of populism, can be seen in the mass graves of South America and still climbing death tolls in the US and UK.

The other obvious failure that's been shared by democracies has been the disempowerment of institutions and the ossification of officials.

In Europe the threat of the virus was down-played and ignored by the very functionaries who were trusted and expected to pick up the threat. Instead they played bureaucratic games, shuffling paper from one side of the desk to the other, while the disease failed to play by their rules and respect the lines on paper that represent national boundaries.

As we examine Australia's response to the virus it's important to separate out where we've been blessed - simply because we're geographically remote - and where we share the failure that's had such cataclysmic results abroad.

Leadership at every level - from the political to the bureaucratic - has, everywhere, been critical in defeating the threat.

Over the weekend the NSW Premier casually opened a fault-line through which the virus can escape into the community.

Berejiklian's failure to institute even the most basic measures to curb the potential spread of the virus is breath-taking. She demonstrated such a complete and utter ignorance of the way human behaviour works as to throw illuminating new light on her poor choice of romantic partners. The critical point to note is the way her actions and omissions were enabled by the very people who should have known better: public health officials who owe loyalty to the people and not politicians.

Maybe everything will turn out alright and the spread will be contained. Here's hoping. But what's become apparent over the past week is that there's really nothing unique about the way Australia has curbed Corona other than luck.

Communities that play Russian roulette with COVID aren't playing with a revolver that has a one-in-six chance of killing: they've been shooting an automatic pistol that fires a deadly round each time.

This disease is not a game designed to expose the weaknesses of each community - but that's exactly what it's done, and the critical elements that have allowed the virus to flourish have been shared across democracies.

Just go back to Victoria a couple of months ago. An overbearing leader, Daniel Andrews, who (initially) insisted on his key role in determining restrictions. An emasculated public service that caved in and didn't bother signalling that employing casual workers to act as police might be a problem. And the result? Hundreds dead and a huge economic and mental toll as well.

This is the third vital aspect that's become apparent as nations have fought to curb COVID. Equality matters. Communities where people share resources more equitably have, consistently, proved most capable.

So, poised at the edge of a new year, let's begin with a reckoning. Is this the best of all possible worlds? Not by the numbers. Inequality in Australia is soaring. Opportunities are not spread equally. Rhetoric is being used to conceal, not reveal, and the pandemic is further dividing Australia.

The Australian Council for Social Service this week revealed average wealth of the top 20 percent is $3.25 million, yet the poorest fifth of the population possesses just $36,000.

Is that the sign of an equitable community? Is that the way to defeat a shared threat? Let's commit to improving our community this year. Life is a practice, not an exercise.