COVID-19 Transmission: Medicine Grand Rounds at UCSF

Let's Just Get Every Face Covered

Photo by cottonbro at pexels.com

In the over decade-long history of this blog, Dan's recent post, A Tiresome SPAT, has been viewed more times than any other post we've ever written. And it's only been up 48 hours. This is a testament to Dan's ability to encapsulate the controversy regarding SARS-CoV-2 transmission in a billiant way. As I reflected on his writing, it became increasingly clear to me that the source of the controversy of whether we are dealing with droplet transmission or aerosol transmission is deeply rooted in the framework through which you're viewing the issue. These frames are associated with different values and ways of thinking, and depending on the frame utilized determines your recommmendations for mitigating transmission.

The first framework I'll describe is the medical (i.e., individual patient) frame. Imagine a patient visiting their physician and asking what they can do to best avoid COVID-19 infection. In addition to social distancing and hand hygiene, the physician would likely recommend a mask and eye protection. The physician might even recommend an N95 respirator depending on the patient's underlying conditions, the context of their exposures, and the patient's risk tolerance. In general, in this framework, risk tolerance is low, and the goal is typically to reduce the individual's risk to the irreducible minimum. This approach drives the occupational health perspective. PPE is viewed from the standpoint of efficacy--how do we provide ideal protection?

Now, let's look at the public health (i.e., population) framework. From this perspective, the goal is not necessarily to prevent every possible case of COVID-19, but rather to bring the outbreak to an end. This requires reducing the R0 to less than one. Thus, the interventions don't need to be perfect, and individual risk is tolerated to a somewhat greater degree. And in this framework, the PPE recommended is that which is most effective (i.e., how well does it work in the real world?), which factors in adherence. Let's say that face covering A is 90% efficacious, but only 20% of people are willing to wear it. On the other hand, face covering B is 60% efficacious, but 80% of people are willing to wear it. We're clearly better off with face covering B. The public health framework is driven by a utilitarian perspective--accomplishing the greatest good for the population, not for any given individual patient. 

Our recent JAMA viewpoint, Moving Personal Protective Equipment into the Communnity, in which we argue for universal face shields in the community settting, was written from a public health framework. This was perhaps not clear to the many individuals who pointed out that in some cases there could be airborne transmission of the virus for which a face shield may not work. Yes, we get that, but the epidemiology convinces us that the airborne route is a minor mechanism of transmission.

The bottom line here is that we can't let perfect be the enemy of the good. We recommend influenza vaccine every year despite an average seasonal effectiveness of approximately 40%. The best face covering is the face covering that people will wear. Though I personally favor face shields for community use, I am happy to see faces covered in almost any way possible (which is why I love the photo above). 

And if it's not bad enough that experts are not in agreeement, we have the additional problems of botched messaging by the CDC and political leaders who by intentionally sowing doubt and refusing to be good role models, make this work all the harder. Kudos to those leaders who are mandating face coverings. And my message to everyone is this: for community settings, let's just get everyone in a face covering now, whichever one works for them. After the pandemic is over, we can sort it out once and for all. 

A tiresome SPAT

I’m surprised that we can’t stop arguing about the modes of SARS-CoV-2 transmission, despite the fact that most experts (including our friends at WHO) agree on the important issues. Our colleague Jorge Salinas very nicely summarized these issues (and their implications) in this post.

The latest kerfuffle: media coverage of 239 experts who are upset that the WHO is not acting as decisively as they’d like on an evidence base that the experts themselves admit is far from definitive.

As we’ve outlined here and here, a major problem plaguing this discussion is the false dichotomy between “droplet” and “airborne” transmission that we use in healthcare settings (for simplicity of messaging, and because it has served us well for several decades—for reasons I’ll get back to later). This dichotomy divides application of transmission-based precautions between those pathogens spread via respiratory droplets, all of which must absolutely fall to the ground within 6 feet of the source, and those pathogens which become airborne, meaning they travel long distances on air currents, remain in the air for very long periods of time, and most importantly, can cause infection after their airborne sojourns if they find the right mucosal surface.

But we know (and WHO experts know) that there is no such dichotomy—it’s more of a continuum. At the very least there is a middle category, let’s call it Small Particle Aerosol Transmission (or SPAT). Many respiratory viruses (not just SARS-CoV-2) can remain suspended in aerosols and travel distances > 6 feet. As Jorge outlined, it’s probable that transmission events occur when these aerosols are concentrated in closed, poorly ventilated spaces or in very large amounts (e.g. a 2+ hour choir practice, a 3 hour indoor birthday party, a crowded bar). This may explain the superspreading events that drive a lot of SARS-CoV-2 transmission.

It’s important to distinguish SPAT from “classic airborne transmission” (let’s call it CAT). The CAT pathogens (TB, measles, VZV) have very different transmission dynamics than SPAT pathogens, as I outlined here (R0s of >10, household transmission rates of 50-90%). The distinction is important because for most healthcare epidemiologists, using the term “airborne” implies a common set of “one-size fits all” interventions to prevent transmission, interventions that require resource-intensive engineering controls and PPE requirements. It is not at all clear that such interventions are required to prevent transmission of SPAT pathogens. In fact, most evidence (and real world experience) suggests that they are not. This is why the droplet-airborne dichotomy has served us fairly well over the years—either because droplet precautions appear to be pretty effective at preventing SPAT, or because SPAT is rare even among those viruses capable of it.

I could say more about my feelings about aerosol-scientists criticizing epidemiologists and clinicians for having an “overly medicalized view” of the evidence, but I don’t want to be CAT-ty. I just want to end the SPAT.

So let’s redirect the discussion instead to: with the limited information we have, what additional interventions should WHO and/or CDC recommend for transmission prevention during the pandemic? Masks in crowded indoor spaces? Sure, but avoiding such spaces is preferred. Improved ventilation in all indoor environments? Absolutely, let’s get to work on that. N95s in the community? Don’t make me laugh, it might generate aerosols.* N95s for all patient care? Fair to consider, but by now we’ve gathered quite a lot of experience safely delivering care using existing WHO recommendations. And as Jorge aptly pointed out, “a debate only centered on whether respirators or medical masks are needed can distract us from the bigger challenges.” Indeed.

*Clarification as this comment, made in jest, has been misinterpreted.  N95 masks do not generate aerosols. They are unrealistic for community use, as they must be fit-tested and worn properly (even if we had an unlimited supply, which we do not). Nor are they, in my opinion, necessary for community protection. Face shields or medical/cloth masks are preferred for community use.