An interdependent world facing a pandemic calls for a challenging mix of isolationist and cooperative policies. Are we getting this right? It depends where we look.

President Donald Trump's travel ban on the citizens of 26 European countries, to protect the U.S. from a "foreign virus," came as a shock to European leaders, because it had been decided "unilaterally and without consultation." Europeans wonder why the U.K., the 10th-most-affected European country, is exempt, as well as Bulgaria, Cyprus, the Republic of Ireland, Romania, Russia and Ukraine. Moreover, U.S. nationals, their families, and foreigners with green cards will continue to travel freely across the Atlantic and expose themselves to the Europeans deemed health risks. Markets have tanked and airlines have been hurt, with Flybe, the British-based major European regional airline, going under.

Health experts disagree on the effectiveness of international travel bans; one former official of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention compares them to locking the front door after the burglar has entered. I do not have the expertise to adjudicate this debate, but the ban will affect tens of thousand of Minnesotans (such as me) whose livelihood, family ties and education depend on travel to and from Europe. According to the European Union website on trade with Minnesota, in 2019 our state exported $7.05 billion in goods to the E.U., and the E.U. almost as much to Minnesota; and some 90,000 jobs in Minnesota depend on E.U. trade and investment. Visitors from the E.U. spent $382 million in our state. These mutually profitable exchanges will diminish. On Thursday, the University of Minnesota called home its 500 students studying in Europe.

But isn't this the price to pay to stop the pandemic from spreading to the U.S.? Again, a balance must be struck between "social distancing" and collaboration. Contrary to many other countries, the U.S. has refused to use the testing kits developed by the World Health Organization in order to rely on American-made products only. This decision made it impossible to ascertain for seven weeks the number of sick patients in the U.S. and to develop adequate strategies, according to Dr. Ashish Jha of the Harvard Global Health Institute. Only now are commercial firms ramping up the production of test kits.

Understandably it is hard for federally appointed health experts to stand up to presidential power. Therefore collaborative practices are needed at the state and local levels. There is a recent precedent for this: When President Trump withdrew the U.S. from the Paris Agreement on climate change mitigation, 24 U.S. states joined the U.S. Climate Alliance, and numerous cities including Minneapolis and St. Paul made similar commitments to implement the agreement's standards. Are Gov. Tim Walz and his fellow governors putting pressure on the federal administration today so that millions of testing kits and protective equipment can be made immediately available, regardless of their country of origin? Could cities join in this call? For their part, individual citizens can phone the White House and their U.S. representatives to ask for this critical measure.

Some Minnesota institutions are working hard at striking the balance between social isolation and collaboration. As a teaching faculty at the University of Minnesota, I am witness to the resolute steps taken to contain the pandemic across five campuses. The messaging to faculty, staff and students has so far artfully balanced directives, sympathetic encouragement and information. First we were told by e-mail not to travel on university funds, then not to travel at all, and then, worst for me, that we must all switch to remote teaching after spring break. A carefully worded e-mail from Provost Karen Hanson encouraged us to "determine and deploy alternative instruction" and stated, "you are empowered to decide what is most appropriate and workable for your courses, your instructional responsibilities, and your teaching style." This was reassuring. Even more so were the training sessions made available online throughout the day, and on-campus training that the chair of the History Department, Ann Waltner, organized and opened to other departments. Female leadership has been much in evidence. I salute also the many unsung heroes of the university, librarians, technicians, educational consultants, departmental staff and janitorial staff whose support is invaluable.

I am now confident that I, like so many other colleagues, can teach my students remotely and well, despite unavoidable hiccups, and that our students will rise to the occasion. The University of Minnesota, like all human associations, is an imperfect institution, and I know this well as adjunct faculty. Yet under exceptional circumstances it is demonstrating decisiveness, intelligence, humanity and cooperative behaviors. May this model last within the institution and well beyond, and be much more contagious than the coronavirus.

Catherine Guisan is a visiting associate professor in the Department of Political Science at the University of Minnesota.