Another Christmas is upon us, one that is being lived in the shadow of a great pestilence. In Sydney in particular, another outbreak in the seasonal hotspot of the Northern Beaches, my old stamping ground, casts a different light upon the way people will come together and celebrate.

It's a shame but not the end of the world. In some ways an enforced break with tradition can reinforce the importance of that tradition. There is always next year and the year after.

Australia is very lucky that the numbers of infected are so low when compared with many other countries. We have generally done a good job in containing the contagion and government has been seen to be active and competent, for the most part.

Yet it strikes me as odd that New Year's festivities around the harbour are still going ahead. You could not ask for a more obvious super-spreader that a million people jostling shoulder to shoulder whilst imbibing alcohol. I'm not a stick-in-the-mud but it does not make much sense to cancel the Sydney to Hobart and clamp down on Christmas if you are going to let rip at the end of the year.

Still, what do I know?