The irony of isolation is that it's forcing us to connect in ways most of us never have before.

I think I've spoken to more people in this community over the past two weeks than in the three years that I've lived here.

More than half a million people have volunteered in local coronavirus support groups around the country.

It's ordinary small acts that collectively becomes something quite extraordinary.

But what happens to us after all this is over?

Will these new connections and public spirit outlast the current

crisis? You're listening to stories of our times from the Times and the Sunday Times. I'm Manveen Rana.

Today, the Volunteer Army. This is a passenger announcement. You can now book your train on Uber and get 10% back in credits to spend on Uber eats

So you can order your own fries instead of eating everyone else's

Trains now on Uber. Tees and sees apply.

Check the Uber app.

My name's Martin Fletcher.

I was at the Times for 30 years. I was what you called a foreign fireman for the last 10 years for my time on the Times.

So I had to go to the places that I used to send other people which was Iraq and Afghanistan and Syria and I did the Arab

Swing revolutions in Libya and Egypt. You name it. One time or another I probably ended up there.

Crisis always produce two reactions.

One is people who are out for themselves, determined to do what it takes to get them and those around them through it.

Other people who club together try and help their neighbours

see the only way of getting through it as collaborative effort.

Over the last few weeks, Martin's been exploring how British people have responded to the crisis,

and which of the two reactions has dominated here?

You can have the same two reactions going on simultaneously,

...