Just as the spread of infections follows that exponential curve we have all become familiar with, and are scrutinising for signs of flattening, so too has the speed of government action.

A month ago, federal parliament was in full flight, its lower house stuffed full of politicians and public at question time and its committee rooms bustling with public servants answering senators in estimates hearings.

A fortnight ago, parliament met with less than two-thirds of its members and was closed to the public.

In a single day, it let the government spend nearly $84 billion, gave the social services minister powers to make further changes to the welfare system, and handed the finance minister a $40 billion kitty.

It will be back next week, with still fewer politicians making the journey to Canberra to give legal underpinning to the $130 billion wage subsidy.

And as rapidly as life has changed in the building on the hill, so too has daily life outside it.

The highly infectious nature of the virus means once it arrived in Australia, a speedy reaction was vital to stop it spreading and overwhelming our health systems.

While in the midst of the crisis there can be arguments about whether things should have been done days or weeks earlier, the signs are positive for how Australia will get through this, in a health sense at least.

Once we are on the other side we'll have the distance needed to assess how it was handled.

But right now the news alerts are coming thick and fast.

The challenge of fast decisions is, they necessarily are made by a small number of people.

When decisiveness is called for, you don't have time to go around taking input from all-comers, tinkering with draft laws, sending them out to committees for further examination.

For an example of how that can pan out, just look at the religious freedom bill.

It has been in the works for well over a year now - the government even at one point promised it would be one of the first acts put to parliament after last May's election.

But the flip side of working on things at speed is the blind spots that emerge.

That's inevitable with fewer people thinking about the problem and less time to work through all the ramifications.

We've seen this as businesses understand what the JobKeeper wage subsidy means for them and their workers.

The scheme seems straightforward enough: a $1500 fortnightly payment per worker for businesses and sole traders who have lost 30 per cent of their turnover, or half their income for those with turnover above $1 billion.

It patched up many of the holes left from the earlier doubling of unemployment benefits, including keeping workers attached to their employers throughout these tough times.

But more gaps are emerging.

What about businesses that are right on the edge of that 30 per cent limit? Small businesses running for less than a year?

Or those who have seen business drop off dramatically over the past month but who grew last year so they're not that much worse off comparatively?

And what of businesses providing services that aren't healthcare, but are still essential in these times, like newspapers or child care?

Then there is the plight of people in Australia on temporary visas who have lost their jobs but can't leave since international travel is all but halted and who aren't entitled to welfare.

Social Services Minister Anne Ruston said more than a week ago she was working through visa classes to see where more help could be given.

But pressed for an update, her office could only offer that people stuck in this situation could access community services offering emergency relief like food.

We've seen the blind spots in the health response too, with confusion between states about whether people are allowed to visit their partners if they don't live together amid tight restrictions on movement.

In all these cases, answers can be found but it takes external input and time to get there.

When the latter is in short supply, the former is even more important.

Australian Associated Press