The risk the unvaccinated pose is primarily to themselves.
The risk they pose is primarily to themselves.
F or three years, we’ve been told we’re at war with an invisible enemy. We beat this enemy in a major battle through the discovery and distribution of the coronavirus vaccine. However, as the pandemic dragged on and life didn’t quite bounce back to normal as quickly as promised, politicians chose another enemy as their target: the unvaccinated.
Look at what’s happening in Europe. In Austria, where 75.4 percent of residents have been fully vaccinated, the government is threatening the unvaccinated with fines and imprisonment. In France, where 95 percent of the population is vaccinated, a negative test is no longer to be accepted as an alternative to proof of vaccination for many public places. The change isn’t about safety, as President Macron explained. His intention is to make life as difficult as possible for the unvaccinated, to “piss them off.”
In the United Kingdom, where 90 percent of those aged twelve and over have been jabbed, the government is threatening to fire around 77,000 unvaccinated National Health Service staff if they refuse to comply with the mandate by April 1. Even before Covid, the NHS was facing serious staffing shortages. An overwhelmed health service is also frequently cited as the biggest threat of Covid. Surely getting rid of 5 percent of the workforce would only make matters worse.
True, the unvaccinated are likelier than the vaccinated to have a serious case of Covid (the majority of ICU Covid patients in England have not been jabbed). Vaccines have reduced the number of Covid-related hospitalizations and deaths. But given that we now know that the vaccinated can be just as infectious as the unvaccinated, the argument that they somehow pose a greater risk to society is unpersuasive. The risk they pose is primarily to themselves. Those who want to mitigate the risk of getting seriously ill from Covid can do so by getting vaccinated. Those who would rather take their chances should not be forced against their will, out of fear of bankruptcy or imprisonment.
The prevailing view is that the decision not to be vaccinated is born of stupidity, superstition, and selfishness. The unvaccinated cite their own reasons: Distrust in government, idiosyncratic health concerns, and a principled exercise of bodily autonomy. Disagreement and diversity of opinion is inevitable in a liberal society. That the vast majority have chosen to be vaccinated is, from the public-health perspective, the best governments could have hoped for without resorting to illiberalism.
Targeted hostility toward the unvaccinated is more about politics than public health. Governments overpromised: They said we would ditch masks, lockdowns, and school closures and get back to normal much faster than we have. It’s much easier to divert attention toward the unvaccinated than it is to address policy missteps, an economy in tatters, soaring inflation, and countless other social ills.
The winter Omicron wave shattered many assumptions about Covid. It was much milder and much more contagious than many expected, and it turned out that the double vaccinated had little protection against catching and spreading the virus. Having threatened to go into lockdown again, with “Plan B,” the British government came to its senses and returned to “Plan A” — learning to live with the virus. Is it too much to ask that governments might also try learning to live with the unvaccinated?