When starting a piece about the past year, COVID-19 needs no more than mentioning, unless you've been living under, not a rock, but an asteroid. It has characterised the world in a way that few problems have the capacity to do.
The development of a vaccine that will define 2021 will not cause anywhere near the same furore, because it heralds a major breakthrough in the biggest challenge of the 21st century. But, and there is a huge but, it will only change the lives of developed nations, whose vaccine nationalism will embody the stark inequality that many a Western liberal will claim they care about addressing.
One would hope that, in times of adversity, the human race comes together as one to act in the good of all (see the narrative behind the two World Wars). Yet history has a way of simultaneously glorifying the unforgettable and erasing the torment it causes.
No doubt in years to come, when life has returned to normalcy, we will look back on the past year, and all that has emerged from it with rose-tinted glasses. For this will be a "once in a lifetime" year, filled with the upending of society's assiduous routines, replaced by a complete world standstill. This will be the year in which we came together to applaud our frontline workers for their courage in response to a global pandemic. The year that we created an anti-racism movement and lined the streets in protest at the grotesque maltreatment of people of colour throughout history. The advancement of science to create and widely distribute a vaccine that can be altered - in under a year!
But, for all the positives, the problems exposed by the pandemic leave a bitter taste.
Perhaps there is some benefit to this selective memory but it will always come with the startling caveat that over 1 million people worldwide have succumbed to COVID-19 - and the likely toll is far far higher. We should hold all of these in our minds as we try to stop that toll getting any worse.
On a national level, in the UK at least, many frontline workers still bare the brunt of austerity, with the looming prospect of public sector pay freezes being their scant reward for their national service. Racial inequality has perhaps been highlighted, but its victims still remain subject to systemic discrimination and prejudice in all walks of life.
Most significantly, the rapid creation of vaccines - seen as the solution to socio-economic and healthcare problems caused by the pandemic - has exacerbated the demand for countries to inoculate their populations as soon as they can. Such is the world we live in, those that can afford to pay for them will come first. And this poses a huge ethical and practical dilemma for shaping a post-COVID future.
There is, here in the UK, now a sudden sense of optimism about what that future might look like. Boris Johnson's roadmap out of lockdown has given people and businesses a cause for optimism, with 21st June acting as the long-awaited ending of all restrictions in the country.
This may not end up being entirely possible until the whole population are vaccinated - which the government hopes will be by the end of July. The rest of Europe lags behind in its vaccine programme which has, heightened by supply problems and political discourse, proved slightly more difficult. Nevertheless, by the end of 2021, the continent, along with other developed nations, will be able to escape this madness.
The elephant in the room remains; what about everyone else?
In simple terms, nothing. Although the Covax scheme set up by wealthier nations is aiming to vaccinate 3% of people in 145 countries, in the next six months alone, this will not be enough to substantially change prospects for those in low- and middle-income countries.
As creditable as Covax may be - it is not enough. The UK has ordered 367 million doses of various vaccines, and the US just over 1 billion doses. In both cases, this is more than triple their population sizes, and even accounting for the need for two doses of vaccine, it is startling. That alone makes Covax seem to be nothing more than a massive PR stunt targeted at improving the self-image of wealthier nations.
The majority need to be vaccinated to see any significant effect of the vaccination programme. In less-developed nations, the only people who will even see the vaccine are the wealthy (and perhaps some frontline workers) exacerbating the divide within their own countries and entrenching those mired in absolute poverty.
COVID mutations will also occur with the majority of their populations still at risk, which has potentially world-impacting consequences. Should a mutation prove to evade the current crop of vaccines, there is the possibility of the entire world being back at risk - unless they embark on strict quarantine measures and border closures.
This alone should negate the idea that foreign "summer holidays" for those in developed nations, are a good idea. It takes just one person to bring in a vaccine-evading mutation back into countries, making all their progress a waste of time.
Credit: Yahoo |
So why are we ignoring the less-off, simply because they don't have the luxuries or wealth that we do? Should it be that we prioritise ourselves, even though we are less "at-risk"?
Yes, we have problems here as a result of the virus. People are dying irrespective of their status, and economic damage is causing chaos on millions of lives. But that can be solved by less internal economic inequality (like not spaffing billions up the wall to friends at Serco). In the grand scheme of things, those in developed nations will get out of this a lot quicker and healthier than those in low- and middle-income countries.
If the privileged aren't impacted, then the problem contracts from the size of an elephant to a few cells, which is ironic, given how problematic those few cells are causing us. If it has taken the best part of a year for countries with huge wealth and resources to solve this, imagine for how long it will plague those without that luxury? Malaria is one of the biggest killer diseases in history, and it has been endemic in the lives of those whose lives are more fragile. Are we going to allow COVID to do the same?
A better route out of this would be to distribute vaccines based on who needs them most. The more vulnerable at home, followed by those in absolute poverty whose conditions are so abhorrent, followed by those who can socially distance and lockdown with only some consequences. If properly funded, the majority of the Western world can live altered lives for as long as needed. But we won't accept that, because we are so pampered into enjoying a system where we benefit despite the palpable suffering around us.
Our inability to work for collective freedom has been a throbbing symptom of the COVID-19 pandemic. Vaccine nationalism resulting from it has illustrated that we don't care enough about others for that to happen. It has proven once again that the rich will put themselves first, and the less fortunate will be left to scrape whatever they can. It does - and should - make one feel sick to the stomach.
So, on 21st June, we will celebrate our escape from this nightmare. While we do so, the pandemic will keep killing many around the world for years to come. And with all our privilege, power and influence - for that, we are culpable.
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