advertisement
What do Kazakhstan, Gabon, Hungary, Jordan and Jamaica have in common? Well, let me not leave you in suspense. They have some of the highest vaccine hesitancy rates in the world.
According to a recently published Gallup world survey, fewer than one-in-three of the adults in these countries would agree to be vaccinated against COVID, even if the injections are available at no cost. It's an unsettling indication of the extent of suspicion of scientific and medical orthodoxy.
Even more striking is the other end of the table — those nations where the willingness to be jabbed to protect against the virus is highest. Asia is the continent with the greatest agreement to be vaccinated, and within Asia, India is distinctly more pro-vaccine than most.
82 percent of Indian respondents said they were up for a COVID vaccine, compared to 75 percent in Britain, 53 percent in the US and just 37 percent in Russia. China — you may not be surprised to learn — wasn't covered in the survey.
OK, there's an almost tragic aspect to these findings. For much of India, and indeed the world, the issue is not vaccine hesitancy but availability. If there are no injections on offer, and no early prospect of them, then a reluctance to be jabbed is hardly the most pressing problem.
And these global polls, often conducted over many months, are not always reliable when it comes to attitudes rather than experiences — what people think rather than what they have done.
But vaccine hesitancy really does matter. To achieve what's called ‘herd immunity’ — the threshold at which the pandemic recedes — then at least 70 percent of the population needs to gain immunity, either through vaccination or past exposure to the virus.
In Britain, the mass roll-out of the vaccination programme is going well: all aged 30 and over as well as high risk groups and key workers are now able to have a vaccination free of charge. Take up has been high, but not uniformly so. In London in particular, a truly global city where the recent contest for mayor was between a centre-left incumbent whose parents came from Pakistan and a centre-right challenger of Jamaican heritage, there's some reluctance to get vaccinated among older people from ethnic minority communities.
There's also sometimes hostility to a system, an establishment, which has ignored them: ‘they've never shown any concern for me — why should I trust them now’.
In the United States, where vaccine hesitancy is a much bigger concern, polling by the Kaiser Family Foundation has drilled down into the underlying reasons. It's partly about political outlook — with hard right Trump-style Republicans harbouring deep scepticism of government and science. It's also about ethnicity — the outcome of systemically inadequate medical care for many Black and Hispanic Americans.
Asian Americans have on average higher incomes than Black, Hispanic or white Americans — and a higher, much higher, vaccination rate. In New York State, two-thirds of Asian Americans have been vaccinated — compared to 46 percent of white Americans, 35 percent of Hispanic Americans, and 29 percent of Black Americans.
But why is vaccine hesitancy so much more pronounced in the US than on the other side of the Atlantic, in the United Kingdom? It's all about trust — there is no public health without public trust.
Not so much trust in government — there's a deep scepticism in Britain about politicians, in and out of power. Nor trust in the news media — though people do broadly believe what is reported particularly by the public broadcaster (and my former employer) the BBC. It's about trust in those with a professional responsibility for safeguarding public health.
As with so many large institutions, the NHS is sometimes insensitive and inefficient. But it is revered in Britain across the political spectrum. Everyone knows someone whose life has been saved by the NHS. And the medical professionals who work in it are held in much higher public esteem than politicians, or civil servants, or journalists.
A service which has the capacity to respond to a health emergency — and which, when it says 'get vaccinated', enjoys the authority and trust to persuade people to do just that.
(Andrew Whitehead is an honorary professor at the University of Nottingham in England and a former BBC India Correspondent. This is an opinion piece and the views expressed are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)
(At The Quint, we question everything. Play an active role in shaping our journalism by becoming a member today.)
Published: undefined