t the end of 2020, it was one of the frontrunners in the global race to develop an effective COVID-19 vaccine. Each dose cost less than a cup of coffee, and in some trials, the vaccine had proven to be 90% effective. However, though the promise of a cheap, easy-to-make vaccine had loomed large over fall trials, several blunders since then have tarnished the reputation of the AstraZeneca vaccine.
First it was a mistake in the dosage regimen during preliminary testing. Then a U.S. official pointed out that the vaccine’s most promising results failed to include data from older people. In November, when the preliminary results were released, experts remarked that the dosage mistake as well as a number of other irregularities in vaccine trial data had undermined confidence in the AstraZeneca vaccine. And this month, severe allergies were added to the list of the vaccine’s possible side effects after reports of anaphylaxis were made in 41 out of 5 million AstraZeneca vaccinations in the UK.
Hesitation about the AstraZeneca vaccine has contributed to an American problem which is hindering vaccination efforts abroad. This last week, it was reported that tens of millions of doses are sitting idly in U.S. manufacturing facilities. The American AstraZeneca clinical trial has not yet reported results, and the vaccine manufacturer has not applied for FDA emergency use authorization. Outside of the U.S., the vaccine is approved in over 70 countries, and AstraZeneca encouraged the Biden administration to consider sending some of its vaccines to the European Union, which has so far been unable to meet its original inoculation goals. However, even though the U.S. has not yet approved the vaccine for use within its own borders, it refused to send its doses abroad.
The American experience with the AstraZeneca vaccine is one of many examples of vaccine nationalism, which occurs when governments sign agreements with drug manufacturers to secure inoculations for their own populations before a vaccine becomes available globally. Though the U.S. has been accused of vaccine nationalism after its alleged hoarding of the AstraZeneca vaccine, this phenomenon is unfortunately widespread. Canada came under criticism in October 2020 after buying 300 million doses from a variety of vaccine hopefuls. Other wealth countries, including Britain and Japan, had adopted similar approaches, securing millions of doses from the vaccines that looked most promising before they officially hit the market. In a March 11 statement, the United Nations Secretary-General Antonio Guterres condemned this behavior, arguing that “many examples of vaccine nationalism and vaccine hoarding” were undermining global vaccine access, especially when “many low income countries have not yet received a single dose.”
Vaccine nationalism is far from the first in a long series of actions that illustrate a global failure to combat the coronavirus collectively. From the beginning of the pandemic, many countries took a nationalistic approach rather than engaging in global collaboration. Early on in the crisis, China was slow to report the pandemic to the WHO, endangering the rest of the world while experts were still grappling to understand COVID-19. In the U.S., then-President Trump invoked the Defense Production Act—a Korean War-era legal provision that allows the federal government to dictate industry production schedules—to keep American protective medical supplies at home. Across the Atlantic, Germany and France also opted to place limits on medical supply exportation for the good of their own citizens.
Vaccine nationalism is yet another sign that countries are not going to be able to halt the pandemic’s spread by only focusing on those living within their own borders. Most countries haven’t even vaccinated 5% of their populations, and some countries have yet to begin inoculating their citizens. The world blew its opportunity to collaborate and prevent the spread of coronavirus in the early days of the pandemic. With vaccinations just amping up, states have an opportunity to finally come together and end this global crisis.
a global affairs media network
The Global Cost of Vaccine Nationalism
Photo by Hakan Nural via Unsplash.
March 24, 2021
A
t the end of 2020, it was one of the frontrunners in the global race to develop an effective COVID-19 vaccine. Each dose cost less than a cup of coffee, and in some trials, the vaccine had proven to be 90% effective. However, though the promise of a cheap, easy-to-make vaccine had loomed large over fall trials, several blunders since then have tarnished the reputation of the AstraZeneca vaccine.
First it was a mistake in the dosage regimen during preliminary testing. Then a U.S. official pointed out that the vaccine’s most promising results failed to include data from older people. In November, when the preliminary results were released, experts remarked that the dosage mistake as well as a number of other irregularities in vaccine trial data had undermined confidence in the AstraZeneca vaccine. And this month, severe allergies were added to the list of the vaccine’s possible side effects after reports of anaphylaxis were made in 41 out of 5 million AstraZeneca vaccinations in the UK.
Hesitation about the AstraZeneca vaccine has contributed to an American problem which is hindering vaccination efforts abroad. This last week, it was reported that tens of millions of doses are sitting idly in U.S. manufacturing facilities. The American AstraZeneca clinical trial has not yet reported results, and the vaccine manufacturer has not applied for FDA emergency use authorization. Outside of the U.S., the vaccine is approved in over 70 countries, and AstraZeneca encouraged the Biden administration to consider sending some of its vaccines to the European Union, which has so far been unable to meet its original inoculation goals. However, even though the U.S. has not yet approved the vaccine for use within its own borders, it refused to send its doses abroad.
The American experience with the AstraZeneca vaccine is one of many examples of vaccine nationalism, which occurs when governments sign agreements with drug manufacturers to secure inoculations for their own populations before a vaccine becomes available globally. Though the U.S. has been accused of vaccine nationalism after its alleged hoarding of the AstraZeneca vaccine, this phenomenon is unfortunately widespread. Canada came under criticism in October 2020 after buying 300 million doses from a variety of vaccine hopefuls. Other wealth countries, including Britain and Japan, had adopted similar approaches, securing millions of doses from the vaccines that looked most promising before they officially hit the market. In a March 11 statement, the United Nations Secretary-General Antonio Guterres condemned this behavior, arguing that “many examples of vaccine nationalism and vaccine hoarding” were undermining global vaccine access, especially when “many low income countries have not yet received a single dose.”
Vaccine nationalism is far from the first in a long series of actions that illustrate a global failure to combat the coronavirus collectively. From the beginning of the pandemic, many countries took a nationalistic approach rather than engaging in global collaboration. Early on in the crisis, China was slow to report the pandemic to the WHO, endangering the rest of the world while experts were still grappling to understand COVID-19. In the U.S., then-President Trump invoked the Defense Production Act—a Korean War-era legal provision that allows the federal government to dictate industry production schedules—to keep American protective medical supplies at home. Across the Atlantic, Germany and France also opted to place limits on medical supply exportation for the good of their own citizens.
Vaccine nationalism is yet another sign that countries are not going to be able to halt the pandemic’s spread by only focusing on those living within their own borders. Most countries haven’t even vaccinated 5% of their populations, and some countries have yet to begin inoculating their citizens. The world blew its opportunity to collaborate and prevent the spread of coronavirus in the early days of the pandemic. With vaccinations just amping up, states have an opportunity to finally come together and end this global crisis.
