Skip to content
Search

Latest Stories

Fresh approach to tackling persistent vaccine hesitancy

Fresh approach to tackling persistent vaccine hesitancy

THE spectacular successes of the vaccination and booster rollouts have gone a very long way in pushing omicron into retreat, allowing us to relax the ‘Plan B’ Covid restrictions imposed before Christmas.

Yet, there are five million or so people in this country – many from our ethnic minority communities – who are yet to receive even a first dose of life-saving vaccine.


Of course, there are always going to be those who simply won’t be persuaded, no matter how emphatic the science is, or how convincing the public health need. But it’s also the case that among those unvaccinated individuals, there are people who have legitimate concerns, or who are part of communities or groups with long-held suspicions of public health institutions and/or the government.

Kemi Badenoch Kemi Badenoch

It’s not our job to dismiss those people. It’s our job to understand the factors that may be holding them back, and to try to persuade them that vaccines are safe and our first line of protection against the virus. And it must go beyond flooding communities with public service announcements or hectoring people to simply “believe in the science”.

For the vast majority of us, this global pandemic has been the greatest threat to our health – and to the health of those around us – in our lifetimes. But for some communities, the calculus is different –Covid-19 is only one of the multiple grave threats.

When confronted with that harsh reality, it’s no wonder there are many people and many communities who see Covid through the light of their own experience, viewing it as something that is not uniquely scary, and arriving at the conclusion that getting jabbed should be a personal choice.

History tells us that introducing anything other than food into your body or blood is always likely to be an emotionally fraught experience.

When the British doctor Edward Jenner began vaccinating people with cowpox in order to defend them against smallpox in the late 1790s, there was immediate disquiet.

Critics said the idea of vaccination was repulsive and ungodly; cartoonists showed people who had been vaccinated sprouting cows’ heads.

The complex fears behind people holding back is why we’ve worked with faith leaders and a 14,000- strong army of “community champions” throughout the rollout to sit down with people and hear their concerns.

Fear and uncertainty are easier to foster than trust and confidence, and inaction easier to encourage than action. But these credible voices have showed time and again that they are capable of helping people see the common good and establishing the trust people need in order to break out of the hesitancy straitjacket.

So, to help opportunity trump hesitancy in the weeks ahead, we are investing £23 million in new funding to empower faith leaders and “community vaccine champions” so they have the tools they need to take the message to communities where stubborn pockets of vaccine scepticism still exist.

Covid has taught us again and again that cookiecutter policies don’t work. So instead of taking a one-size-fits-all approach, the funding is precision targeted to the 60 local authorities with the lowest rates of Covid-19 vaccine uptake.

In a major crisis, people often pull together rather than apart, and this can be said of how ethnic groups in this country have got through this turbulent period. These “community champions” are helping us bring people through the most crucial stage of our battle with the pandemic by showing people the countless benefits of vaccination, not just for the country, but for them, personally.

This is the third year that Covid is part of our lives in the UK, but the first year that we’ve witnessed a pandemic within a pandemic of the unvaccinated. As many as 90 per cent of individuals in our intensive care units have not had their booster.

The pressures this has put on our embattled hospitals and NHS staff in recent weeks is testament to the painful truth that Covid does not care whether we believe the science or not, it only cares whether we have got the jab.

So, if you haven’t, I urge you to take that small but vital step. Book your vaccine now and get a jab.

More For You

Does likeability count more than brilliance?

Higher education participation is 50 per cent for British south Asian students

Does likeability count more than brilliance?

THE headline in the Daily Telegraph read: An 18-year-old with a higher IQ than Stephen Hawking has passed 23 A-levels.

The gushing piece went on to report that Mahnoor Cheema, whose family originate from Pakistan, had also received an unconditional offer from Oxford University to read medicine.

Keep ReadingShow less
Comment: Why it’s vital to tell stories
of Asian troops’ war effort

Jay Singh Sohal on Mandalay Hill in Burma at the position once held by Sikh machine gunners who fought to liberate the area

Comment: Why it’s vital to tell stories of Asian troops’ war effort

Jay Singh Sohal OBE VR

ACROSS the Asian subcontinent 80 years ago, the guns finally fell silent on August 15, the Second World War had truly ended.

Yet, in Britain, what became known as VJ Day often remains a distant afterthought, overshadowed by Victory in Europe against the Nazis, which is marked three months earlier.

Keep ReadingShow less
Judicial well-being: From taboo to recognition by the UN

The causes of judicial stress are multifaceted, and their effects go far beyond individual well-being

iStock

Judicial well-being: From taboo to recognition by the UN

Justice Rangajeeva Wimalasena

Judicial well-being has long been a taboo subject, despite the untold toll it has taken on judges who must grapple daily with the problems and traumas of others. Research shows that judicial stress is more pronounced among magistrates and trial judges, who routinely face intense caseloads and are exposed to distressing material. The causes of judicial stress are multifaceted, and their effects go far beyond individual well-being. They ultimately affect the integrity of the institution and the quality of justice delivered. This is why judicial well-being requires serious recognition and priority.

As early as 1981, American clinical psychologist Isaiah M. Zimmerman presented one of the first and most comprehensive analyses of the impact of stress on judges. He identified a collection of stressors, including overwhelming caseloads, isolation, the pressure to maintain a strong public image, and the loneliness of the judicial role. He also highlighted deeply personal challenges such as midlife transitions, marital strain, and diminishing career satisfaction, all of which quietly but persistently erode judicial well-being.

Keep ReadingShow less
Fauja Singh

Fauja Singh

Getty Images

What Fauja Singh taught me

I met Fauja Singh twice, once when we hiked Snowdon and I was in awe he was wearing shoes, not trainers and walking like a pro, no fear, just smiling away. I was struggling to do the hike with trainers. I remember my mum saying “what an inspiration”. He was a very humble and kind human being. The second time I met him was when I was at an event, and again, he just had such a radiant energy about him. He’s one of a kind and I’m blessed to have met him.

He wasn’t just a runner. He was a symbol. A living contradiction to everything we’re taught about age, limits, and when to stop dreaming. And now that he’s gone, it feels like a light has gone out—not just in Punjab or east London, but in the hearts of everyone who saw a bit of themselves in his journey.

Keep ReadingShow less
“Why can’t I just run?”: A south Asian woman’s harrowing harassment story

Minreet with her mother

“Why can’t I just run?”: A south Asian woman’s harrowing harassment story

I was five years old when my parents first signed me up for a mini marathon. They were both keen runners and wanted me to follow in their footsteps. At the time, I hated it. Running felt like punishment — exhausting, uncomfortable, and something I never imagined I’d do by choice.

But one moment changed everything. I was 12, attending a gymnastics competition, and had gone to the car alone to grab my hula hoop. As I walked back, a group of men started shouting at me. They moved closer. I didn’t wait to hear what they had to say — I ran. Fast. My heart was pounding. It was the first time I felt afraid simply for existing in public as a young girl. I never told anyone. But I remember feeling thankful, strangely, that my parents had taught me how to run.

Keep ReadingShow less