Cheering for national unity with launch of COVID-19 vaccine

I don’t think of myself as a cheerleader. But when it comes to Operation Warp Speed, I’m enthusiastically rooting for our government. The goal of the initiative is to produce and deliver 300 million doses of COVID-19 vaccines next year, with initial doses available as early as January.

As long as science prevails — and standards for safety and efficacy are strictly adhered to — our country can only benefit as vaccines become widely available. And who among us isn’t champing at the bit for a return to PRE-COVID normal? I know I am.

Now for the reality check. Dr. Anthony Fauci, the director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, said recently that it’s going to be well into 2021 — maybe even toward the end of the year — before our cherished “old normal” makes a comeback.

Dr. Fauci’s prognosis calls into question the timeline for nationwide vaccine distribution. He prescribes this dose of reality: “People are not always doing what they should do to control the spread of the virus, even now. It was stunning to me ... that in some states and cities and counties, you would see television clips of people crowded indoors at bars, which is a superspreading event if you ever saw it.”

He’s right. Maybe the people who care about the well-being of others should go to the head of the vaccination queue. And the selfish ones could go to the back of the line.

Vaccines bring controversy. Emotions and deeprooted beliefs — philosophical, religious and political — underlie vaccine opposition, a phenomenon that dates back to the first smallpox inoculations in the 1800s. A group of Americans actually formed their very own Anti Vaccination Society in 1879.

Last September, in a New York Times article, Jan Hoffman described antivaccine sentiment as “a byproduct of an internet humming with rumor and misinformation; the backlash against Big Pharma; and an infatuation with celebrities that gives special credence to their antiimmunization statements.”

Many so-called “antivaxxers” have acted in response to a 1998 study by Dr. Andrew Wakefield that linked the MMR (measles, mumps and rubella) vaccine with autism. While the study was later discredited, it set off a decline in MMR vaccination rates among kindergartners — to a point that’s below the threshold required for herd immunity.

Science has lost its authoritative voice. Public confidence in government agencies like the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and the Food and Drug Administration is declining because they’re viewed as too political.

Today, according to a recent Harris poll, 78 percent of Americans worry that the eventual approval of a coronavirus vaccine will be driven by politics. Skepticism is bipartisan. The left-leaning Children’s Health Defense, led by Robert F. Kennedy Jr., attacks Dr. Fauci for rushing risky and uncertain COVID-19 vaccines into development as part of a “sweetheart deal” with drug companies. Meanwhile, at the other end of the political spectrum, many antivaccine conservatives oppose immunization requirements because they distrust big government, advocating instead for medical freedom.

What a stark contrast to the collective good will of the 1950s, when our country came together to fight polio. The disease struck in the warm summer months, with epidemics popping up every few years. Most of the victims were children under the age of 5 who recovered quickly. However, some suffered temporary or permanent paralysis or even death. In 1954, 1.3 million U.S. children participated in a polio vaccine trial — an unimaginable number today. By August 1955, 4 million polio shots had been given.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt contracted polio at the late age of 39, requiring the use of a wheelchair. That chair became a powerful symbol of patriotism for American parents, who sought to vaccinate their children to help eradicate polio here and around the world.

In 1979, the United States was declared poliofree.

You see, as Americans, we’ve come together before. We’ve linked arms to fight a public health crisis and find a cure for diseases that once seemed insurmountable.

Division is not in our national DNA. Quite the opposite. We’ve shown our ability to cast aside politics and achieve single-mindedness for the benefit of our country.

Now, in the simultaneous battles against COVID-19 and societal polarization, we can do it again. It’s certainly worth a shot. And something to cheer for.

Dinkin is president of the National Conflict Resolution Center, a San Diego-based group working to create solutions to challenging issues, including intolerance and incivility. To learn about NCRC’S programming, visit ncrconline.com