The coronavirus pandemic has stress-tested the world. Beyond challenging human fortitude, national health services and international rivalries, it has forced a series of moral choices. Many have provoked impassioned disagreement — over whether governments can force businesses and schools to close, over sacrifices for the sake of the elderly and, most bitterly and surprisingly, over whether being asked to wear a simple face mask infringes individual liberty.
The toughest moral test lies ahead. The biomedical industry and research facilities around the world are progressing toward creating a vaccine that would offer the best chance to end the pandemic and return life to normal. But the moral dilemmas provoked by the development and distribution of a vaccine will drive ever deeper debates.
The issues strike at profound divisions between schools of ethics. The newly published "The Ethics of Pandemics," an anthology edited by philosophy professor Meredith Schwartz of Ryerson University in Toronto, presents contrasting views of academics, doctors and commentators along with a series of impossibly difficult case studies. The scientific, economic and political choices involve moral issues that have divided ethicists for centuries:
How to Develop It?
The US government says the Covid-19 vaccine will be developed “at warp speed.” But vaccines take years to develop, for good reasons, and none of the benefits can be realized if they are released before they are safe. A failed Covid-19 vaccine could even compromise confidence in other vaccinations, threatening a return of measles, polio and other plagues.
Testing shortcuts are available but fraught. The first rule of deciding when they’re justified, explains Arthur Caplan, the head of bioethics at the NYU Langone hospital system in New York, is that risks can be balanced against the prospect of better data. Thus, skipping animal testing may pass muster since the data from testing humans is better.
That leads to the issue that divides teams at Moderna Inc. in Boston and at Oxford University in England who are working on the two most promising attempts to find a vaccine. How much risk of harming humans can they justifiably take? The best way to accelerate the process could fall afoul of the long-established obligations of medical ethics, from the Hippocratic oath to “do no harm.”
In "human challenge trials," which have been used to test cholera and dengue vaccines, volunteers are injected with a vaccine and then deliberately infected with the germ that researchers are hoping to neutralize. The subjects are tightly monitored, and results are available within weeks. Researchers at Oxford are developing strains of the coronavirus in preparation for such a trial alongside a much larger conventional study, as are the National Institutes of Health in the US. Such a study will require 150 volunteers at the most.
Moderna opted against human challenge trials, and instead started a conventional trial with 30,000 test subjects in July. Volunteers are given either the vaccine or a placebo, and then go about their daily lives as the pandemic rages. Moderna hopes to have scientifically reliable results by the end of the year.
But the conventional approach is slower, and leaves much to chance. Oxford’s attempt to hold such a study in London and Oxford earlier this year came just as the epidemic was beginning to decline in the UK, making it hard to draw firm conclusions. A rival research team at Imperial College, London, has the same problem and is looking to hold a trial in another country.
Further, doctors are morally obliged to tell volunteers how to avoid getting infected. They cannot tell them to go maskless, or to seek out crowded spaces, even though from a narrowly scientific point of view this would improve their test results. It’s also impossible to monitor so many volunteers closely enough to determine if they are reporting their experiences inaccurately and skewing the results.
Bloomberg
