This year has been a struggle for all sorts of reasons. Here in Parramatta, we were separated from friends and family for months. Fortunately, as the vaccination rate has climbed and health orders have relaxed, social events are in full swing.
And everybody just assumes everybody else is vaccinated. You don’t need to swipe your QR code or show your immunisation record to go to a mate’s place.
At the time of writing 93.4 per cent of those aged over 16 in our state have taken their first dose; 86.5 per cent their second.
The number of first doses continues to inch up as hesitancy wanes – and presumably more workplaces issue mandates. Nonetheless, at least a couple of hundred thousand people remain unvaccinated in NSW. Chances are you may know one.
There is a person who I won’t name, close to my heart, who is unvaccinated. Someone before the Delta outbreak I used to see regularly for years and years. Yet someone who I’ve decided not to see any more for the moment because there is a gulf between us that just cannot be bridged.
There’s no medical reason for their decision. As best I can tell, it’s based on a collection of views that have hardened over time: the long-term medical effects of the vaccines are unproven; they don’t like the way certain vaccines are formulated (many of the unvaccinated are now “waiting for Novavax” – even though its supply to Australia could be months away). One or two shots will not be the end, they say. We’ll be getting vaccinated forever. Another person I know still believes debunked theories about reduced fertility.
During the lockdown it was hard to reason with people. You weren’t sure where they were getting their information from and couldn’t physically be with them to persuade them otherwise; to actually show them a news article or sit down by their laptop and discredit their sources one by one.
Initially, I used to have arguments; even hurl abuse; try and rally others in our orbit to change this person’s opinion.
But after a while I realised it was a futile mission and I had to respect their independence.
“I don’t care anymore,” I told them last week, “You’re entitled to do what you want, but 95 per cent of society doesn’t agree with you and we’ve made the decision to accept the uncertainties and get on with life.”
I still worry about this person. Not because they are likely to infect others – they barely go out.
As far as I can tell, a walk outside, a visit to the shops, an hour in church. But because they are quite old themselves – meaning that a brush with the virus could mean death.
We know that unvaccinated people are 10 times more likely to contract COVID than vaccinated people. And these chance encounters will become more common as we fully open up. What if a well-meaning shop assistant (vaccinated but carrying the virus) gets too close? What if someone stands right beside them at a pedestrian crossing?
Philosopher Noam Chomsky has argued that the unvaccinated should be isolated to avoid endangering the community.
Some move to areas like Byron or Mullumbimby to be around kindred souls. But that’s not an option for the person I know.
I imagine them holding proudly and defiantly to their position to the bitter end, content in the margins, excluding themselves from the light.
Alan is a journalist and communications specialist. He writes a weekly column for Parra News.