Measles is no laughing matter

A child has died of measles in New York State. This has not happened for thirty years. He did not die because medicine lacked the means to protect him, but in a country that has progressively called those very means into question. As of 29 October, the CDC had recorded 4,852 confirmed cases, the highest figure since 1990. Ninety-six per cent of those infected were unvaccinated or had an unknown vaccination status. Measles has not, therefore, become more dangerous, but the barrier that had prevented its spread for decades has weakened.

This is no coincidence: vaccination coverage has fallen; in some communities, it is well below the threshold required to ensure herd immunity. But above all, in the United States, scepticism about vaccines has ceased to be a marginal viewpoint and has instead become a voice that is listened to, legitimised and ultimately promoted by the institutions. Key figures include Donald Trump and Robert F. Kennedy Jr. The Secretary of Health has built a significant part of his reputation by fuelling suspicions about the safety of vaccines. The White House has also translated that culture of suspicion into health policy decisions, such as the recommendation to administer MMR vaccine doses separately, without any scientific evidence to support it.

Vaccination, however, is not a matter of faith, nor an act of obedience to an authority. It is a public health measure based on evidence, effectiveness and mutual protection. When politics turns it into a rallying cry, the virus makes no distinction between Republicans and Democrats, between conspiracy theorists and sceptics. It strikes wherever it finds a foothold. That child died as a result of a specific political context. And the question that remains is why the decision was taken to call into question one of the most solid achievements of modern medicine, as if mistrust were a health policy rather than the cause of its failure.