When Statistics Meet Reality

Since we seem to have divided up our world into binaries and labels, let me start by identifying myself with one: I’m pro-vaccines. 

I’m a child of two doctors, who grew up with medical conversations being a regular feature of the dinner table. I’ve gone through my complete share of vaccines as a child (and bawled my way through each of them, because, you know, injections). I’ve grown up hearing my parents and other elders talk about the advancement of medical science, and the kinds of diseases they grew up around which have almost been eradicated now, thanks to vaccinations. My parents would often look at the news in recent times and shake their heads and wonder: how can you possibly be ‘anti’ vaccines, given how many lives they have saved?

So when vaccines came out for covid, to me it was a no-brainer that people should get vaccinated. I know in India there was some concern about a particular vaccine given the speed with which it was pushed out, but a conversation with my dad assuaged that concern. He admitted that the effectiveness of these vaccines was hard to be completely sure of at this stage; but at the same time, there was no major health risk from getting one.

As a result, I became a fairly vocal advocate of the vaccine (vocal when asked for my opinion, that is). A friend once messaged me, asking me to check with my parents if they felt it was safe to get the vaccines. I relayed their response (which was a resounding ‘yes’). Before signing off, my friend jokingly messaged saying, “In case I die because of this vaccine, I’m going to come back and haunt you and your entire family!”

I laughed it off. 

But somewhere, deep down, a tiny part of me squirmed. It was safe, right?

Well, every vaccine carried a risk, but the point was, that risk was very, very low.

And for the most part, the data confirmed it. The world over, vaccination drives had begun with enthusiasm. Most people seemed to develop mild to no symptoms. I could see the same at home. Dad developed no symptoms; mom got some fever and body ache for a few days after her first shot. All the senior citizens in my extended family had a similar experience.

But occasionally, in the news, a report would pop up: about people (in other countries) developing adverse or critical effects post vaccination. A few people were developing blood clots, which were becoming fatal. Research was undertaken; some restrictions even placed on the vaccines in western countries. But again and again, the data said the same thing: the chances of developing serious adverse health effects were very, very low. I remember reading somewhere that 5 in a million people were getting blood clots. That’s a very small amount.

Even in India, a few news reports began showing up about people suddenly becoming critically ill or passing away after getting the vaccine. But the default response was that that was a coincidence, and not a reaction caused by the vaccine. I don’t think India still has a comprehensive analysis of the health effects of the vaccines. Still, the statistics that do exist remain comforting: the risk was very, very low.

And so there I was, living in this statistically comforting zone, rolling my eyes at the anti-vaxxers, nodding along with news articles telling people to step forward and take vaccines and stop listening to people saying negative things about them, when one day, I got a message.

The father of someone I knew had passed away. Suddenly. One day after receiving the vaccine. And before you ask, yes, he had comorbidities. But no, he wasn’t sick. He was fine. But a day after receiving the vaccine, he fell seriously ill, was rushed to the hospital, and died within a few hours.

When I heard this, something within me shook very deeply. I didn’t know the father, but I knew his son, and so, suddenly, this felt very real. He might still have been one of the 5 in a million that this happened to, but suddenly, that didn’t matter. The statistics and data all lost their meaning. I didn’t care if the risk was 0.1% or 0.001% or 0.00001%. It wouldn’t have mattered if he were the only person from the entire global population whom this happened to. 

Because this person was real. He was not a distant news report. He was not a number. He was someone’s entire world. And he deserved better than me scoffing at anyone questioning the adverse effect of vaccines, and he deserved better than a government that even refuses to consider any adverse deaths as having some connection with the vaccine. 

In that moment, I realized that all the data and statistics of the world become meaningless when it's you or your loved one who is facing the brunt of those tiny figures. Even last year, when India witnessed its first wave of covid, a lot of people would comfort themselves in the knowledge that the death rate was low. But tell that to the person who lost their family to covid. What do they care if the death rate was low or high? That data point isn’t going to bring back their loved ones.

The purpose of writing this isn’t to advocate for anti-vaxxers. No, I’m still very much in favour of people (including myself and my family) getting the vaccine. Because at the end of the day, they have saved millions in the past, and might just do the same going forward.

The difference though, is that now I try to advocate for vaccines with a little bit more humility. The arrogance has faded. I’m more conscious of the risks, and I think the government should work harder at identifying those risks and educating people about the same, instead of trying to brush them under the carpet. And I hope that despite the risks, people will be willing to take that leap and go and get vaccinated, because that might be the only solution we have to fight this disease in the long run. 

But I think the one thing I won’t be able to do going forward is to see a statistic as just a statistic. Maths is clean. Life is not. A number is not just a number. It’s a life. And it might do us some good to remember that.