Categories
Conflict & disaster Economics

[2937] Premature fiscal consolidation influences our vaccination strategy adversely

Our vaccination program is taking the big solution approach. Since the Covid-19 pandemic is a big challenge, it might be natural to come up with a big solution. Mega vaccination centers are a critical part of the program. Big space with hundreds if not thousands of personnel vaccinating hundreds if not thousands more individuals. Big, shinny glittering, big. It is as if Mahathir of the 1990s is back.

It has been a slow painfully slow start with some big mess made along the way, but the program is picking up steam. Vaccination pace is still below what is required but we are getting somewhere: on June 10, approximately 155,000 dosages were administered, and close to 10% of the population has received at least one dose of Covid-19 vaccines.

Behind the headline numbers, stories are appearing that people are not showing up for vaccination despite registration. The authorities at first tied the no-show to vaccine hesitancy. Earlier rationale for separating Astra-Zeneca vaccines from the main public vaccination program was based on the understanding that the public distrusted that particular vaccines. After all, AZ had bad press for some time.

After a while, that rationale is starting to become weak, especially given logistical concerns on the recipients’ side. More and more, it sounds like that particular claim was based on a misreading of incomplete data, and hasty conclusion. The kerfuffle between the Selangor state government and the federal government regarding total dosage the former received, for example, does not inspire confidence in the analytical skills of those in power in Putrajaya. Hesitancy is a big problem, but it is becoming clear that it had been used as a catch-all excuse to brush aside other big problems faced by the vaccination program.

To me, the no-show cases and the government’s preference for the big approach raise a question regarding our vaccination philosophy: are our methods primarily designed to be the easiest for the central authority to deliver the vaccines, or for individuals to get vaccinated?

The first part of the question—is the method easiest for central planners?—has the program administrators firstly in mind. If the administrators are the primary focus of the process, then having big centers is the way. This is because the big approach pools resources and rides on economies of scale. Pooling makes the vaccination program cheaper for the side managing it. Also, easier. The big approach necessarily means having few centers. And having fewer centers means the logistics becomes simpler, given all else the same: manage 3,4 or 5 big centers is significantly less complex than dealing 30, 300, or 3,000 spread across wide geography.

The second part of the question—is the method designed to be the easiest for individuals to get vaccinated?—puts potential recipients as the primary focus. It makes it easier for individuals interested in vaccinating themselves get vaccinated. Instead of having to travel from one part of the city to the another, or worse, having to travel from one part of the state to another (which is common enough), a person would be able to get his or her dose from the neighborhood clinics, hospitals, public halls or anything that could function as a vaccination center. This path is more expensive compared to other approach because it is more complex: it requires hundreds or thousands of small vaccination centers all around the country. It will involve resources being spread as widely as possible. But it is easier for potential vaccine recipients.

So, why did we choose the big approach, i.e. the method easiest for the central planners?

There might be multiple reasons behind that. I suspect one of them is related to cost consideration.

This goes back to the November 2020 when Budget 2021 was tabled in the Parliament. In that Budget, the government of the day in all its wisdom decided to embark on fiscal consolidation immediately. That policy was made based on rosy assumptions: the economy was to experience a V-shape recovery as soon as possible. Things would return to normal soonish.

That consolidation plan has gone awry. Recovery, if it could be called as such, is proceeding slower than what the government expected. When the budget was unbelievably passed despite it grave flaws in December 2020, Malaysia was still in recession. In fact as of the first quarter of 2021, the country was still in recession.

Since then, the government has been spending additional resources little by little, but not enough to solve the pandemic problem comprehensively. It has been reactive as the crisis develops, always one or two steps behind, almost ways coming short to the challenge. With available resources limited by the badly designed Budget 2021, those planning for vaccinations had to resort to the big approach: pooling resources, economies of scale, cheaper method. They had to minimize the monetary cost.

That comes at a (different) cost of course: it makes logistically hard to some individuals to get to the vaccination centers. Some is an understatement as we race toward herd immunity. The big approach contributes to the no-show cases: no-show because the big approach needs the people to go to the central planners, instead of the central planners coming to the people. All this raises the risk of Malaysia failing to achieve herd immunity as soon as possible, and letting the economy to muck around longer.

In short, the premature fiscal consolidation planned by this government had influenced our vaccination strategy adversely.

Categories
Personal

[2935] From BCG to Covid-19 vaccine

It is hard to remember it after all these years. I vaguely recall lining up along one of the corridors of my primary school building. The school had a mid-20th century architecture, with the present classrooms opened in 1964 in Kuala Lumpur. It had two symmetrical yellowish cream-colored long buildings running parallel and facing each other, with an open grass compound in the middle where little students would chase each other whenever the tropical sun was kind.

It was late morning I think, just after the 10AM recess. I may have made that up. But let us just say it was a bright sunny day because I do not remember it rained.

The school must have had 300-500 pupils aged from 7 to 12 years old. I do not know how old I was, but about a hundred were queuing up that day. My cohort was there to get our vaccination and health check-up. Was it BCG? I am unsure. Maybe.

What I remember best was the feeling I had while waiting. This line had no queue-jumper: everybody was scared. Some cried their hearts out and had to be consoled with an ice-cream cone or some candy. I did not cry despite my heart pounding, and I did not flee despite wanting to.

It did not help that the government of the day was running an anti-drugs campaign. The now-demolished old Pudu Jail had a long mural, purportedly the longest in the world along its walls for any would-be offender to see. The wall had images for drug abuses and its consequences painted in dark colors. Coloring contests were held about the evils of najis dadah. TV was telling us drugs were bad. Jangan hisap dadah. I want to hear that in Samy Vellu’s voice.

All that had the needle as a symbol of drug abuse and that symbol was strongly etched into my young mind.

On that day, I was confused. Why does my school want use a needle on me?

I was scared.

The queue had to end somewhere. It was not a wait forever. I did not look at it when the needle pierced through my skin, with a chemical concoction injected on my left arm. People told me it was like an ant bite. Either they were lying, or their ant was a huge killer-insect.

That is my memory when it come to injection. I may have grown up, but every time I have to face the needle for whatever reason, a little part of me shrinks in fear. “Please doctor, please, not the needle,” my little inner voice would shriek silently.

In this mismanaged pandemic, Malaysia is beginning to vaccinate our population seriously after a slow start. I had my first dose a week ago, and the line was a long one. My mind hovered around my old memory of vaccination and wondered if it still hurt while I was lining up.

I had several injections since that BCG vaccination. Funnily enough, I cannot recall any of them. My mind must have blotted them out. It must be traumatic.

As the line snaked into the main vaccination hall, I thought to myself, “antivax people are really antivax because they have a horrible injection experience. They have never grown out of it. ‘Never again,’ they said!”

I tried getting my mind off it by reading a book. But Hussin Mutalib’s Islam and Ethnicity in Malay Politics is not a titillating read. Interesting, but it is an academic work. Besides, it was hard to concentrate in the hall. Workers and volunteers were shouting out instruction, and people were talking to each other.

Eventually I found myself in a carrel where the vaccine would be administered. The vaccinator showed me the vaccine. There was a minor controversy just a day earlier where a person proved that he got less vaccine than he should. It should have been 0.5ml and no less.

The rumor machine went on an overdrive, suggesting somebody was purposefully giving less either to profit off it, or that supply was running out. Either way, for a program bedeviled by problems, the episode widened the trust deficit this government suffered, and this government suffers a deficit much bigger than the Najib administration.

I appreciated that the vaccinator showed me the volume, and I knew I should watch the whole procedure to ensure I got the whole 0.5ml.

But I did not.

I shut my eyes, trying not to think my BCG experience 20-30 years ago.

“All done. You’re good to go,” she said.

“Oh?”

Categories
Conflict & disaster Society

[2925] Free COVID-19 vaccines for more people, and not just Malaysians

Vaccines for COVID-19 will be made free for Malaysians, said the Prime Minister. That is good but there is an issue here. A big gap. Foreigners will have to pay for it.[1]

I am thinking the vaccines should be made free for low-income foreign workers as well. I say so because as we have seen, the strength of our community response towards COVID-19 is as good as our weakest links. And the low-income foreign worker community is part of those links. Regardless how we like to marginalize them, they are part of our Malaysian community.

In the past few weeks, we have seen Malaysia’s total cases spiking over and over again. There is no guarantee that we have seen the global peak. The worst is yet to come.

Daily new Covid-19 cases

Given the trend and the government’s actions of late, it seems they have given up the fight for containment. Instead, they are betting on the arrival of the vaccines. I feel this is the wrong position to take because while the first vaccines should arrive next year, it will not be enough to cover sufficient portion of the population until 2022 or 2023. That is a long way to go and it will necessitate prioritization of recipients.

Regardless of the need to prioritize, a good chunk of the cases involve transmission among low-income foreign workers. The government has long given a minimal damn about it, but COVID-19 is making that lackadaisical attitude a luxury even for a bunch of racists. If the foreign worker transmissions are not managed well, it could threaten to spill over to the wider population, and make the already bad situation worse. This is especially so with the government’s weakening will to fight the pandemic as seen through inconsistent and hypocritical regulations and enforcement.

To prevent the spillover risk, I think it is necessary to vaccinate low-income foreign workers working at the construction sites, plantation grounds and factory floors for free. Or at least, subsidize the cost so it is cheap enough for them to get vaccinated.

Additionally, we may need to provide free, or cheap vaccine to long-term undocumented immigrants and this will have to come with amnesty. To fight COVID-19 fast and effectively, we need to vaccinate as many persons living in Malaysia as possible, regardless of their status. I would also make it compulsory.

Hafiz Noor Shams. Some rights reserved

[1] — PUTRAJAYA (Nov 27): The Covid-19 vaccine will be given free to Malaysians but foreigners will have to pay a charge determined by the Ministry of Health, Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yassin said today. The prime minister said the government has no plan to make the vaccination compulsory and the vaccine will be administered only to those who agree to take it voluntarily, particularly people at risk and prone to disease. [Bernama. Covid-19 vaccine to be given free to Malaysians, says PM Muhyiddin. The Edge Markets. November 27 2020.]