The Earth Hearing

by Daniel Plonix

  The commissioners took stock of the hundreds of signs and banners fluttering in the breeze. The Kent banners read, “Better a felon’s cell than a poisoned babe” and “The crusade against legalized compulsory medical quackery.” The banner of Barnoldswick called for “sanitation not vaccination.” The two commissioners also noted some artistic banners, one of which showed a skeleton vaccinating an infant in his mother’s lap while a policeman gripped the woman’s hand. Carts contained mock diseased cows and proclaimed a supply of “lymph” might still be had.

  One of the commissioners read aloud the Belgian sign, “‘Neither fines nor imprisonment will prevent vaccine being a poison nor the vaccination laws an infamy.’ So they imprisoned those who refuse to vaccinate their children?”

  “Mostly the poor who could not pay the fines, Your Grace. Some children died on the heels of the vaccine. And many parents chose to go to jail rather than subject their kids to the risk. In the years and months leading to this rally, a growing number of parents opposing vaccination overwhelmed the court system in this municipality.”

  They joined the procession and ended up, along with many, seated in front of a stage where the organizers and some notable guests had gathered.

  “It gives me a very great pleasure to be here,” opened the first speaker. “Not merely because one seems to breathe a purer atmosphere here, but chiefly because in Leicester a man gets rid of the mass of sophistries with which this matter of compulsory vaccination has been overlaid. Here, at last, one comes face to face with the question in its plain, broad issues.”

  A hush fell over the town square.

  “We are not met here today to ask for any man’s toleration nor plead any man’s pity,” he stated. “We are met today to demand the birthright of free citizens!” The crowd burst in cheers and clapped.

  When the applause had died down, he continued, “It is an outrage on common sense that after all the efforts made to raise the people out of ignorance and superstition, there should be an Act of Parliament to keep their minds down on one point occupied a century ago. Vaccination is taken as established and unquestionable, and silence is its defense. When the law is repealed, we shall witness a marvelous transformation, not only in the disuse of vaccination by the people, but in its repudiation by the medical profession; for many know, as we do, that vaccination, as a defense against smallpox, is one of the most gross superstitions to afflict the human mind.” Once again, the crowd burst into applause.

  Aratta motioned to the commissioners, and the three of them made to leave.

  When they were far enough away that he didn’t have to holler, Aratta said, “In the years leading to this demonstration, the vaccination rate of newborns in Leicester declined perceptibly, and by 1891, six years from now, it will have dwindled close to zero. This was when another smallpox epidemic engulfed the United Kingdom.

  “For many, this was the moment of truth when the city and the world were to find out whether the low rate of vaccination in Leicester is to be an epidemic ‘keg powder,’ as many predicted. There was a fear Leicester would be ‘decimated.’ The epidemic was to run like ‘wildfire, unchecked.’ They were ‘in for it,’ as one medical officer confided.

  “The plague died out in 1894, the proverbial smoke cleared, and the results were in. Only 19 people per 10,000 living contracted the disease in Leicester. That compared to 63 per 10,000 in Dewsbury, 123 in Warrington, 192 in Sheffield, and on the far end of the spectrum with nil isolation and identification measures was Gloucester with 399 afflicted per 10,000 living.

  “In fact, for Leicester, full-blown smallpox epidemics were a thing of the past. When a few were infected, the town was ready for it. With the report of a case, a phone call was made, and the smallpox van hastened and picked up the infected person and rushed him to an isolated, smallpox ward. All those connected to the contaminated house were placed for two weeks in a designated, comfortable quarantined house. In the meantime, the house of the afflicted was fumigated, and the bedding was disinfected and subjected to a special hot air procedure.”

  “Was your point that reason on Earth wins the day, even if it does take a few generations?”

  Aratta shook his head. “Alas no, Your Grace. My point is quite the opposite.”

  “I don’t understand. How can you arrive at such a conclusion?”

  “Because this is not at all what came next, that is, beyond the confines of this one city, Leicester.

  “Vaccination continued unabated; the practitioners were as confident in their beliefs as ever. In New Jersey, the exit doors in a factory will be shut one April day, and hundreds of female employees will be vaccinated by force. In Lead, South Dakota, police and city physicians rounded up miners and had them vaccinated against their will.”

  Aratta stopped talking as revelers passed by, shouting and laughing, some waving small banners. He nodded and made himself smile in reply to their loud greetings and laughter.

  He regarded silently the retreating, merry figures. “All of them will be dead within a handful of decades, and with them will die the memories of this day,” Aratta said somberly. “Never again would there be a popular uprising to challenge the vaccine belief at that scale.

  “The unprecedented gathering here is incompatible with the prevailing narrative. Within a handful of decades, it will fade from living memory, along with a few hundred monographs and books that will have been published in the coming years. The wrinkles ironed out, future generations will stand firm in their faith in vaccines, armed with the knowledge that in their parents and grandparents time, a vaccine eradicated smallpox.”

  He snapped his fingers.

  San Diego, the United States, 1899

  The shaded front porch was overgrown with red roses while birds chirped nearby. They knocked and, after a moment, found themselves shaking hands with a dignified-looking old man with a long white beard and piercing eyes. “Gentlemen,” said Aratta, “this is Doctor Peebles, formerly the president of the California College of Sciences, and I believe at some point, professor at the Eclectic Medical Institute, Cincinnati.”

  “Eclectic, that’s the word,” crowed the old man in the long brown velvet gown, merriment in his eyes. “Not to mention a US consul in Turkey, renowned world traveler, and an author of over ten books,” he said with relish. He grinned, obviously enjoying the moment. “Please, please do have a seat.” Aratta arranged the brief meeting but yesterday, in Dr. Peebles’ timeline.

  They all got seated, and the doctor’s wife served them tea. Dr. Peebles took water.

  After engaging in some small talk, Dr. Peebles got down to it. “Last year, the school board here in San Diego was directed to issue a peremptory order that every pupil is required to present a certificate of vacc­ination or be excluded from further attendance.” Dr. Peebles beamed. “I held a lecture a month ago, and the consensus was that the doctors, lawyers, and merchants be vaccinated. And that the school children be spared.”

  They all shared a smile.

  “These health boards are part and parcel of the vaccinating business firm,” Dr. Peebles said. “Instead of teaching sanitation, they enforce upon the populace a discredited commercial commodity.”

  “Why is it so hard to engage people in the question of vaccines’ merits or their lack of?” inquired one of the commissioners.

  “For one, the unwillingness of people to think about it at all,” replied Peebles. “The question is said to be settled; and one recoils from an inquiry as if it were almost profane. Vaccines became one of those time-­honored practices, which courts and professions guard as a sort of heirloom of the human race. Henceforth, it is as reprehensible to neglect vaccination as to neglect baptism.”

  “What about medical schools?”

  Dr. Peebles made a dismissive gesture. “In medical schools, the benefits of vaccines are taken for granted, and no student dare question what he is taught. He ha
s to cram a vast amount of book knowledge into his brain, and he has neither the time nor the inclination to study any subject not needed for his examinations.” He sipped thoughtfully from his glass. “One of the chief problems is the press,” continued the man, smoothing his long beard. “The large newspapers are owned and managed by people who represent class interests and leading party organizations. Their existence is for the promotion of these interests. They may profess undying devotion to the common welfare, but these they invariably subordinate and, if necessary, sacrifice to corporate interests.”

  The commissioners exchanged glances. It seemed precious little had changed in the century that was to follow.

  They chatted for a few more minutes, and the three guests stood up. Dr. Peebles walked them to the door and shook hands. “I anticipate a century from now, these schemes will be regarded as a bad dream in the history of medicine. Future professors will no more desire to call attention to them than present professors do to the treatment of profuse bleeding and mercurial sore-mouth.”

  “A century from now will be the year 2000,” said Aratta diplomatically. “Well, who can see so far into the future?” He inclined his head, and the three of them were gone, then re-materialized in the real Earth. Another jump and they were back in the Commission Building.

  “When it is all said and done, what is your evaluation of the effect­iveness of the smallpox vaccine?” asked one of the commissioners after they took seats on the firm cushions.

  “Need to parse out this matter,” responded Aratta.

  “During the 1871 pandemic in the German state of Bavaria, where for decades almost everyone was vaccinated, they had 30,742 cases of smallpox, of whom 29,429 had been vaccinated. Not only every smallpox outbreak included a very large number of vaccinated people, but the percentage of those vaccinated has tracked the percentage of those who contracted the disease.

  “Put another way, it does not appear the vaccinated had lower chances of contracting the disease. Indeed, in Warrington, with a bit more than 90 percent vaccinated population, 90 percent of those contracting the disease in the 1892 epidemic had been vaccinated. Moreover, a high vaccination rate did not appear to confer any herd immunity.

  “Smallpox did not necessarily attack the unvaccinated first and from them spread to the vaccinated. In the 1870 Cologne epidemic, 173 vaccinated people contracted smallpox before the first unvaccinated one did. In the 1870 epidemic in Bonn, 42 vaccinated contracted the disease before an unvaccinated one did. And in Liegnitz in 1871, the first 224 of those infected were vaccinated.

  “Lastly, the chance of transmitting smallpox to another person is the same whether or not it expressed in a milder form in the first person. In other words, the severity of the disease in one person is not correlated to how it manifested in the person whom he contracted it from.

  “With transmission unhampered by vaccines, there is no way the vaccine could have ever been a candidate for eradicating smallpox or even for reducing the number of those infected.”

  “Did any of this cause them to question the role of the vaccine?”

  “No, Your Grace. That vaccination was the key to eradicate smallpox was axiomatic. But they did have to explain away some of those numbers. They came up with the idea that the power of immunity waned, and they talked about the need to re-vaccinate, as a testifying physician declared in front of the German Vaccination Commission of 1884. This brings us to the situation in Germany four years later.”

  Aratta snapped his fingers, and in short order, they found themselves in the dark, outside an infirmary. Through the wide windows, they could make out the silhouette of numerous people lying in beds. “This is a fever hospital in Strasburg, Germany, summer 1888,” said Aratta. “There are two thousand soldiers in this building. Each of whom recently contracted naturally-occurring smallpox. Each of whom was administered the vaccine four months prior, receiving a vaccine shot for the third time, at that.” Aratta snapped his fingers again, and, before long, they were back in the Commission Building. “The USS Jamestown had an outbreak in 1864,” he said. “Every seventh crew member contracted smallpox. Yet, the entire crew had been vaccinated two years prior.”

  He made a steeple with his fingers. “Your Graces, in all those respects the vaccine was as effective as administering snake oil, which is to say, none at all. This brings me to the point, the only point, that is of possible merit.” Aratta paused. “Were vaccinated people more likely to experience the disease in a milder form? This would be indicated by lower mortality rates among those who contracted the disease and had been previously vaccinated. As it turned out, perhaps yes.

  “Out of the combined 1,263 people over the age of 10 who contracted the disease in several cities in England during the 1892 epidemic, the rate of mortality of the vaccinated was 4 percent, while the rate of mortality of those unvaccinated was 20 percent. A fact that was never brought up by the anti-vaccine advocates—being as dogmatic as their counterparts.

  “That being said, the recorded mortality rates of the vaccinated and unvaccinated are probably skewed.

  “To be declared vaccinated was not a matter of medical records but of displaying a vaccination scar. In the worst instances, in those patients liable to die, the pocks frequently obscured it, and hospital staff classified those people as unvaccinated. That not only raised the mortality rate of those counted as unvaccinated, but at the same time lowered the reported fatalities of the vaccinated. In addition, a higher proportion of those unvaccinated had a weaker immune system and therefore were more inclined to succumb.”

  “What reason do you have for making this statement?”

  “A certain segment of the population was unvaccinated expressly owing to serious medical conditions. Moreover, a disproportionate number of indigent people—tramps and paupers—were unvaccinated and often had higher mortality rates whether because of lack of food, or ailments, and thus, either way, their health was poorer to begin with.

  “Lastly, let me make one point about the category of those under the age of ten, which I otherwise do not care to discuss due to complicating factors. Some children died on account of the vaccine itself. This further weighs the tally in favor of the unvaccinated.

  “Let history remember Edward Bedford, a 9-month-old baby who on July 1884 was vaccinated. Subsequently, his arm became a mass of sores and eruptions appeared all over his body. The child turned blind, and after 15 months of illness succumbed and died. Mary Batty, a 3-months-old baby, was vaccinated on January 1881. Subsequently, her arm was inflamed. This was followed by sickness and diarrhea, and after 7 months of suffering, Mary succumbed and died. In December 1883, Alice Drage was vaccinated. Subsequently, her face and neck were covered with sores; as these disappeared, she slowly wasted away and died 11 months later. In April 1882, Thomas Hunt was vaccinated. Subsequently, wet and green sores appeared on his arm, and he died 3 weeks later. Let history remember the countless other babies who died as a result of the vaccine.”

  “How do things stand at present with smallpox?”

  “They don’t, Your Grace. Its chain of transmission was vulnerable. The viability of the airborne virus was measured in minutes and can only be carried by saliva droplets, which are too large to be wafted a long distance. Besides, the disease was infectious only when the host manifested obvious symptoms.

  “Following the lead of Leicester, cities have quietly and gradually adopted case isolation and early notification measures—all the while paying lip service to the vaccine. The vulnerable chain of transmission of the variola virus was ruptured throughout until the microbe was in circulation no more. Thus, what could have been accomplished in the 1790s with a few years of a coordinated campaign of isolation and early notification by the governments, was executed piecemeal, commencing tragically only about a century later.

  “They never faced the truth of the matter. Not then. Not in the generations to follow.”

 
“I trust that was the end of the story with vaccines.”

  “On the contrary, Your Grace. History records the vaccine as ‘the world’s most triumphant achievement in medicine and public health.’ It eradicated smallpox. Flushed with their victory, the vaccine adherents were ready to take on and slay other diseases. The sky was the limit. The belief in vaccinism in the modern era is robust as it ever was.”

  Leeds, England, 1868

  “There is one last thing I wish to show you,” said Aratta.

  They were in a street filled with trash and refuse. On both sides of them sagged dilapidated apartment buildings. “For a period of time, this is how the poorest had been living in England,” Aratta told them. He motioned, and they walked into a narrow courtyard in between a row of houses.

  As Aratta led them through, they had to negotiate heaps of garbage and ash and then had to step through rivulets of sewage.

  The three of them did their best to ignore the rats and ascended a dim staircase infested with vermin. Finally, they entered a small room with blackened walls. It had a single broken window coated with grime stuffed with rags. The only air vent had a putrefying carcass of a cat laying on top.

  Among the seven children in the room, the oldest appeared to be about twelve. Her clothes were caked with dirt. She was sitting by a makeshift table assembling matchboxes. A finished pile laid in one of the room corners. She glanced up at them, and it seemed like nothing could astonish her.

  “Where is your mother?” asked Aratta.

  “In the madhouse.’’

  “Who looks after you?”

  “I look after my little brothers and sisters as well as I can.”

  “Is your father at work?”

  “He has been out of work three weeks, but he has gone to a job of two days this morning.”

  Aratta bid her farewell, and soon they were walking the narrow streets.

  One of the commissioners put the handkerchief back in his suit’s pocket. “It is hard to fathom that Earth people have gone from roaming the open savanna to such abominable habitats—and one human lifetime later brought about the standard of living of the modern era.”