30 July 2025

The return of measles reveals human beings at their most contradictory

Scare stories about vaccinations are more emotive than dry data.

Tanzi was worried about sunscreen: “Which ones are safe to use, and which are the ones that cause cancer?” I was pretty sure that if some sunscreens had proved to be carcinogenic, I would have heard about it. But Tanzi was certain, so I promised to do some digging.

There was a scare in 2021 when testing by an independent laboratory in the US seemed to show the presence of benzene, a known carcinogen, in certain preparations. The research led to some product recalls, but it turned out the lab had heated samples well above temperatures encountered in ordinary life, guaranteeing chemical decomposition. Conversely, there are scientifically sound studies with years of follow-up which confirm that regular sunscreen use reduces rates of skin cancer without evidence of harm.

“I think you’ve got a theoretical risk set against a definite potential benefit,” I said, when I phoned Tanzi later. One of the joys of general practice is taking opportunities for health promotion. “In any case, there’s way more benzene in cigarette smoke.” She laughed wryly. “Fair point! That’s a work-in-progress.”

I’ve been thinking about Tanzi as we see a resurgence of measles internationally. Europe and America are experiencing their highest numbers of cases for more than 25 years. In England, which hit a 12-year peak in 2024, a child recently died from measles, in Liverpool. There have been fatalities in Mexico, the US and Canada among children and young adults. Outbreaks are primarily affecting deprived areas where vaccine uptake is well below levels necessary for herd immunity. Deaths have invariably involved unvaccinated individuals.

Yet I have had conversations over the past fortnight with three sets of parents determined not to immunise their children. All have cited the same considerations. Social media or friendship groups have served up alarming stories of adverse events that appear to have followed vaccination. As I have tried gently to describe the overwhelming efficacy of immunisation at preventing disease, disability and death, the shutters have slammed down. Emotive stories are far more powerful than dry data. I have empathised with their dilemma, sharing my own quandary over MMR when my children were little (this was when the disgraced doctor Andrew Wakefield first made spurious claims about the jab, and I spent obsessive late-night hours poring over research papers before deciding to go ahead). But I am part of the medico-governmental-pharmaceutical complex. And because of my training, I am biased towards science.

Tanzi keeps coming to mind: how she could be simultaneously anxious about carcinogenic sunscreens while calming her nerves with a fag. We are fantastically contradictory beings and so many factors sway our perception of risk. Activities we’ve done daily for years become normalised. We may understand them to be potentially injurious but, subconsciously, we believe ourselves to be invulnerable – the bad stuff happens to other people. We assimilate evidence that supports our beliefs and dismiss things that run counter. Acts of commission – consenting to a vaccination – feel inherently riskier than those of omission. Measles won’t happen to our child, or if it does, surely all it will do is strengthen their immune system.

Vaccination is, alongside clean water, sanitation, adequate nutrition and good maternity care, one of the most effective things we have found as a species to enhance healthy life expectancy. Yet internationally declining immunisation rates are a study in what can weigh on our judgements. State restriction on individual liberty during the pandemic merges with coercion over Covid vaccination to feed in to experiences of oppression. Social media delivers limitless scare stories and conspiracies into our phones. And diseases that most of us have never seen feel remote and theoretical. Very regrettably, it may take many more avoidable tragedies before the realities of serious infectious diseases once more begin to hit home.

[See also: Labour’s summer of discontent]