My regular reader (Hi Jeff!) will recall that over the years I’ve done this column, I have often reflected on the concept of rights. What rights do you truly have as an American, as a Coloradan, as a sentient being? We learned in school about the remarkable Declaration of Independence, that declared we have certain “unalienable” rights. Oh, and for the grammar historians out there, Jefferson wrote “unalienable” in the final draft, but had used “inalienable” in some earlier copies. Today, the grammar police prefer “inalienable,” but both are correct. I’m also a proud member of “Team Oxford Comma,” but I digress…

Back when I was teaching about the Constitution to my Air Force Academy cadets, I would poke at them by challenging them to tell me what rights, if any, are truly unalienable in real life. They would usually offer up free speech, and I’d counter with not being able to yell fire in a crowded theater (unless, and this is important, the theater is actually on fire, then it’s fine) and Ford can’t publish an advertisement for their new Explorer claiming to get 1000 miles per gallon. Then the cadets would propose religious freedom as absolute, and I would ask about the legality of human sacrifice in a religious service. Eventually, a smart kid would grow frustrated and state that no rights are completely unlimited in every case, which is correct.

Which, of course, brings me to the COVID vaccine…

A recent Colorado Politics story noted that some, but not all, colleges and universities in Colorado are requiring proof of COVID vaccination before a student can return to campus and attend classes. The huge University of Colorado system, including Boulder, Denver, Aurora, and Colorado Springs requires vaccination proof, as does the Colorado State system, Northern Colorado, and Metro State in Denver. Certain exceptions are allowed for legitimate reasons, but by-and-large you need the vaccine to attend these schools. The state’s community college system, however, has taken a very different tack, arguing that many of their students tend to be people attending school part-time while working or taking care of other responsibilities. As a result, these schools are not requiring vaccination to attend.

I understand both points of view, but as a pretty passionate pro-science guy, I’m firmly on team vaccine (note to self: print up “give the vaccine a shot” T-shirts, they’ll sell like hotcakes). 

So, is the question of requiring vaccination truly an infringement on your basic rights as an American? The answer depends on whether you think you have a fundamental right to go to school. Well, can a school require that you, say, wear clothing to attend classes? Can they require that you not, say, juggle chainsaws in the dorm? Yes, is the simple answer, so they can require you to not be a vector of infection for a deadly illness, though I will be surprised if a court doesn’t get sucked into addressing this question.

To help understand this issue a bit more, please let me introduce you to my big brother Stan. When he was a very little boy, in the years after WWII, he was stricken with polio. My parents were terrified. Most of the kids who shared the hospital ward with my brother did not survive that horrible virus, now prevented with a single dose of vaccine. Stan, remarkably, survived and went on to touch the lives of thousands of kids as an immensely popular and impactful high school teacher. Back then, when the polio vaccine became available, parents could stop fearing the day when their child complained of a stiff neck or trouble swallowing. Through vaccination, polio has been all but irradicated from the Earth, and that is a very good thing.

COVID, while not as deadly as polio, has killed over three million world-wide, with over a half-million of those here. And those refusing to get the vaccine – often because they value a Facebook post by some guy, or a YouTube video by that blogger as much as an actual informed expert opinion of, say, some guy named Fauci – pose a danger not just to themselves, but to those around them, especially those with impaired immune systems that simultaneously make them unable to take the vaccine themselves while also being at higher risk for getting very, very sick from the disease. A decision not to get vaccinated for what Jefferson might call “light or transient causes” is, well, selfish and cruel. You have no right to spew the virus you don’t even know you have around our lovely state. As has often been said, your right to swing your arm ends where my nose begins. You simply don’t have the right to attend school without taking the basic step of protecting yourself and – more importantly – the other people in our society.

I can’t even imagine the response if, way back in the 1950s, some people had refused to vaccinate their kids against polio. If you read about that time, you will learn that the sense of relief that swept the nation was palpable and a killer and maimer named polio was vanquished by science. One can only wonder the reaction if, back then, elementary schools had said you don’t have to have the polio vaccine to attend classes. I suspect the parents would have risen up as one to object.

I commend the schools (and workplaces) requiring the COVID vaccine. We are part of a society greater than ourselves, and we do, in fact, have responsibilities to our fellow citizens. One of those responsibilities is to not spread a killer virus when we have the means to not do so. So, please, give the vaccine a shot. If not for you, do it for that other Coloradan whose life you may well save.