The Empty Freezers
On vaccines, preparedness, and what security is worth before we need it
From the grounds of the vaccine manufacturer Biovac in Cape Town, its director, Morena Makhoana, can see Table Mountain. When the stress becomes overwhelming and he does not know what to do, he looks up at the mountain. It helps him regain a little calm.
This is how Jon Cohen opens his report, “Africa’s effort to make most of its own vaccines by 2040 faces significant headwinds”, published in Science on October 1, 2026. It explores efforts to establish vaccine manufacturing in Africa and the difficulties of making those efforts financially sustainable.
Nearby stands a facility filled with specialised freezers. Biovac had reached an agreement with Pfizer and BioNTech to receive COVID-19 vaccine in bulk and fill it into vials in South Africa. The freezers would hold up to twenty million doses. The agreement promised a dedicated supply for the African continent.
But finalising the agreement and preparing for production took time. By the time the first doses were available towards the end of 2022, demand had fallen away. According to Makhoana, Biovac never sold a single dose of this vaccine.
I pause over these freezers. During the pandemic, African countries had experienced what it meant to stand far back in the queue. Wealthy countries secured vaccines first. The decision to build local capacity grew out of that experience. Next time, more people would be protected in time.
By the time the capacity was ready, the market had changed.
Between Two Crises
Preparedness has a particular relationship with time. It must be developed before the event that justifies it. Once the event arrives, it may already be too late.
Consider a hospital that wants to be able to receive many patients following a major accident. A few empty beds are insufficient. There must also be staff who can be called in, equipment that works, and a plan for cooperation between departments. A bed becomes part of preparedness only when arrangements make it possible to treat a person in it.
I think something similar applies to a vaccine factory. Spare production capacity has value when there is expertise, maintenance, access to raw materials, and agreements that allow it to be put to use. Without these connections, the building may remain as a monument to an ambition.
This also suggests a possible criterion for distinguishing preparedness from failed planning: Can the capacity actually be activated when the need arises, and is there a credible plan for sustaining it until then?
Cohen’s report shows how difficult this is. Vaccine facilities cost substantial sums to maintain, even when they are not producing anything. They need income between pandemics. Employees need opportunities to use their knowledge, and equipment must be kept in working order.
We therefore cannot assess preparedness solely by looking at what was built during the crisis. We must also examine what makes it possible to continue afterwards.
The Cheapest Vaccine
It would be easy to argue that African governments should buy vaccines from their own manufacturers. The report gives us a concrete reason to hesitate.
Cohen describes how, in 2023, South African authorities chose an imported pneumococcal vaccine at approximately one-third of the price of the alternative Biovac supplied through its partnership with Pfizer. Biovac subsequently had to lay off 85 of its 450 employees.
For the authorities, the lower price could free up money for other health needs. A child who needs a vaccine today cannot wait for a local industry to become competitive.
At the same time, the redundancies show that the purchasing decision affected the country’s capacity. My concern is what repeated decisions of this kind might do over time. If expertise and production disappear, dependence on foreign suppliers may become harder to overcome.
Two responsibilities meet here. Governments must protect people who need help now. They must also prepare for needs that have not yet arisen. Both tasks concern life and health, even though only one is visible in today’s demand.
Aristotle called practical wisdom phronesis. It involves judging what a situation requires when several considerations must be held together. In this case, decision-makers must see both the child who can be vaccinated within today’s budget and the population that may be left without supplies during the next crisis.
Practical wisdom gives us no formula for how much more a locally produced vaccine should be allowed to cost. It does, however, require us to examine the possible consequences of the choice. The cheapest option may be the right one. But the price alone cannot tell us that.
The Capacity to Act for Oneself
The goal of producing 60 per cent of the vaccines Africa needs by 2040 is explicitly stated in the report. It was established as part of the Partnerships for African Vaccine Manufacturing initiative, launched by the African Union and Africa CDC in 2021.
It is an ambitious goal. Reaching it requires more than factories.
Filling an imported vaccine into vials creates jobs and experience. But if supplies of the vaccine itself stop, this production also stops. Greater independence requires more stages of the work to be carried out locally, from research and development to manufacturing and quality control.
Cohen describes Afrigen Biologics and Vaccines, a small South African company that has developed expertise in mRNA vaccines. Through a programme supported by the World Health Organization and the Medicines Patent Pool, the company has trained specialists from several low- and middle-income countries. At the same time, Afrigen faces a serious financial crisis and is attempting to reorganise as a nonprofit.
For me, this shows how vulnerable the development of knowledge can be. The expertise exists, but the conditions for sustaining it are uncertain.
I think something important may be lost if such a community of specialists breaks apart. Knowledge also lives in cooperation between people, in the experiences they share, and in the skills they develop through repeated practice. New funding can buy equipment. Rebuilding a community that knows how to use it may take far longer.
Independence therefore also depends on universities, education, and opportunities to remain in a field of work. Those who must always wait for others to develop a solution have limited influence over which needs that solution will address.
A Responsibility That Endures
For Løgstrup, the ethical demand arises from the fact that, in our encounter with another person, we hold something of that person’s life in our hands. The other is vulnerable to what we do and to what we leave undone.
I want to extend this thought to the institutional dependencies described in the report. Someone waiting for a vaccine may never meet the purchasing officer, director, or politician who determines whether it becomes available. Yet distance does not remove the dependency. The decision reaches into a person’s life, even when that person is absent from the room where it is made.
Here, Løgstrup and Aristotle can help us understand different aspects of the same task. Løgstrup reminds us whose life the decision affects. Aristotle requires us to consider how this responsibility can be fulfilled under the actual conditions: limited budgets, uncertain demand, and the need to preserve expertise.
Care must therefore take practical form. It may be expressed through long-term purchasing agreements, reliable payments, and cooperation on education. Such arrangements may seem remote from an encounter between people. Yet they can determine whether help is available when someone needs it.
The pandemic created a willingness to act. But the work of establishing sustainable vaccine production lasts far longer than the attention surrounding a crisis. It is during these intervening years that promises are tested.
The freezers in Cape Town remain after a promise that Africa would have a more secure vaccine supply. For me, they raise a question that concerns us too: What must we keep going during the quiet years so that fewer people have to wait next time?
References
Aristotle. (2009). The Nicomachean ethics (D. Ross, Trans.; L. Brown, Ed.). Oxford University Press.
Cohen, J. (2026, October 1). Africa’s effort to make most of its own vaccines by 2040 faces significant headwinds. Science. https://www.science.org/content/article/africa-s-effort-make-most-its-own-vaccines-2040-faces-significant-headwinds
Løgstrup, K. E. (1956). Den etiske fordring [The ethical demand]. Gyldendal.
This essay was written in a conversation with Claude/Anthropic and OpenAI/ChatGPT