I love board games. So when my kids were little, I wanted to get them started as young as possible. Reader, this was a mistake. The problem wasn’t that my kids didn’t enjoy the early board games I found—Chutes and Ladders™ and Candy Land™—the problem was that they loved them very, very much. Sadly, they are possibly the most stultifying adult activity ever. At least watching paint dry eventually comes to an end. Not true, as I recall, of a game of Candy Land.
Do you remember the rules of Candy Land? They’re pretty simple. Draw a card. Go where it tells you, either to the next square matching the card’s color, or to a specific place on the board—the Gumdrop Mountains, say, or the Ice Cream Floats. Those specific place cards can send you forward or backwards (one of the main reasons the game is basically interminable). There are a couple of squares that allow you to take a shortcut, and at least in the version of the game current at the time my kids were little, there were several “stick” squares that you couldn’t leave until you drew a card of a specific color. Whoever reaches the end first wins. That’s it. Perfect for a four-year-old. And, I’d argue, quite a good metaphor for a vaccine trial.
(As an exercise in clear, concise writing, you might challenge your students to write rules for Candy Land—or even an everyday activity such as making a hard-boiled egg—in the fewest possible words. Classmates can review each other’s efforts to make sure the rules are accurate and complete. This skill will prove useful for future scientists who will have to describe their work in the Materials and Methods sections of research papers. Note: “1) Begin playing 2) Throw board in air and quit” is not an acceptable description, however relatable.)
I was reminded of Candy Land by reports yesterday that one of the most advanced phase 3 coronavirus vaccine trials, by AstraZeneca, had been temporarily paused. This is the clinical trial equivalent of landing on a “stick” square during a game of Candy Land. You simply have to stop the trial until you can be sure that the adverse health event wasn’t caused by the vaccine.
Remember, while we’re desperate for a vaccine to stop the spread of coronavirus, vaccines are given to healthy people. Therefore, the vaccine must be dramatically less likely to cause harm than the disease it is designed to prevent. This is one of the reasons that phase 3 trials need to include so many participants; you need a lot of people not only to determine whether the vaccine prevents infection but also to improve your chances of detecting rare side effects.