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International Cooperation Failures in the Face of the COVID-19 Pandemic: Learning from Past Efforts to Address Common Threats

4.鈥俆he Challenges Revealed by COVID-19

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Authors
Jennifer M. Welsh
Project
Rethinking the Humanitarian Health Response to Violent Conflict

Given that the current pandemic was not鈥攁s anticipated鈥攁 strain of influenza but rather COVID-19, the WHA鈥檚 Pandemic Influenza Preparedness Framework proved inapplicable. Scientific communities nonetheless moved quickly to share data and genetic sequences, and pharmaceutical companies began to develop vaccines, thereby illustrating the power of transnational collaboration below the state level.53 The speed and range (involving multiple nationalities) of those working to develop vaccines were both impressive and unprecedented. Much of this effort took place without formal state-to-state coordination, either bilaterally or in international organizations.

Many states in the early phase of the pandemic rushed unilaterally to secure scarce resources鈥攊ncluding personal protective equipment and key ingredients for virus testing. Much of their behavior challenged the view that global heath security is a public good鈥攑articularly the premise of equal vulnerability to pandemics. Instead, some states behaved in ways that suggest health security is seen as a private good鈥攖hrough their efforts to seal borders and keep the virus 鈥渙ut鈥 and secure vaccines for their own populations. One lesson that seemed to be emerging from COVID-19 was that this nationalistic strategy could work if executed quickly and comprehensively鈥攖hough at high economic cost and of uncertain duration.54 For other countries, the prime lesson drawn as the pandemic wore on was the need to invest in national vaccine manufacturing capacity鈥攐r to devise reliable contracts with world-class producers鈥攁nd to make supply chains for essential medical and health products less vulnerable to external dynamics.

In sum, state behavior fell far short of what the academic literature identifies as core requirements for effective action on transnational threats such as infectious disease: far-sighted collaboration that aims for long-term solutions to shared threats, a degree of deference to experts with specialized knowledge, and multilateral cooperation through international institutions.55 Instead, we saw the prioritization of short-term, narrow interests and a range of reactions to scientific advice鈥攊ncluding, at the furthest end of the spectrum, defiant rejection of effective countermeasures. At the WHO, we saw not only the consequences of patchy compliance with the IHR (2005) but also vocal critique鈥攊n some cases verging on scapegoating鈥攐f the organization鈥檚 response to the COVID-19 crisis.
 



 

4.1鈥俆he Governance of Pandemic Preparedness and Response

Despite the reforms that had been made to improve pandemic preparedness and response in previous decades, some key deficiencies in the WHO-led regime complex for global health security remained, and these hampered the chances for a timely and effective response to COVID-19.

To begin, it was already well known that far too few countries had the 鈥渃ore capacities鈥 identified under the IHR (2005) and that sufficient political and financial commitment was lacking to fully implement the IHR provisions. However, lack of compliance with the IHR鈥檚 core capacities was not necessarily the primary factor in the Wuhan disease outbreak transforming into a pandemic. What was more striking was that many of the first and most high-profile countries to be affected by COVID-19 were so-called high-capability states (including China, South Korea, Taiwan, Italy, the United Kingdom, and the United States), only some of which responded effectively in the early phases. This suggests that the metrics used to assess pandemic preparedness, as well as the existing system of national self-assessment and reporting, were presenting a distorted picture.

COVID-19 also highlighted the limits of what the WHO, created and financed by states, can do when confronted with a global pandemic. While it does have processes and procedures for information gathering, its resources and operational capacity were never designed for a comprehensive system of global surveillance that would extend to the high-income and high-capability countries that were part of the initial epicenter of the outbreak. Still鈥攁nd contrary to some criticisms of the organization56鈥攖he WHO did act rapidly after it first received information (from a nongovernmental source) about the Wuhan outbreak. But rapid action in the face of an emerging pandemic is not always effective action. In the case of the WHO, its initial guidance on travel measures and masks turned out to be incorrect advice for the COVID-19 pathogen. The WHO exercised the authority it had to issue temporary recommendations but did so in ways that later required it to reverse its advice鈥攖hus damaging its credibility.

A more consequential limitation of the WHO underscored by this pandemic concerns its intergovernmental character: it is susceptible to political pressures from states that are wary of facing external scrutiny and potential stigmatization, which can in turn affect how the WHO executes its powers. Academic research on international institutions has long been preoccupied with the challenge of making such institutions accountable to the member states that create them, while simultaneously insulating them from parochial political attempts to steer or reverse their activities.57 COVID-19 demonstrated that, although the 2005 reforms to the IHR gave the director-general authority to signal that a member state was not cooperating effectively, or to declare a PHEIC over a state鈥檚 objections, the exercise of that discretionary authority ultimately depends upon the individual occupying this role.

From December 2020 to March 2021, the WHA鈥檚 independent panel identified specific aspects of the WHO鈥檚 performance that relate, in part, to these long-standing issues. Panel members criticized the WHO鈥檚 delay in convening its Emergency Committee, declaring a PHEIC, and issuing warnings about human-to-human transmission of the virus.58 The latter problem stemmed in large part from China鈥檚 delay in releasing the data it had about human-to-human transmission鈥攚hich occurred in the same period that key WHO officials were publicly commending China鈥檚 efforts.59 In light of its assessment, the independent panel set out a series of recommendations designed to stabilize the organization鈥檚 funding, enhance its power and independence, and improve the quality, timing, and clarity of its technical advice. A critical part of any discussion of how to reform the WHO鈥檚 approach to pandemic preparedness and response, however, is to distinguish those weaknesses that are actually inherent to the IHR from those that stem from the particular choices of individuals or the specific reactions to political pressures.

The key changes advocated by the independent panel include a dramatic increase in member states鈥 assessed contributions to the WHO鈥檚 budget; a single, seven-year term for the WHO director-general (to provide a longer mandate but to avoid the political dynamics of reelection); greater professionalization of recruitment processes for senior-level WHO staff (with the aim of depoliticizing hiring); strengthened governance capacity in the WHO鈥檚 executive board, including through a Standing Committee for Emergencies; and鈥攑erhaps most controversial for member states鈥攑owers of independent investigation.60 While the report of the panel underlined the need for the WHO to remain central to global health governance as the lead coordinating organization鈥攁 conclusion echoed by the expert panel advising the G2061鈥攊t also insisted that the organization could not fulfill all of the functions needed to avert another pandemic.

The convening of the WHA in May 2021 fell short of reaching agreement on the reforms to global health security governance advocated by the panel. Most notably, it did not take steps to strengthen the WHO鈥檚 authority; instead, member states established a working group to discuss various aspects of WHO reform. The WHA also did not agree to changes in the organization鈥檚 funding base鈥攎ember states approved the WHO鈥檚 budget for 2022鈥2023 but did not agree to increase assessed or mandatory state contributions, with all increases in the budget to be funded by voluntary contributions. Hopes that the Biden administration鈥檚 more positive engagement with the WHO would lead to meaningful institutional reforms were also dashed, as the United States (with Russia) put the brakes on European calls for the WHA to authorize immediate negotiations on a pandemic treaty. Key U.S. officials have advocated for particular amendments to the IHR that have been discussed over the years鈥攕uch as a system of graded health alerts prior to the determination of a PHEIC, reforms to the composition of the WHO鈥檚 Emergency Committee to improve upon its guidance, and an IHR compliance committee or review conference to convene member states on pressing issues.62 But they have thus far refrained from publicly supporting either an enhancement of the powers of the WHO or an increase in assessed contributions.63 In addition, geopolitical rivalry overshadowed discussions in and around the WHA in May 2021, as the U.S. president tasked his intelligence community to investigate the origins of the COVID-19 virus and then asked the WHO to conduct its own 鈥渟cience-based鈥 study鈥攁 request that China quickly rebuffed.
 


 

4.2鈥俈accine Review, Access, and Distribution

One area where collective action did emerge was in vaccine development, review, and distribution. Several regulatory authorities鈥攊ncluding the European Union (EU) European Medicines Agency, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration, and Health Canada鈥攁ctively collaborated by sharing data and information during their reviews of COVID-19 vaccines. This form of cooperation helped to speed up the regulatory process, including the WHO鈥檚 Emergency Use Listing, while ensuring that standards for the safety and efficacy of health products were met.

The second example of active collaboration was the launch, in April 2020, of the Access to COVID-19 Tools (ACT) Accelerator. Hosted by the WHO, this mechanism convened scientists, governments, businesses, civil society, philanthropists, and global health organizations to accelerate the development of tests, treatments, and vaccines and to ensure their equal distribution. The vaccine pillar of the ACT Accelerator, COVAX,64 was designed to function as a central procurement mechanism for all countries, wherein wealthier countries would buy into the scheme and their funding would finance COVID-19 vaccines for low-income countries. COVAX was thus intended to operationalize the idea of global solidarity by ensuring that all countries, including low- and middle-income ones, would receive a share in the vaccines that the scheme purchased. In addition, the COVAX strategy was meant to advance purchase commitments in ways that would assist pharmaceutical companies in developing and producing effective vaccines.

Despite the promise of this initiative, as of early December 2021, COVAX has distributed only 617 million doses of COVID-19 vaccines to 144 participating countries鈥攍ess than half of its stated goal of 1.4 billion doses by the end of 2021.65 In addition, by the end of 2021, when 70.4 percent of residents in high-income countries and 72.5 percent of residents in upper-middle-income countries had completed the initial COVID-19 vaccination protocol, just 3.99 percent of those in low-income countries were fully vaccinated.66 Of the doses that were sent to low-income countries, there have been continued challenges in administering the available vaccines, with thousands of doses remaining undelivered and at risk of spoilage. Despite high-level gatherings of state officials鈥攊ncluding at the Global Health Summit of the G20 and the WHA鈥攖he stubborn problem of inequitable vaccine access, which featured in earlier pandemics, remains unaddressed. Furthermore, and notwithstanding the calls to share the financial burden of fighting the pandemic, only half of the needed resources for the ACT Accelerator have been pledged.67

The prospect of a continuing shortfall prompted the G20, through its own expert panel report, to call on the world鈥檚 international financial institutions to include the financing of global public goods, such as global health security, as part of their core mandates.68 This would include an additional U.S.$15 billion per year, over the next five years, for pandemic preparedness and response, based on predetermined contributions distributed between the WHO and a new Global Health Threats Fund. The International Monetary Fund has already developed an ambitious and detailed $50 billion plan to 鈥渧accinate the world鈥 and accelerate economic recovery鈥攐bjectives it insists go hand in hand.69 The Global COVID-19 Summit, convened by U.S. President Joe Biden in September 2021, attempted to galvanize support for these objectives by encouraging purchases or donations of additional vaccine doses (including through COVAX); committing to expedite the delivery of the two billion doses already promised; and calling for additional funding to ensure that low- and middle-income countries have the capacity to administer doses over the coming months.70

A broader phenomenon of 鈥渧accine nationalism,鈥 however, underlies the remaining gap between the aspirations of schemes like COVAX and what has actually been achieved. From the earliest months of the pandemic, states with the resources to produce or buy successful vaccines secured privileged access and/or manufacturing capacity.71 This included leading democracies such as the United States, United Kingdom, and EU countries, as well as countries that drew upon the doses within COVAX well before most developing countries had even begun their vaccination programs.

Finally, geopolitical competition, rather than a global public goods perspective, also continued to shape access to vaccines as the pandemic unfolded. China adroitly stepped into the global vaccine access crisis by both selling and donating vaccines in ways that advanced its foreign policy interests, with doses going primarily to states participating in its Belt and Road Initiative. But China has also taken pains to demonstrate its concern for vaccine equity, with President Xi Jinping reiterating at the latest meeting of the UN General Assembly his country鈥檚 promise to make two billion doses available globally by the end of 2021.

Notwithstanding the lingering questions about the safety and efficacy of China鈥檚 vaccine, which have limited the impact of its 鈥渧accine diplomacy,鈥 the perception that Beijing might be gaining a strategic advantage has motivated responses from other states with interests in the region, such as India and Russia, which have donated doses to Asian countries.72 Worries about China and Russia gaining a 鈥渇irst mover鈥 advantage in assisting strategically important countries also led the United States to engage in its own form of vaccine diplomacy鈥攖hrough the vaccine initiative launched by the Quadrilateral Security Dialogue in March 2021 and the decisions reached on vaccine sharing at the June 2021 G7. At the COVID-19 summit he convened in the autumn of 2021, President Biden coupled his pledge for an additional 500 million Pfizer doses with the claim that the United States was now the world鈥檚 鈥渁rsenal of vaccines,鈥 thereby invoking his country鈥檚 vocation in World War II and revealing the political motives underpinning its global health policy.

But while Washington鈥檚 narrative stresses how the United States is leading the charge to address inequities in treatments and vaccines, global health advocates maintain that the pledges of the United States and other high-income democracies remain inadequate.73 Overall, the pattern of states鈥 vaccine donations, which do not map onto countries with the greatest COVID-19 case burden or largest populations, suggests that geopolitical dynamics are a prime driver of continuing inequities in vaccine access.74

Endnotes

  • 53This 鈥渂elow the state鈥 cooperation was of various kinds, including collaboration among scientists (through CEPI), among different pharmaceutical companies (Pfizer working alongside BioNTech), and between scientific communities and private companies (AstraZeneca collaborating with the University of Oxford).
  • 54Thanks to Mara Pillinger for sharing this perspective.
  • 55For a summary of these requirements and how states failed to meet them during the current pandemic, see Tana Johnson, 鈥,鈥 International Organization 74 (S1) (2020): E148鈥揈168.
  • 56IPPPR, COVID-19, 25.
  • 57See Tana Johnson, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014); and Barbara Koremenos, Charles Lipson, and Duncan Snidal, 鈥,鈥 International Organization 55 (4) (2001): 761鈥799.
  • 58IPPPR, COVID-19, 25.
  • 59Investigative reporting suggests that WHO staff were privately concerned about China鈥檚 willingness to share information about human-to-human transmission but that the organization鈥檚 strategy was to publicly applaud China鈥檚 efforts in order to encourage its government to share further data. See Associated Press, 鈥AP News, June 2, 2020. Some argue that this early period of the pandemic stands as evidence that the WHO had become overly deferential to some governments and that its assessments were providing states with 鈥減olitical cover鈥 to continue to act without full transparency. See Alvarez, 鈥淭he WHO in the Age of the Coronavirus,鈥 579鈥580.
  • 60IPPPR, COVID-19, 48鈥49.
  • 61See the governance reforms outlined in G20 High Level Independent Panel, A Global Deal for Our Pandemic Age, 42鈥55.
  • 62Anthony J. Blinken and Xavier Becerra, 鈥,鈥 JAMA 326 (13) (October 2021): 1255鈥1256.
  • 63David P. Fidler, 鈥,鈥 Think Global Health, June 3, 2021.
  • 64COVAX operates under the leadership of GAVI, the Coalition for Epidemic Preparedness, and the WHO.
  • 65, UNICEF Supply Division.
  • 66COVID-19 Data Explorer, 鈥,鈥 Our World in Data, accessed April 14, 2022. In addition, counting all vaccine doses individually, 168.7 doses per 100 people were administered in high-income countries and 168.6 doses per 100 people were administered in upper-middle-income countries, compared with just 11.2 doses administered per 100 people in low-income countries, as of the end of December 2021.  See COVID-19 Data Explorer, 鈥,鈥 accessed April 14, 2022.
  • 67As of late October 2021, governments, private-sector organizations, philanthropists, and multilateral contributors had pledged $18.9 billion, against the projected needs of $38.1 billion. These pledges, considering retrospective costs adjustments, bring the 2020鈥2021 budget鈥檚 funding gap to $14.3 billion. See the funding tracker at 鈥,鈥 World Health Organization, last updated January 7, 2022.
  • 68See G20 High Level Independent Panel, A Global Deal for Our Pandemic Age, 8鈥9.
  • 69The International Monetary Fund鈥檚 strategy includes bold targets for vaccination (60 percent of the world鈥檚 population vaccinated by early 2022) and a ramp-up of vaccine deployment; a boost to test-and-trace capacity, as well as to therapeutic and public health measures; and insurance against the risks of new variants (through the sharing of technology and know-how and investment in vaccine production). See Ruchir Agarwal and Gita Gopinath, , Staff Discussion Notes No. 2021/004 (Washington, D.C.: International Monetary Fund, May 2021).
  • 70For a summary of the targets set at the summit, see 鈥,鈥 The White House, September 22, 2021.
  • 71Thomas J. Bollyky and Chad P. Brown, 鈥,鈥 Foreign Affairs (September/October 2020).
  • 72Samantha Kiernan, Serena Tohme, Kailey Shanks, and Basia Rosenbaum, 鈥溾 Think Global Health, June 4, 2021. In addition to illustrating how China鈥檚 鈥渧accine diplomacy鈥 reinforces the Belt and Road Initiative, these authors demonstrate that China鈥檚 donations have mapped onto its objectives for securing support for its policies in Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Xinjiang.
  • 73David P. Fidler, 鈥,鈥 Think Global Health, September 25, 2021.
  • 74David P. Fidler, 鈥,鈥 East Asia Forum, April 13, 2021.