Take University of Richmond philosopher Jessica Flanigan’s comparison between vaccine refuseniks and a person firing a weapon into the air. We’d want to stop the shooter because bystanders could get hurt or killed. The same, she argues, applies to vaccinations. It’s less about the right to refuse than the right not to get infected — especially for those who can’t be vaccinated, like tiny babies, the immunocompromised or those with severe allergies.That doesn’t have to mean compulsion, but it can. Over a century ago, the U.S. Supreme Court supported a Massachusetts law that allowed cities to require residents be vaccinated against smallpox. The community, at least at a local if not necessarily federal level, can defend itself. Another persuasive argument for moving up the public health ladder is made by Alberto Giubilini, at Oxford University, who says vaccines are like taxes. Protection from a disease like COVID-19 is a collective benefit that creates obligations the state can extract from us. None of us have the right to be free riders. Like taxes, vaccines entail a relatively small cost, prevent harm, and are, roughly, a fair way of distributing the burden of a communal responsibility. It’s not a perfect analogy — vaccines involve our bodies, not simply cash — but the equity aspect is compelling. This of course means obligations for the state. For shots to be mandatory, they must be free and easily accessible. People may have to be given a choice of vaccine, and even most wealthy countries would take a while to get there. Crucially, governments would need adequate compensation programs to cover unforeseen adverse reactions, and many don’t have them.