Danielle Smith wants vaccine status to be a human right. Expect a petri dish of problems

There's been much said, and justifiably so, about new Premier Danielle Smith's remarks that the unvaccinated have been more discriminated against than any other group in the last half-century — a 50-year spell that's been marked by systemic racism against various groups, the rise of Islamophobia and transphobia, ongoing homophobia and anti-Semitism, continued mistreatment of Indigenous people, and on and on

She tried to clean up her remarks, but that might not mean those unsettled by what she said will forget or forgive.

Far less attention has been paid, however, to unpacking the reason she was prompted to share her thoughts on the extent of discrimination against people who've chosen not to get COVID-19 inoculations. 

One of Smith's key leadership campaign promises, which she's apparently determined to carry through, is to enshrine protections in the Alberta Human Rights Act for people based on vaccination status.

Doing so would put whether or not one chose a COVID jab on par with gender, sexual orientation, race, country of origin and religious beliefs in the province's landmark anti-discrimination law. But beyond the inherent controversy of equating vaccination with those other aspects, there are other real-life consequences at play if the Alberta legislature makes this change.

Smith's proposed move could have significant ramifications for the state of Alberta health care, well beyond this pandemic.

Because as hard as it may be for some of us, more than two years on, let's set aside COVID for a second, even if it is what motivated Smith to campaign on this move.

Vaccine mandates and rules aren't something that suddenly burst into the world in 2021, when Pfizer, Moderna and other companies devised shots to protect against the coronavirus. Such requirements have long been common for health-care workers, health sciences students and others in that realm. Requirements have remained in place for other vaccinations — Hepatitis B, measles, tetanus and other easily-preventable diseases with well-established immunization programs.

Here, for example, is the University of Alberta health faculty's form. And a job notice to be a registered nurse at Covenant Health's hospital in Camrose, citing the requirement that successful applicants have the annual influenza vaccine.

And outside of health care, Lakeland College in Vermilion has required that students in their hairstyling and esthetician programs show proof of vaccination for Hep B and measles, mumps and rubella.

In the Alberta that Smith promised United Conservatives, it wouldn't even be acceptable for bosses to ask for vaccination records. In an Aug. 31 news release, her campaign promised a policy "prohibiting employers from requiring the vaccination and other health information of Albertans."

With such pledges, Smith appealed to the minority segment of Albertans who either weren't vaccinated for COVID — that's only nine per cent of those older than 12 — or were aggrieved that they were pushed to do so, lest they face consequences at their workplace, or be limited in their ability to fly, dine in restaurants or visit long-term care homes.

But if you're establishing a human right to refuse vaccines and not face employment or consumer consequences, Smith presumably cannot design a protected class only pertaining to immunization from one disease. One assumes it would have to apply to all vaccinations.

The Alberta Human Rights Act would effectively be protecting a newly-created freedom of one group of citizens, and in so doing limiting protections against disease for the other Albertans in their midst. That is, health-care workers would be free to be unprotected against an array of other diseases as they work in hospitals.