(This episode was supposed to be sent yesterday.)
It’s Wednesday, 13 July, 2022 in Portland, Oregon and it’s only going to hit a balmy 80f / 28c today. These introductions are starting to feel like the DJs on Groundhog Day.
Here’s an example where a failure of policy combined with what looks, on the outside, to be a sclerotic delivery process and potentially some questionable choices ends up with maybe not the best outcome. Whew, what a sentence.
Okay, so last year in June, 2021, the State of California launched their Digital Vaccine record portal(sic) that was a super easy way for you to get a SMART Health Card vaccine record, which meant that it was super standards compliant and, in the spirit of sharing, the whole thing is available on Github1. It was so good that Jamie Zawinski, who runs a bar, was impressed2.
Nearly a year after after California launched their digital vaccine record website, the State of Oregon, where I live, launched theirs in April 2022. The Oregonian news-thing helpfully noted at the time as:
Oregon launches digital vaccine card; unclear how many people will use it3
and then today with an updated story, which even more helpfully is noted as:
Oregon spent $2.4 million on a COVID-19 vaccine app few are using4
The latter story is especially exciting because it leads with how much the app cost, which is on the one hand helpful but on the other hand, really not. Apparently QR codes have only been downloaded 51,000 times since late April, “costing about $48 per use”, which is technically true if you can do maths5.
Some more details pulled from the first article:
People really love the $2.4 million number! It’s certainly a number, and it’s certainly a relatively large number for a state like Oregon. But because the article is behind a paywall and I don’t subscribe to the Oregonian, I don’t know how the number was computed. There are definitely lots of ways to compute that number. The Oregon Health Authority has a 2021-2023 budget of about $30 billion, but that covers a lot.
So many thoughts!
First: it’s not an app, it’s a website. You go to the website, you plug in your name and your date of birth, provide a PIN, they try to match the record with the Oregon Health Authority, and then if it matches, you get a text or email, you enter the PIN, and then you get your SMART Health Card record as a e.g. an Apple Wallet pass, or QR code as an image or PDF you can also have emailed to you. All fine, all good. This is the tiniest nit to pick, and only kind of matters in a framing sense in the “what the public expects an app to cost”, which differs wildly but normally can start from “about $50”, but also to “what the public expects a website to cost”, which also normally starts at “around $50” thanks to the behavior of some august institutions like the nation’s ostensible paper of record.
But that’s by-the-by. The main criticism is the intersection of “this is how much the app cost” combined with “this is how many people are using it”, yielding your “$48 per use”.
Here’s the opinions:
Meanwhile, back in November 2021 (around the time the Oregon Health Authority confirmed that work had started on their vaccine passport portal), I got my digital COVID-19 record from my healthcare provider because by that time, EPIC, of the now Oracle-owned EHR juggernaut and usability nightmare, had built in support for providing SMART Health Card vaccine records, so “all” that healthcare providers using their EHR had to do was presumably the equivalent of flipping about sixteen gazillion switches to turn it on. (All in the background, of course, is all the data required to make sure you can actually look up, against the state’s public health department, vaccine records and match them)
How many times did I show my vaccine passport? Admittedly I haven’t gone out much. It’s been checked maybe three or four times in the last eight months. That’s all. I also have had the paper thing in my wallet the whole time.
So. Was it worth it? No, probably not. Was it expensive? Maybe? Not quite? $2.4 million is, in the grand scheme of things, not that expensive depending on how the number was put together. Does that $2.4 million reflect the dollar-cost per person-hour worked on the entire project from start to finish? I would expect there’d be a lot of stakeholders involved: Oregon has, for example, 36 counties, each of which would look after public health in their own way, because America loves devolving power locally and that isn’t always a bad idea. If you were asking “how much would it take Facebook to build a vaccine passport app” then I imagine the number would be way more than $2.4 million dollars, if you counted all the people and the time involved!
But you’d need to hold all of that against the factor of time. The passport portal went live in April 2022, nearly a year after California’s. All things being equal, it shouldn’t have taken as long to implement as California’s, but there’s a big asterisk there because the functioning of the portal relies a lot on having good quality data so your portal actually works and people who think they can get a passport actually get one. Who knows what their data pipes look like, whether they’re shiny and new or encrusted and gunky. (I suspect, without any value judgment as to why, that they’re probably more towards the latter, if only because in general such data quality and exchange tends to be underinvested)
At the end of it all, by April this year, people were kind of over it. People were kind of over COVID at Thanksgiving in 2021, they were definitely over it over December/January 2021/2022 because there was that godawful spike and right now, people are seriously over it because the US doesn’t even want you to test before you enter the country because really, what does it matter anymore? We’re post-COVID in that we’ve not recovered, we’re now chronic. It’s here, so life is back to normal.
So. If you add the lack of requirement for a passport, which is a policy decision, to the sheer amount of time taken to deliver the “solution” then no, it wasn’t worth it. When should it have been killed? Probably when policy decided nobody would have to prove vaccine status in a verifiable way. Would it have been worth it to spend money on some other form of public health? Probably. Would that have been worth it, given the overall political environment and engagement, especially at the Federal level? Who knows! I’m not a public health expert, I’m just a guy in a chair who’s been unadvisedly been given a keyboard and an unmoderated TCP/IP connection!
So, to recap:
Okay, that’s it! How are you doing? I love it when I get notes and do my best to reply to every single one, even when they are just “hi”, in which case: hi!
Best,
Dan
Releasing our Digital Vaccine Record code on GitHub, and the California Digital COVID-19 Vaccine Record UI, API, and QR code generation repositories. ↩
Wherein we are now vaccinated-only, 1 August, 2021 and Quietly and over some objections, a national digital vaccine card has emerged, January, 2022, both jwz ↩
Oregon launches digital vaccine card; unclear how many people will use it, Fedor Zarkhin, April 27, 2022 ↩
Oregon spent $2.4 million on a COVID-19 vaccine app few are using, Fedor Zarkhin, July 13, 2022 ↩
“Oregon spent $2.4 million on an app to let people display their vaccine cards digitally with a QR code. QR codes have been downloaded 51,000 times since late April, costing about $48 per use.”, Brad Schmidt, watchdog and data editor at the Oregonian on Twitter ↩