Ugandan participants in a clinical safety study received an Oxford developed Ebola vaccine this week. 

Researchers vaccinated the first participants on 6th October in Masaka, Uganda. The phase follows the launch of a first-in-human Phase I trial in the UK evaluating the same vaccine candidate. 

They received the vaccine as part of an evaluation of the safety and efficacy of a ChAdOx-based Bundibugyo Ebola vaccine candidate developed by the Oxford Vaccine Group (OVG) and the Pandemic Sciences Institute at the University of Oxford. 

Development for this vaccine began in May this year in response to the ongoing Ebola outbreak in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC). The research, led by OVG’s Professor Teresa Lambe and Professor Simon Drysdale, is funded by the Coalition for Epidemic Preparedness Innovations (CEPI). No licenced vaccine for the Bundibugyo strain of Ebola virus currently exists. 

In a statement to Cherwell, OVG said its involvement includes collaborating with the Ugandan research team to support “the study’s scientific design, clinical trial coordination, safety oversight, and evaluation of vaccine safety and immunogenicity”. The Phase I clinical trial addresses a rare strain of Ebola virus affecting communities in the DRC since May. The phase is a collaboration between the Medical Research Council/ Uganda Virus Research Institute and the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine (LSHTM). 

Dr Nicole Lurie, CEPI’s Executive Director for Emergency Preparedness and Response, told Cherwell: “It [the Bundibugyo outbreak] remains the fastest-growing and second-largest Ebola outbreak ever recorded – and we currently remain without a licensed vaccine or treatment.” The Bundibugyo Ebola epidemic in the DRC has surpassed 8,600 cases, with almost half of infections proving fatal. 

The outbreak was declared a Public Health Emergency of International Concern (PHEIC) by the World Health Organisation (WHO) in May. 

OVG told Cherwell: “For more than a decade, the University of Oxford has performed many clinical trials of candidate viral-vectored vaccines. Some of the most promising vaccines used a modified chimpanzee adenovirus, a harmless version of a common cold virus. The Oxford-AstraZeneca (ChAdOx1) COVID-19 vaccine was approved for emergency use in the UK in December 2020 and was estimated to have saved six million lives during 2021 alone, and over 3 billion doses were used worldwide.” The adenovirus vector vaccine technology trialled in this study was successfully used worldwide as part of the Oxford-AstraZeneca COVID-19 vaccine. 

More funding is necessary to ensure the development and approval of the Ebola vaccine. Lurie told Cherwell: “Without sufficient additional funding, we are at risk of not being able to develop these promising vaccine candidates… CEPI urgently needs US$128M now to keep our Bundibugyo emergency R&D response moving. Without it, we are putting the DRC, and the world, at tremendous risk.”

Spoilers Ahead!!

East of Eden is a special book in many ways. It is beautiful, for one, and loving too. John Steinbeck dedicated it to his editor and long-term friend Pascal ‘Pat’ Covici. In the preface, he describes East of Eden as though it were a box, a wrapped gift; for his dear friend, the author has packaged “the pleasure of design and some despair and the indescribable joy of creation”, there is also “on top of these” “the love I have for you”. Above that “gratitude and love,” trapped with all the “joy” and “despair,” is the empty space of human potential: “Still the box is not full.” 

Steinbeck was born in 1902 in Salinas; thus, an unmistakable personal nostalgia colours the voice of the semi-autobiographical narrator. “I remember my childhood names for grasses and flowers,” he begins on the first page, “I remember where a toad might live and what time the birds awaken in the summer”. Throughout, despite, or perhaps because of, the various horrors the author explores, he always makes time for nature. In chapter eight we meet Cathy, one of those “monsters born in the world to human parents”. Amongst the schemes of her girlhood, Steinbeck remembers to mention “the young grass” that “bristled under the sun” and “the yellow dandelions”. In part, I think the explosion in East of Eden’s popularity is due to Steinbeck’s affection for Salinas Valley. The compulsiveness of his characters is present, as always, so is his ability to render any landscape powerful, visceral in prose. But there is something, ironically, lapsarian about East of Eden: it is a relic of the author’s own childhood. 

Everyone enjoys beauty; a beautiful book, written in a determinedly readable style, is bound to become popular, not to mention the endless power of nostalgia. But there is something else in East of Eden, I believe, that has catapulted it from the fame of every book-tok influencer’s favourite lists to a multi-million dollar Netflix show. I read the book in 2023, perhaps a little ahead of the curve – if that’s possible for a book published in 1925. Since then, I have recommended East of Eden to everyone who asks. But, I would not say it is my favourite book; it might not be in my top five. Rather, I recommend East of Eden in the same way a film buff recommends Good Will Hunting.

It’s feel-good; it’s the ultimate feel-good book because it tells you that your life is your choice. Be good, be bad, be a little bit the one and a little bit the other: just don’t imagine for a second that it is not under your control to be so. The message emerges slowly over the first few hundred pages, but arrives suddenly at the forefront in chapter 24, through the voice of Lee, a Chinese man who cares for Adam Trask’s boys when both father and mother have abandoned them. Adam Trask, of course, embodies his biblical namesake as husband to the ‘monster’ Cathy, and father to the Cain/Abel parallel, Cal and Aran. 

Lee describes the arduous process of translating Hebrew with four elderly Chinese gentlemen who live in San Francisco, smoking opium and solving whatever problems people bring them. After two years, he and the four elderly gentlemen can translate the passage – thus resolving a discrepancy in English translations of the Bible. “The American version orders men to triumph over sin… The King James translation makes a promise… But the Hebrew word, the word timshel – ‘thou mayest’ – that gives a choice,” Lee concludes, “It might be the most important word in the world”. Regardless of whether or not Steinbeck’s Hebrew translation is correct, which it likely isn’t, he’s right that ‘may’ is the most important word in the world: it is the belief in choice, the hope at the bottom of the jar, the empty space in the box that is “still not full”.

If it weren’t couched in the natural beauty of Salinas Valley, or the fascinating moral drama of the Trask and Hamilton families, Steinbeck’s message wouldn’t work so well. That said, the message is central to the book. Whilst other authors of his period reach for obscurity, designing their work to be a puzzle, a dream that requires clever interpretation, Steinbeck teaches a lesson. He delivers an earnest sermon. East of Eden is didactic; it is a fantastic book, it has beautiful language and compelling characters, but it is ultimately didactic. People enjoy reading it because it gives them a sense of control: Netflix could gamble millions on its popularity because they knew it was something that made people feel good about themselves, something they would want to watch on the screen.

East of Eden is a book like Pandora’s Box. It is well crafted, beautiful to look at. Inside, the author examines what he sees as the fringes of humanity, our best and worst parts: “Pain and excitement are in it, and feeling good or bad and evil thoughts and good thoughts.” When all this has been discarded, when we think the box is nearly empty and the indomitable Trask lies dying, Steinbeck presents us with the final gift. It is the word timshel, the choice to be good or bad in our lives: hope.

Vice-Chancellor Professor Irene Tracey opened the new academic year on Wednesday, 7th October, with the annual Oration at the Sheldonian Theatre. 

The Oration allows the Vice-Chancellor to define the priorities of the University’s highest office and reflect upon the past year at the University. This year, these include AI ethics, bridging the gap between “town and gown”, and the increasing importance of scientific innovation for the University. 

The Vice-Chancellor commented on the University’s influential role in shaping the AI landscape, both through technical research and noting work on AI governance from the newly launched Oxford Institute of Technology and Justice. Tracey referenced the university-wide rollout of ChatGPT-5 last year, while stressing the need for places where “students are taught to think critically and independently”. She identified Oxford’s tutorial system as a “unique asset” in combating the potential pitfalls of AI in learning. 

Tracey also spoke about local community work, such as partnering with the homelessness charity Emmaus Oxford: “I want my hometown people to actually feel that having the world’s number one university on their doorstep really does make their lives better.” 

From the start, the Vice-Chancellor also referenced that the turmoil facing British politics today might reflect “a nation not sure of its identity”. 

As for Oxford’s identity, Tracey pointed at the role of innovation and STEM, lauding a dizzying array of successes.“It is estimated that over two billion people worldwide are using or benefiting from a piece of research that came from Oxford… that’s impact,” the Vice-Chancellor said.

 The Vice-Chancellor also praised the “eye-watering investment” that Oxford quantum spin-outs have attracted. One such spinout, Oxford Ionics, was acquired for $1.075 billion by US-listed IonQ last year, while Oxford Quantum Circuits (OQC) closed a £260 million funding round this June – the highest ever won in Europe by a quantum computing company. 

“I sense we’re more comfortable now owning [innovation] as part of our identity,” the Vice-Chancellor said. 

For a university traditionally prized for the humanities and philosophy, with eight out of the last eleven prime ministers studying at Oxford, this is a notable shift.

The Vice-Chancellor went on to link these achievements in innovation to strong investment, referencing the University’s £6.9 billion in net asset value. In it, she thanked the Syrian-Saudi Arabian businessman and philanthropist Wafic Saïd for a “transformational” £15 million donation to the new Global Leadership Centre. 

The Vice-Chancellor then spoke about Oxford’s unique financial stability amongst struggling UK universities, calling for “that difficult national conversation about how we fund the UK higher education sector”. Just last week Nottingham University confirmed the closures of all modern language and music degree courses. However, Oxford is not immune to financial pressures. Oxford University Press workers are also still striking over offshoring jobs to India. 

The Vice-Chancellor also affirmed her support for diversity in higher education. She said: “If you are serious about excellence, the potential for excellence and finding top talent, you will end up with a diverse team.” “Look at the Premier League, or my beloved Everton”, she said. 

As said at the beginning of this year’s oration, the Vice-Chancellor concluded by arguing that “at this critical point in our collective history”, the University would make a mark on Britain’s identity as a “place of ambition, excellence, kindness and hope”.