The genius branding of the ‘Oxford’ vaccine

I am writing with a mild pain in one arm, having received my first dose of the Oxford vaccine yesterday evening. Alongside the scientists, I must also applaud whoever had the wit to call this the ‘Oxford vaccine’, rather than simply naming it after a pharmaceutical company. I’ve never been asked to advise on the naming of any pharmaceutical brand, but as far as I can see the rules are that you first imagine the kind of menacing name a James Bond villain would choose for a front company, and then add a few extra Zs, Xs or other odd letter combinations, just in case the initial name wasn’t quite sinister enough. What does this do to the placebo effect, I wonder? I’m willing to bet that if you produced ‘Mr Muscle Artery Unblocker ‘ or ‘Prostate Duck’ rather than calling everything Zzoxxifilin or something, you might find a 20 per cent improvement in pharmaceutical efficacy, if just through better compliance.

In Europe it’s known simply as the AstraZeneca vaccine, and seems to give everyone conniptions. Here, the word ‘Oxford’ lends a sense of heritage and provenance. As well as containing some sort of university, the town itself has done a fine job in pioneering new approaches to TV detectives, shoes, marmalade and pillow-cases. Anything with Oxford in it sounds kind of reassuring. So I’m very happy with my Oxford vaccine.

It’s the Oxford pillowcase I’m suspicious about. What makes a pillow seem so much nicer when it contains an entirely superfluous hem around the outside? Have we been hacked? The hem would be the perfect hiding-place for Bill Gates to conceal a chip allowing him to control our dreams through the nearest 5G mast. I’m definitely on to something here, because when I ring the notoriously secretive bedding supplies industry and ask about this, they just hang up.