For those of us working in clinical research, it’s easy to assume that facts should be enough. That data will speak for itself. That once something is proven safe and effective, the debate should be over.

But vaccine conversations, especially in 2025, don’t work like that.

They’re personal. Political. Emotional. And often shaped less by clinical data than by lived experience, social identity, and who someone follows on TikTok. The persistence of vaccine hesitancy, even after a global pandemic, reminds us that scientific evidence isn’t always the main character in public health.

Earlier this year, I joined a panel of researchers, physicians, and advocates for a public discussion on vaccines, trust, and science communication. It brought together different but complementary perspectives. These included vaccine development, public health strategy, clinical trials, and consumer engagement. The goal wasn’t to argue or convince. It was to acknowledge where trust has fractured and how we begin to repair it.

What stood out most was how much the conversation moved away from debates about facts, and toward a deeper question: how do people decide who to believe?

Why the trust gap matters

Professor Allen Cheng, an infectious diseases physician and epidemiologist, played a key role in Australia’s COVID-19 response as deputy chief health officer for Victoria, one of the country’s most populous states. He was candid: “Content creators are much better communicators than someone like me. They’re very good at it. … When we communicate, we’re often a bit dry and talk about facts and figures.”

Kylie Quinn, PhD, a vaccine researcher, added that visibility and accessibility play a major role. “People find information that’s on their phone, that’s feeding into their social media. That makes it easier to access, and, therefore, easier to trust.”

Catherine Hughes, who leads the Immunization Foundation of Australia, brought a deep understanding of community engagement. “If I’m a homeschooling mum, and I see a homeschooling mum share her thoughts on vaccination, I might be more likely to believe her than a random doctor who I have no connection with.”

These aren’t flaws in people’s reasoning. They are reflections of how trust is built today. Through familiarity, connection, and identity. Not just credentials.

Vaccine conversations aren't one-size-fits-all

One of the most important messages to come from the discussion was this: not all vaccines are the same. And we should stop talking about them as if they are.

In clinical practice, I’ve found it much more productive to discuss specific vaccines with patients, rather than speaking in general terms. Different vaccines are developed using different technologies, have different safety profiles, and suit different contexts. When people are given space to express uncertainty about one product, rather than feeling pressure to accept all vaccines as a single category, they often become more open to listening.

As I shared during the event: “I don’t talk to patients about whether vaccines are safe. Because different vaccines are different products, and they’ve got different safety profiles. ...The ability to allow people to actually sequester and talk about different things in different ways is very, very useful.”

This idea resonated with the panel. The more we allow for nuance, the less defensive the conversation becomes.

Communication should be human, not perfect

This is where science communication becomes critical. Not to correct people, but to meet them.

Quinn reflected on lessons from the pandemic: “When I was excited about something, I communicated that excitement. When I was concerned, I communicated concern without fear. ...There are a lot of lessons about how we can bring more authenticity. Perhaps a little emotion. Not fear, but honesty.”

Catherine Hughes agreed: “I don’t think it makes someone an anti-vaxxer to question what we do with our children and our bodies. I think it’s actually very responsible to have questions. ...What matters is where you go for the answers.”

Rebuilding trust in research starts with conversation

As much as this discussion focused on vaccines, it also served as a reminder of how people engage with clinical research more broadly.

Most people aren’t opposed to science. But many are tired of being told what to think. They want to be part of the process, not just on the receiving end of it.

That’s why we’ve been experimenting with a more community-centered model; one that invites people to learn, ask questions, and engage with clinical trials at their own pace. Instead of reducing engagement to a yes-or-no question about participation, we’ve seen the value in providing space for reflection, education, and dialogue. When people understand the process, they are more likely to trust it.

Clinical research, like vaccine communication, doesn’t work if people feel shut out. It works when people are brought in early, treated with respect, and given room to make informed choices.

A way forward

Trust in science won’t be rebuilt by pushing harder. It will be rebuilt by listening better.

That means creating space for curiosity, not just compliance. It means being transparent about what we know and what we’re still figuring out. It means recognizing that when trust is lost, it doesn’t come back through a slogan or a campaign. It comes back through relationships.

This doesn’t mean pandering to misinformation. But it does mean resisting the urge to collapse every conversation into a binary. As one audience member put it: “We don’t have to convert everyone to vaccine advocates. But we can have respectful conversations that keep the door open.”

That’s where change begins. Not in the comment section, but in the quiet moments where people feel seen, heard, and safe enough to keep asking questions.

Because science doesn’t exist in a vacuum. It lives in communities. And communities will only move forward with science if they’re invited into the conversation.

Hugo Stephenson, MD, is Co-Founder and Executive Chair of TrialScreen