 
	Could this technology end all viruses?
 This round structure is only about 
 ten billionths of a meter in diameter,
  but it— as well as other technologies
 in the pipeline—
  could be stepping stones to a monumental
 public health ambition:
  a single vaccine that protects you 
 against everything.
  We’ll get back to the grand vision later,
 but first,
  let’s start with something that’s
 being developed now:
  a vaccine that would protect you 
 against every strain of the flu—
  even ones that don’t exist yet.
  Here’s one flu virus particle.
  On the inside is the virus’ RNA,
  and on the outside are lots and lots
 of hemagglutinin proteins.
  Hemagglutinin attaches to a receptor
 on a human cell
  and fuses the viral and human membranes, 
 starting the infection.
  Hemagglutinin is also one of the things
 your immune system recognizes
  and reacts to the most.
  To understand how this works,
  think of hemagglutinin as a bust of 19th
 century French Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte.
  Croissant!
  If you show Napoleon to an immune system
 and say, “remember him,”
  the immune system will mostly
 focus on his head.
  And the same is true 
 for the real hemagglutinin.
  One way the immune system 
 remembers things
  is by physically interacting with them.
  Think of it as making plaster molds
 of parts of the head:
  we call these molds antibodies.
  The antibodies float around your
 bloodstream for a while
  and then can diminish,
  but blueprints on how to make them 
 are stored in specialized memory cells,
  waiting for future Napoleons to invade.
  Here’s the thing, though.
  Hemagglutinin is constantly mutating.
  Most mutations are subtle,
  produced by single letter changes 
 in the virus’ RNA: like this or this.
  Over time, Napoleon-slash-hemagglutinin’s
 head can change enough
  that our antibodies become less good
 at recognizing it.
  This is called antigenic drift.
  Influenza is constantly drifting;
  that’s one reason you have to get
 a new flu shot every year.
  But sometimes bigger changes happen.
  An animal, usually a pig, can
 get infected with, say,
  a human flu and a bird flu.
  And those different viruses might
 infect the same cell.
  If that happens, the two different viral
 genomes can recombine
  in tens or even hundreds of ways.
  The human flu virus could 
 pick up a bird flu hemagglutinin
  that’s never infected humans before.
  This is called antigenic shift,
  and if you get infected 
 by this version of influenza,
  none of the antibodies against Napoleon's
 head are going to help you.
  Antigenically shifted viruses
 have the potential
  to infect many people very quickly,
  causing epidemics and sometimes pandemics.
  A truly universal flu vaccine would be
 able to protect
  against current flu strains 
 and future drifted or shifted strains.
  But how do we design a vaccine 
 against a strain that doesn’t exist yet?
  We look to the past.
  There are key parts of hemagglutinin
 that haven’t changed much over time
  and are probably critical
 to infect human cells;
  these “conserved regions” could be 
 promising targets for universal vaccines.
  But there's a problem that's hindered
 classical vaccine production.
  Many conserved regions are in the neck,
  and it’s tough to get the immune system
 to react to the neck.
  Also, because influenza-like viruses have
 been around
  for hundreds of millions of years,
  there may not be a single region 
 that’s common across all species
  and subtypes of influenza.
  But there’s promising science
 in development.
  Remember this?
  This is a protein called ferritin;
  Its normal purpose is 
 to store and move iron.
  But it’s also the rough size and shape
 of a small virus.
  And if you attach viral proteins to it,
 like this,
  you’d have something that looks,
 to an immune system, like a virus—
  but would be completely harmless
 and very engineerable.
  Recently, scientists engineered 
 a ferritin nanoparticle
  to present 8 identical copies 
 of the neck region of an H1 flu virus.
  They vaccinated mice 
 with the nanoparticle,
  then injected them with a lethal dose 
 of a completely different subtype,
  H5N1.
  All the vaccinated mice lived; 
 all the unvaccinated ones died.
  Going one step beyond that,
  there may be conserved regions 
 that we could take advantage of
  across different-but-related 
 virus species—
  like SARS-CoV-2, MERS,
  and a few coronaviruses 
 which cause some common colds.
  Over the past few decades,
  a different part of the immune system
 has come into clearer focus.
  Instead of antibodies, 
 this part of the immune system
  uses a vast array of T cells that kill,
 for example,
  cells that have been infected by a virus.
  Vaccines that train this part
 of the immune system,
  in addition to the antibody response,
 could provide broader protection.
  A universal flu vaccine would be a
 monumental achievement in public health.
  A fully universal vaccine against all
 infectious disease is— for the moment—
  squarely in the realm of science fiction,
  partially because we have no idea 
 how our immune system would react
  if we tried to train it against hundreds 
 of different diseases at the same time.
  Probably not well.
  But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.
  Look at where medicine is today compared
 to where it was two centuries ago.
  Who knows what it’ll look like
 in another 50 or 100 years—
  maybe some future groundbreaking
 technology
  will bring truly universal vaccines
 within our grasp.