Meredith Wadman

British Columbia & Magdalen 1985

Born in Vancouver, British Columbia in 1960, Meredith Wadman studied at Stanford University and the University of British Columbia before coming to Oxford to read medicine. Following her medical training, she went on to the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. Wadman has written for NatureFortune and Science, working across science, medical research and policy and her reporting has won awards from Time Warner and the American Society of Tropical Medicine and Hygiene. She has contributed to the op-ed pages of the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, TIME and the Washington Post. She is the author of The Vaccine Race: Science Politics and the Human Costs of Defeating Disease, which was longlisted for a Carnegie Gold Medal and shortlisted for the Wellcome Book Prize. This narrative is excerpted from an interview with the Rhodes Trust on 11 July 2025.  

‘I loved writing from the get-go’ 

I grew up in Vancouver, but there was always an American focus in our household. My mum was American and my dad, who came from Revelstoke, B.C., had met her in Cleveland when he was a surgical resident and she was a nurse in the OR at Case Western Reserve University. I was a dual citizen from the day I was born.  

I loved school, and I loved writing from the get-go. I would write these little murder mysteries and I think it’s fair to say that by age nine, I wanted to be an author. That was in my sights and never really left, although it got submerged for a period of time. The other strong influence in my childhood was my older brother. I was a complete tomboy: I played tackle football with the boys on the block and I was into GI Joe, whereas other girls were into Barbies. I was completely bored by things girlish. With the emergence now of a lot more openness about trans identity, I do wonder, had I been born in another era, if that might have been my inclination.  

I got a lot of positive feedback, especially from my father, whenever I mentioned wanting to be a doctor, so I started heading in that direction. I could do it well. If I had flunked out of biology or chemistry, it might have made my life very different, and easier in many ways.  I did have some genuine interest in biology, but what appealed to me about medicine was the caregiving aspect and the idea – increasingly as I grew older – that one could put that to use in a global context in countries that were much less well served than Canada was medically.  

And then, a week after my fourteenth birthday, my older brother was tragically killed in a car accident. This was just devastating, as you can imagine, to our whole family. My parents were so broken by it. We all were. I think coming out of that, trying to put one foot in front of the other and help my parents in some way, the notion of disappointing my dad by not doing medicine became even harder, if not impossible.  

On applying for the Rhodes Scholarship 

I went to Stanford, and I remember filling out a questionnaire for freshmen, dutifully putting down that I wanted to do pre-med. But there was this little voice whispering, ‘History, history.’ I took a sample course in Western Civ, and a course in nineteenth-century German history. I was so out of my depth because I hadn’t studied much to put me into that liberal arts path. I have wonderful memories of Stanford in terms of the friends I made there and also its natural beauty, the smell of the eucalyptus and running up into the foothills. It was thrilling and full of interesting people.  

I majored in human biology and ended up going to the University of British Columbia to begin medical school. Before that, I took a year off and travelled with a friend and we went through 17 countries, from Spain through North Africa to the Middle East and on to East Asia. So, I had that hiatus, but I hadn’t used it to confront my demons which were, really, that I didn’t want to go to med school. And when I got to UBC I was working very hard, because it was easily the most academically rigorous and demanding environment that I’ve ever been in, before or since.  

A friend of mine who was a year ahead of me at UBC had applied for the Rhodes Scholarship the prior year. He actually withdrew, but that’s how the Scholarship got onto my radar. So, the following year, I applied and was accepted. I was only the second woman from British Columbia to be selected for a Rhodes Scholarship.

‘I had more space while I was at Oxford’ 

Before I went to Oxford I’d never been to England. Most of the others in my subject were British, and that made my experience as a Rhodes Scholar a bit different. I’d been studying so hard at UBC. At Oxford, the others in my class seemed more relaxed. That was an adjustment. My identity at that point was primarily Canadian, and I was really loud and outgoing. The English were so much more reserved. I made really good friends, but it took time, so that could be quite lonely too.  

I definitely felt I had more space while I was at Oxford, and as a result I began to really wrestle with this knowledge that would not be pushed down, that I didn’t want to spend my life seeing patients and being a doctor. In the fall of my second year, I was able to go to South Africa to do a paediatrics rotation, working in a major referral centre for black people in what was then Natal. This was the height of the apartheid era and there was tremendous repression and police brutality. I worked with a physician named Jerry Coovadia who was a legend in paediatrics and later in HIV medicine and was also a tremendous anti-apartheid leader. He was a total inspiration because he was fighting the good fight. When I got back to Canada, I wrote an article for the Toronto Globe and Mail about my experiences. That was the first piece I published in journalism and it was just like coming home 

‘I’m inspired to see people channelling their anger into peaceful protest’ 

After Oxford, I went back to Vancouver and worked for the peace movement with a group called Project Ploughshares. I did basic community organising. Then, I sort of drifted into writing a biography of a peace activist, but I couldn’t settle down to it. I wrote various freelance pieces and worked on a video documentary. I was dipping my foot into journalism and wanted to jump in with both feet. In the end, I decided I would go to journalism school, both to be taught the ropes and because it moved me into a different pond with the chance to network and meet people in this industry. I was at Columbia, doing their Master of Journalism programme. I ended up with an internship at the Wall Street Journal.  

One thing led to another, and I got my first job in Washington, DC. I’ve never left. My first stories were covering the inauguration of Bill Clinton (Arkansas & University 1968). It was a thrilling time to be in Washington. Later, I found my way to Nature which was looking for a biomedical correspondent. That was the start of a relationship with Nature which lasted until 2013 in one way or another. One subject I worked on that was very visible was human embryonic stem cell research. It was a controversial area and it illustrated the sorts of things that happen when science and policy bump up against one another. Vaccines have been a particular passion of mine, ever since I was a child and my parents would tell me how important they were. What the current US administration is doing to vaccine confidence is extremely concerning. But I’m inspired to see people channelling their anger into peaceful protest, people who can lead the way without becoming haters.  

I’m just about to retire from working at Science, and I’m very excited because I have lots of projects that I’ve been putting off, so now I get to engage with them. Foremost among those is a novel I’ve been working on. It has to do with eugenics and a young woman who was at the heart of a U.S. Supreme Court case in 1927. It’s a piece of historical fiction based on real events and what happened to her at the hands of the medical and legal establishment. It’s a very dark story, but I think a very important one to tell.  

‘Making a difference in the world by simply communicating’ 

For me, journalism was a way of making a difference in the world by simply communicating what I saw and what I learned. I was paid to learn about things and then communicate them. What wasn’t to like about that? Right from the start, the things I cared about were social justice issues, from that very first article about those sick kids in South Africa through to what I’m working on this very moment, an article about endometriosis, which affects up to one in ten women and which is grossly underfunded in terms of research. I’ve always been drawn to telling the story of the underdog. There’s a truism about journalism that it’s intended to afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted, and I think there’s truth in that.  

Transcript