Robo-Vaccination Machine Offers New Hope Against Bovine TB

Published: 18 January 2026. The English Chronicle Desk. The English Chronicle Online

It began, improbably, with a shy tiger who refused to eat in front of humans. At London Zoo, a young Sumatran tiger named Cinta posed a dilemma for her keepers. So nervous was the animal that she would not feed if staff were nearby, raising serious concerns about how routine veterinary care, particularly vaccinations, could be carried out without causing trauma. From that challenge emerged an invention that its creator now believes could help tackle one of Britain’s most persistent and controversial animal health crises: bovine tuberculosis.

Tony Cholerton, a zookeeper who spent three decades at London Zoo and retired in late 2025, is not a conventional inventor. Before joining the zoo, he worked for many years as a motorcycle engineer, a background that gave him both mechanical skill and a practical mindset. Faced with Cinta’s problem, Cholerton began to wonder whether technology could remove the need for humans to be present at the moment an animal received an injection. The result was Robovacc, a remotely operated machine capable of delivering a quick, precise jab while the animal fed undisturbed.

The first test was a quiet triumph. Controlled from an adjacent room using a handset adapted from remote-control model aircraft, the device administered a vaccine to Cinta as she ate. The tiger briefly paused, startled by the pinprick, then calmly continued her meal. There was no panic, no distress, and no long-term aversion to the feeding area. For Cholerton, it was proof that stress-free vaccination of wild animals was possible.

Over time, vets at London Zoo adopted variations of Robovacc to vaccinate other species, including lions and Diana monkeys. Cholerton observed that the technology worked best with carnivores, which tended to tolerate the brief sensation of injection. Primates, by contrast, often remembered the experience and avoided the machine thereafter. Even so, the success of Robovacc demonstrated that automated vaccination could reduce stress, risk to staff and the need for restraint or sedation.

As Cholerton refined his invention during evenings in his east London flat, he began thinking beyond zoos. One problem, in particular, stood out: the role of badgers in the spread of bovine TB to cattle. The disease has plagued British farming for decades, leading to the controversial culling of badgers in England for more than ten years. While many wildlife charities argue that vaccination offers a humane alternative, the process of vaccinating badgers is currently costly, labour-intensive and stressful for the animals.

Under existing programmes, badgers must be trapped, often held overnight for several hours, and then injected by trained vaccinators. The logistics limit how many animals can be treated and drive up costs, making large-scale vaccination difficult. Cholerton believes his fully automated version of Robovacc, known as Autovacc, could change that equation entirely.

Autovacc is designed to operate without human intervention and could, in theory, vaccinate an entire badger colony of up to 20 animals. Each badger would be inside the machine for no more than a minute or two, dramatically reducing stress. “The dream is to see it used by scientists and farmers,” Cholerton said. He believes the machines could be mass-produced cheaply, making widespread deployment feasible. “This is about giving scientists the means to show that the science is correct, and badger vaccination works. The farmers win because they have a means to solve the TB problem in cattle. Everyone wins.”

The technology behind Autovacc is deceptively sophisticated. Badgers are lured by food bait into a Perspex tunnel, an environment they are comfortable entering. Inside, a series of sensors and smart systems determine whether the animal has already been vaccinated. Once vaccinated, a badger is lightly sprayed with nanoparticles that adhere to its fur. These particles trigger sensors if the same animal returns, diverting it through a different exit without another injection.

If the animal has not been vaccinated, doors guide it into a short vaccination chamber where its movement is gently restricted so that its hindquarters rest against sensors. In a fraction of a second, a needle emerges from behind a protective sheath and delivers the vaccine. Multiple safety mechanisms ensure the animal cannot bend or break the needle, nor exit the tunnel with the needle still in place. Once the injection is complete, the doors open and the badger is released.

To test the concept, Cholerton trialled the system on ring-tailed coatis, animals that, like badgers, are comfortable moving through tunnels. The results suggested the approach could work reliably in the field. Cholerton now hopes conservation scientists, wildlife charities and even farmers will collaborate to conduct real-world trials.

“This has got to be a collaboration,” he said. “The more interest the better. It would just be nice to see it being used with wild animals and undertaking vaccinations in a way that isn’t too invasive.” He also believes that if humane vaccination methods become viable at scale, political pressure will mount to move away from culling. “If it works for badger vaccination in a humane way, whatever government is in power will be obliged to take this route rather than just culling animals.”

Wildlife organisations have responded with cautious interest. Rosie Wood, chair of the Badger Trust, welcomed the idea of stress-free vaccination, noting that any reduction in animal suffering is significant. She said it was heartening to know that jab-shy wild species could be vaccinated without fear and distress. Wood also suggested that the technology could have applications far beyond badgers, potentially helping address future zoonotic disease threats before they spill over into humans.

However, she also injected a note of realism into the debate. While vaccinating badgers can help demonstrate that populations are kept free of bovine TB, she said it does not have a measurable impact on TB rates in cattle. “Even Defra now concedes it is not possible to prove any measurable impact on bovine TB rates in cattle as a result of badger culling,” she said, adding that if killing badgers has not worked, vaccination alone may not either.

This highlights a broader scientific and political tension. Research suggests that the main source of bovine TB transmission in cattle is other cattle, through movement and farming practices. Badgers can carry the disease, but their precise role remains contested. Cholerton does not claim Autovacc is a silver bullet. Instead, he sees it as a tool that could help gather better data, reduce conflict and support a more evidence-based approach.

Beyond bovine TB, Autovacc could have implications for conservation worldwide. Cholerton believes it could be particularly useful for vaccinating captive carnivores destined for reintroduction into the wild, such as Amur leopards, where minimising human contact is essential. In such contexts, technology that allows animals to remain wary of humans while still receiving medical care could be invaluable.

For now, Autovacc remains a prototype, but its inventor is optimistic. After decades of hands-on experience with animals and years of quiet engineering work, Cholerton hopes his machine will move from concept to widespread use. Whether or not it transforms the fight against bovine TB, the story of a shy tiger, a retired zookeeper and a robotic syringe has already reshaped how many think about animal health, technology and the balance between science and compassion.