Introduction
I recently responded to a post on Linkedin, something I rarely do. My reaction was triggered by a sinking sense of doom. Disability Inclusion is now doing double duty – as a movement for equity and accessibility and as a component of an identity politics movement. Association with the latter risks weakening the credibility of the former.
This was brought home to me powerfully last year when the NSW public sector’s DEN Connect held an event (Let’s Rock) celebrating “disability inclusion in the workplace” but said virtually nothing about disability in the workplace. The agenda, which commenced at 13.30 and finished at 17.30 had only one session specifically on public sector employment – NSW Government showcase – Disability Inclusion initiatives, which lasted 35 minutes. The keynote speaker was described in the agenda as a Comedian, Writer, Art Person. Their relevance to the theme of the event was lost on me, especially when there could have been a speaker from the public sector who had insight into disability inclusion in the workplace relevant to the audience. Notably, two people who could have done that job very well were relegated to bit parts only.
The event was more about disability as a lived experience and an identity rather than about how to advance disability inclusion in the workplace. But the challenge isn’t whether staff with disability are accepted in their workplaces, but their access and equity. I wrote a post on the event, DENconnect – disconnected?, back in September 2025.
Below I want to reflect upon what we mean by disability, and why this is important to us.
The politics of who we are
The identity politics movement has embraced disability. This is seen clearly in the Disability Pride movement, something I didn’t know existed until late 2024. To me it comes across as immature and intemperate at times. Their website says, “Disability pride is about disabled people coming together, being publicly proud of who we are, celebrating ourselves, and demanding inclusion. It doesn’t just fight back against stigma, or raise awareness, or even ask for access. It REPLACES these things with joy, celebration and power.” I disagree. This isn’t about power but powerlessness.
The Scottish disabled choreographer and dancer, Clair Cunningham, said that disability is part of the spectrum of being human. She said that she didn’t want to be “fixed”. This is power. I have a bunch of friends with disabilities but only two I met through my involvement with a disability ERG. The others I met because they were good and interesting people and with whom I formed affinities that had nothing at all to do with their disabilities.
The notion that people with disabilities have to come together to celebrate themselves bothers me. When I joined a disability ERG in July 2010 we had a clear goal – access and equity in our workplace. Obviously, we had social and personal interactions, but they were incidental to our focus. The only relationships that endured from then were, for me, based on mutual regard, and none of them were with people with disability. To be clear the bulk of the members were obliged to find work elsewhere because of a radical departmental restructure.
The idea that people with disability must come together to ‘celebrate’ themselves seems more like a case of shared misery and powerlessness. My point is that a focus on disability as the basis for identity and community must be carefully interrogated. On the surface it seems like a good thing – and no doubt it is to some. But should it be the basis of a movement?
One of the things I found frustrating and disappointing during my time as a Disability ERG lead was the way in which some other Disability ERGs seemed to wallow in ineffectuality – as if failure was the norm and all that could be expected. Maybe pride was the most that could be rescued?
So, the situation is complicated. The identity politics movement is emergent and has something to say. But it’s just not what I am into, which is not to say it doesn’t have merit and relevance. It would be arrogant and insensitive of me to measure others by my expectations.
Between June 2023 and June 2025, I was engaged as a casual consultant with my former employer to help its ERG leads be more effective. I had to reflect deeply on why I was so successful, so I didn’t make the awful mistake of trying to get other ERG leads to replicate what I did by mimicking me. What were the essentials of successful advocacy for workplace inclusion? In essence, being a smart canny operator. I just happened to have the right background and skillset and the luck to get the job at the time I did. I also had the immense good fortune to have outstanding senior executives who backed me. Maybe it was just that the stars were aligned to enable good stuff to happen.
So, my point here is that I should not make any cocky remarks about powerlessness in an unkind way. But it’s still powerlessness. We can’t substitute pride and bullshit for effectiveness in getting the equity, access and inclusion needed – unless wallowing in self-pity is your jam. Getting equity, access and inclusion is tough enough as things are. This isn’t a heartless conspiracy – just a rigidly ableist mindset that is very difficult to shift. It has ruled the world for many millennia, and equity and inclusion aren’t part of its natural vision for how things work. It scarcely cares what you think your rights are, but it’s getting better at doing so as our values evolve – and we continue to make our case..
In an earlier post, Why I needed my Functional Disability Theory (August 2025)
I drew a clear distinction between what I call functional disabilities (where an adjustment or an accommodation is required – and is covered by legislation) and what is to me an emergent interest in identifying as having a disability but not having any clear need for an adjustment or an accommodation. A person who said they had ADHD, which was a disability to them, made this plain to me when they wouldn’t say what accommodation or adjustment this disability required. Did they have a need for an adjustment or an accommodation or just a sense of recognition? We didn’t have the trust to discover that.
Neurodiversity is more complex than it seems
I am not dismissing the validity of the claim that ADHD is a disability off hand. I am asserting that in the absence of a clear understanding of what adjustment or accommodation is required there’s not a lot of point in making the claim -from my maybe excessively functional perspective. We all have needs for validation of who we think we are, but is identity as a person with disability the best way to satisfy them? Some think so, and it’s not my place to disabuse them of that assertion – I just don’t know how to respond at the moment.
I should observe that neurodiversity seems rampant in my family. Two nieces and a nephew have been diagnosed as autistic. A nephew is very definitely ND, as am I and at least 2 of my 4 siblings. To be clear I am ‘self-diagnosing’ based on copious research. The 2 nieces’ and the nephew’s autism have adversely impacted their young lives but does this amount to disability or just radical non-conformity? I don’t know. The ND nephew, siblings, and I share talent mixed with disruptive life experiences. Again, disability or non-conformity? We siblings talk about our and our family’s life experiences a lot. It could be that many families experience ND but have no language for it. Its just part of the normal spectrum of family life.
This of course raises a really problematic matter which I encountered when trying to encourage my employer to shift beliefs and attitudes about mental health. The problem isn’t whether mental illness is a genuine disability but how it is responded to can be inept and cruel. There is an unfortunate stigma attached to mental illness. Mental health is, to me, the big problem we struggle to deal with adequately or compassionately. Illness or disability? – or should we not care and just think that if a person is in need of kindness the reason why really isn’t our business and we should just be kind. What we call ‘mental illness’ might be no more than the spectrum of being human. Beyond severe manifestations maybe all else might be considered ‘normal’.
In this context the array of neurodiversity advocates raises a bunch of problems. One of the key ones is the number of people who are self-identifying as having a disability because of their neurodiversity – which they also self-identify. The problem isn’t whether their claim is justified but what they may seek as an adjustment or accommodation – if anything at all.
I think this is a good problem to have because it could mean that workplace cultures may become more accommodating of diverse attitudes and behaviors. By this I don’t mean merely tolerating behaviour that grates or unsettles but being genuinely inclusive of people who are just non-conforming. We can learn to be kinder, but it does seem that we may need permission to do so from our cultures and our own habits of thought. Is classifying needs into ‘approved’ and ‘not approved’ something we should be doing?
But this places a huge burden of effort to adjust upon a workforce as a whole, with no evidence of reciprocation from those claiming the right to be included. When we deal with behaviors rather than simple physical or sensory disabilities we enter a really vexed country. We expect self-regulation in others save in moments of real distress. We have all encountered that individual whose behaviour grates and who is disinclined to accommodate our reaction. Where do we draw the online on what it is okay to accept/tolerate?
The danger here is that we see disability and diversity as the same for some and distinct for others. My point is that neurodiversity advocates maybe don’t need to claim disability to make their case for inclusion. And some may need to work on their self-regulation with a little more urgency.
There’s more diversity than it can seem
Generally speaking, workplaces accommodate a decent level of diversity as it is. This includes people who are unpleasant to engage with, just uninteresting or a perhaps bit ‘strange’. Aside from the normal levels of civility and conformity with codes of conduct, interactions in the workplace play out as normal – we like some people and not others. We treat people civilly enough for a workplace to work okay. Not ideal, but good enough in general. Here I must emphasise that I am talking about public sector workplaces (the only ones I know well).
People living with conditions like anxiety or depression learn to mask their authentic feelings, sometimes to their detriment – when feeling free to ask for, and get, some accommodation would be way better for them.
I have had a long background in dealing with mental illness in several professional roles. So, I feel comfortable engaging with a person whose behaviour might be thought challenging. I know that not a lot of folks have this level of confidence, so it is unsurprising to me that many executives, managers, team leaders and team members have sometimes zero confidence or competence when dealing with challenging or odd behaviour. Sometimes the use of the term ‘challenging’ has more to do with how behaviour is responded to than the behaviour itself.
There is a chance that the identity politics movement might herald a new workplace culture. But if so, it’s a long way off being agreed upon and resolved. It may be that people who identity as having a mental illness will eventually feel safely able to ‘disclose’ in their workplace. To be clear I detest the term ‘mental illness’. Most people experience emotional or psychological injuries in my view. It’s not their minds that are the problem. Serious psychiatric disorders are rare in workplaces.
In certain respects, the identity politics movement may herald vital changes in workplace cultures that will make them genuinely more inclusive. But this is like going back to the 1960s and 1970s when key rights issues were contested – and the reformers won. It is important that we don’t confuse old victories with contemporary expectations – not because there is a moral gulf between them but because we haven’t yet adapted culturally to emerging values – and neither have we necessarily accepted them.
This brings me to the complex issue of people identifying with existing accepted categories of ‘protected persons’. A Pew research report I read last year observed that people were identifying as being gay or lesbian, transgender, having a disability or being an indigenous person when there was no substantive evidence to back up their claims. False claims of being an indigenous person have led to the emergence of the term Pretendian and significant mechanisms to prevent fraudulent claims.
There’s a political pressure to allow that self-identification is all that is required. The objections to it will be evident to many, but affection for that take on things is strong among some, who can also be intemperate in their advocacy for their view.
Identity fluidity seems to have grown with the expansion of the influence of social media. Self-diagnosis as being neurodiverse is commonplace now. As is claiming being neurodiverse means one has a disability. This doesn’t mean that the diagnosis is not valid. But there is a risk that claims to have a disability are efforts to claim an identity that is not warranted – but even making such a claim itself could be indicative of a disability of some kind.
It’s a novel, complex and messy situation that is in need of careful and respectful inquiry.
We don’t like messy complex situations
Organizations and their workplace cultures do not like messy complexities. The reflex is to shut down and make them go away – unless there are energetic advocates who sway office politics in sometimes problematic ways. There are signs already that organizations are weakening their DEI teams and making them less responsive to the established and legitimate needs of staff with unambiguous disabilities.
DEI teams and some HR departments, with good intent, have mingled political concerns with compliance with legal and policy obligations. Emergent demands for inclusion must be distinct from existing legal obligations. And an asserted moral obligation is not the same thing as an established one. It is still subject to inquiry and disagreement. It is not okay for political activists in an organization to blur this distinction. In fact, as the evidence seems to indicate, it serves no good purpose. It comes across as intemperate, politically naïve and inept in terms of getting the desired changes. It seems to be increasingly working against the very people they claim to support.
I don’t understand this identity-based sense of disability. But it’s critical to observe that those who do don’t appear to understand physical or sensory disability. I am close to my trans brother who also has a significant acquired physical disability that affects his mobility. We talk a lot. He has links into the identity politics I don’t, so I do my best to get an education.
Disability itself isn’t a monolithic category in which all members understand each other – but there’s a contrary logic which evidently appeals to fans of disability pride. Having a disability is a bond. It may be to some, but not to the people I know. Sure, there’s a sense of empathy when you come across a person with a disability you can relate to. But beyond that do we look at each other with ‘visible disabilities’ and feel a necessary and meaningful bond? I don’t, because I can have other stronger bonds with many people who share my life experiences, ideas and values. I watched a video in which Tom Shakespeare observed that you can have a disability and a good life. His remarks would maybe horrify and offend members of Disability Pride.
Disability is very individual – as I learned when I became a Disability ERG lead and had to represent the interests of my workmates. I was severely schooled by blind and deaf members in particular. It took over a year of repeated education by them before my ability to not overlook elements of sensory disabilities was at an adequate level. And still I was surprised and humbled by stories told with physical disabilities.
What disability is
An inability to do something isn’t a disability. A disability is, in my view, a lack of capability to perform an action in an unaided or unmodified way that is expected to be performed by a ‘normal’ person, and which results in a disadvantage or inequity that is generally accepted as unfair, unreasonable or unjust.
I can’t safely climb stairs that do not have handrails. Handrails are commonplace on stairs so there is a general acceptance that such an aid is normal and expected. I am, because of the handrails, not disabled in this context.
A lot is made of the social model of disability – often too reflexively and rhetorically in my view. However, it is a useful guide in many cases. I am a member of my local government’s Disability Reference Group and courtesy of the social model of disability we engage in effective conversations aimed at making our shared spaces as inclusive as possible. This experience is useful in engaging with the limits of practicality and cost.
Making something as ‘accessible’ as possible within available means isn’t the same thing as demanding inclusion as an absolute right.
When it comes to identity-based ideas of disability we can enter a whole different area of complexity. This arises when the adjustment or accommodation sought is not physical, procedural or systemic but the response by individuals.
The issue of mental illness has already demonstrated difficulties here. Personal capacity to feel comfortable dealing with a person with a mental illness varies widely. And because it’s personal for some it’s also private.
There is training available to help staff engage with service users whose behaviour might be considered challenging. But how effective it is depends very much on the individual participating in the training.
The point to be made here is that this is very tricky territory if, for example, a person with ADHD declares they have a disability and seeks an accommodation that requires another person to adapt their emotional responses and behaviour – as an expected obligation rather than by consent and assent.
Our culture has made being different tough. Kids get bullied at school for differences in appearance, capability and behaviour. I was for all three. As adults we tend to be less overt but frequently no less cruel. Non-conformity isn’t something we are inherently cool about. In fact, being intolerant of it is hardwired into our psyches. Conformity is safety.
It would be so much nicer to live in a kinder, more accepting culture in which the diversity of our differences can be comfortably accommodated. But that demands that we do something radical with our psychological natures – and not everyone might be happy about that. Contemporary complex pluralistic cultures are very different from our tribal roots. Risks and rewards are very different – but we don’t consciously know that for the most part.
Thinking about ADHD as a disability has forced me to rethink mental illness because it falls within the expectation that we need to be kinder to include those who do not behave, see the world, or feel as we do – but who still sit within our sense of community.
I go back often to Claire Cunningham’s remarks and now add that there’s a whole variety of differences in how we see the world and respond to it that are just part of the spectrum of being human.
Conclusion
Here I am thinking out loud because I do believe this is something we need to work through as a culture.
The need for greater kindness and inclusivity is, I hope, not up for dispute.
But I want disability to remain as a simpler more concrete affair rather than entering the complex and maybe contentious area of seeing neurological conditions as necessarily a disability.
Under the social model we have responded to disability by making our environment less ‘disabling’ for many. We have made our workplaces more accessible and more equitable. But even so we struggle when it comes to adjustments and accommodations that require that we as individuals change our beliefs, attitudes and behaviors. To be sure, this struggle isn’t necessarily about a lack of will or concern but about competing for the mental and emotional focus and energy such changes require.
We have the option of extending our definition of disability endlessly or ruling a line under what we have now and reframing future discussions to be about kindness.
At some stage the social and the personal merge. Our anti-discrimination legislation stops short of describing thought and behaviour crimes on a personal level. We feel okay about mandating inclusivity at an organizational or government level. But no further. We can’t mandate kindness, but we might be able to mandate the inauthentic performance of it. But at the cost of stoking the fires of resentment.
The reaction to ‘woke’ identity politics over the past few years should be a wakeup call to many advocates for inclusion. Any scent of compelling or mandating thought or action against personal feeling will trigger a reaction. Often the very people the activists say they are supporting end up being victims of the backlash they trigger. My trans brother feels this acutely. We must rethink a lot of things if we are to maintain progress towards greater inclusion and kindness.
We need to have a conversation as a community. Mutual respect is essential. The tactics of intemperate activism work no better than bold assertions of moral authority or an intellectual theory supposed to prove that another way of thinking is flagrantly inferior.
True there are those for whom greater kindness will grate against their beliefs in Social Darwinism which favors competition. They will not be persuaded by passions hued with moral righteousness and frustration – which only reinforce their beliefs. They may not be persuaded by appeals to kindness either. But they may be worn down by it, if we persist. They might just be assholes we need to tolerate and whose toxicity we defuse through kindness.
Those who are impatient for change misunderstand those who seem to resist it. Many are already dealing with enough demands on a personal level such that their cognitive capacity to accommodate more is exhausted. You don’t persuade such folks to do more by berating them.
You don’t ‘fight’ for greater kindness and inclusion. You can’t be kind to, or inclusive of, people you fight with.
There is a good reason people are not compelled to be kinder and more inclusive. Persuasion alone is the means we have through which to achieve our goals. And that starts with living the ideals and values we espouse and champion.
Can we leave disability as it is and start a new conversation about kindness?
Afterthought
I just found a thought-provoking essay on neurodiversity on Substack – What if Neurodivergence Isn’t The Deviation. It argues that neurodiversity is enabling rather than disabling – and has been so along the path of human evolution. What we see as ‘normal’ is the dulling of senses suited to a world of conformity in which ableism is a toxic norm.
If we can create a culture which is kinder to those who diverge from that psychologically toxic norm (and render it no longer toxic), we won’t need labels to define our identity and our validity. We can create a climate of mutual respectful regard and fair reciprocity.
But that would be tough to create because it would mean surrendering beliefs, attitudes and behaviors we sincerely hold to be justified and just.
A sense of authentic meaningful identity is essential to our wellbeing. So, for me identity politics is an important phenomenon. Something isn’t right for a lot of people – and that’s no trivial matter. But defining diversity in terms of disability doesn’t serve anyone’s needs well.
We need to talk about this, especially in a time when forming armed camps in defense of a belief has become commonplace and reflexive.