Introduction
In April 2008 I contracted Guillain-Barre syndrome (GBS) which put me in hospital for 10 months and was off work for a total of 18 months. I returned to work with a major mobility disability – my ankles did not work as a means of keeping me upright and able to walk. I also had impaired grip in both hands and radically reduced manual dexterity. Living with these disabilities is a major pain in the arse. There are so many things I can no longer do.
I do not like the term ‘disabled person’. I prefer a ‘person with disabilities’. Living with disabilities is part of my identity and while the physical impact has been catastrophic in many ways (I now must pay for things I once could do – like gardening and home maintenance at considerable cost). I do not consider disability to be a dominant element of my identity. It is only one of its many facets. My personhood is intact and functioning perfectly well.
I have recently been exploring the postmodern and social justice politics of disability theory and related identity claims. They are bewildering to me. I have had to engage with them because they are now part of the social landscape.
I had ignored them previously because I was focused entirely on addressing the functional priorities of disability. Now I am aware of them I will return to ignoring them because I have no use for them. But I want to clear on why.
I returned to work in late September 2009 and had a rough time adapting. My colleagues were great. They were supportive and kind. My management wasn’t so much. I was a novel problem to them, and I wasn’t treated with any real insight. Of course not. Staff who have acquired major disabilities and return to work expecting to pick up where they left off are fortunately relatively uncommon. In my 33+ years in the public sector I knew of only a few people who returned to work with some level of disability following a MVA whilst on duty.
My lived experience of disability has, from the outset, been about functionality. I spent 7 months in a rehab ward learning to move my body in a coherent way again. This was followed by a continuation of rehab at home for over 6 months – 5-7 hours of physio a day. My residual disabilities were the best I could get to.
Returning to work was all about functionality. The 90-minute train commute was awful and was followed by a 25-minute walk. Others could do the walk in around 5 minutes. Sometimes I caught a cab when the weather was a problem. At work reviving my bureaucratic brain was surprisingly hard. I typed with one finger, sometimes two.
In July 2010 I became a founding member of our department’s Disability ERG. In early 2016 I was voted in as Deputy Chair and when the Chair quit the department in November 2016, I suddenly found myself leading a diminished and dispirited ERG. The department had been undergoing major restructures which led to us losing over 50% of our members and the early progress we had made had dwindled to an almost imperceptible crawl.
Up to that point the ERG had been a passive advisory body that met with HR 4 times a year. The meetings lasted all day. The venue was excellent, and the catering was very good. The meetings were totally managed by HR, and our role was to contribute thoughts, ideas and accounts of experience. It was a good process, about which I have no criticisms. But it reached the limits of its potential. We needed more.
I had always been an innovative problem solver so my response to the unmet need of my members was to get busy. I was in that role for 3 years and 3 months and was very successful. I was invited to present at the Australian Network (AND) on Disability’s Annual National Conferences in 2019 and 2020 on the innovative work the ERG had done. I also coordinated the department’s participation in the AND’s Access and Inclusion Index in 2019 and designed its 2020-2024 Disability Inclusion Action Plan (DIAP).
My focus was establishing the adjustments and accommodations staff with disabilities needed to be able to do their jobs in an accessible and inclusive manner. I also acted to foster greater inclusivity in the workplace culture. For me inclusivity had to be universal. We couldn’t demand inclusion while we were excluding others.
My engagement with disability started way back in the 1970s when I worked in psychiatric hospitals providing personal care in a hospital ward and supervising patients during day activities. I later worked in Veteran Affairs procuring aids and equipment for disabled veterans and processing applications for dental treatment. Much later I negotiated license compliance with aged care services and private and NGO disability accommodation services and workplaces. Then I coordinated state-funded health and community access services to residents of private disability accommodation services and then ran an emergency accommodation service for children and adults with disabilities for my region. If I wasn’t proving direct support, I was solving problems and coordinating service delivery. I also ran disability accommodation service procurement exercises.
In essence I dealt with people with disabilities who were in need of direct care or services or who needed adjustments to physical settings, technologies, policies, practices or attitudes and beliefs over close on 50 years. The really strange thing is that it was only last year that I realised that disability had been such a dominant theme in my career.
So, my encounter with postmodern and social justice ideas about disability seem to have come out of left field. But that’s because my focus on functional concerns left no room for the politics. Hence the idea that disability is the performance of an identity that should be celebrated leaves me stunned. The argument that a person can self-identify as having a disability to be a member of a particular community completely perplexes me.
I struggle to have an opinion because I don’t understand these ideas. Nothing in now over 50 years of engaging with disability has given me any foundation for comprehending this. I understand that maybe these days I am so focused on work-related Disability Inclusion that I have a narrow vision of disability.
One of my principles has been that inclusivity must be the foundation of Disability Inclusion. We cannot be asking others to be inclusive of us if we are not extending that spirit of inclusion to others. That means we must be inclusive of those who resist our efforts. We cannot blame or come into conflict with others who do not see things as we do.
We won the moral right to seek inclusion from our organizations because of the legislation that has been enacted and the policies and programs put in place. But when it comes to individuals there is no compulsion enshrined in law. We have won permission to persuade, not to demand. I am now aware there is a Disability Pride movement that says its members demand that their right to be included is granted. Yeah. Good luck with that.
Disability Inclusion is complex and difficult. This is precisely because it has no coercive power. We cannot compel, only persuade. And here I am talking only of establishing adjustments and accommodations – whether in systems or in the consciousness of those who have power over the systems. Not even the coercive power of legislation is sufficient to move administrators with any enthusiasm. They have ways of engaging what is often described as ‘malicious compliance’. This isn’t necessarily an act of evil (thought sometimes it is). It sometimes has more to do with status protection and arse-covering. But resistance can also arise for many reasons that are sensible and proper – like a genuine lack of capacity. Efforts at coercion result in conflict and rarely result in the desired outcome.
My disability functional theory
I can’t ignore what is going on in the sense of refusing to acknowledge that it is there and trending and a genuine source of passion and meaning for some people. But having now made a very decent effort at understanding what is going on I have decided that it’s nothing of any use to me.
Below I want to articulate my theory of disability – which I have had to make up in an effort to understand why I am responding as I am. I need to know that its not just reactive gatekeeping and unreflected bias.
A disability is an inability to do something because of a condition of mind or body that you were born with or acquire and concerning which you need some kind of assistance or accommodation to engage in a desired activity. A disability is, thus, the impairment of one’s functionality.
In a work context there are several responses to a person with a disability which impacts their capability to perform their role:
- Adjust systems, processes, procedures, devices and physical spaces along universal design principles to remove unintended impediments to equal accessibility.
- Modify any of the above to meet individual needs (subject to ‘reasonable adjustment’ provisions).
- Influence the behaviour of organizational leaders to ensure demonstrable compliance with organizational policy, standards and principles. This will include accountability mechanisms.
- Influence the organization’s workplace culture to promote, reinforce and reward inclusive behaviour at individual and work team levels.
Disability is context specific. If an adjustment or an accommodation is not required, the disability ignored. That is to say that if a person’s capacity to act is not impaired in a certain context no disability is relevant.
I don’t know whether the term Functional Disability Theory (FDT) exists anywhere. A quick internet search didn’t deliver anything suggesting it does. So I have invented it to make my argument. FDT has the advantage of preventing a person’s impaired capacity from becoming a persistent dominant element of a person’s identity.
In a sense this embraces the logic of the Social Model of Disability (SMD) by acknowledging and addressing ‘disabling’ environmental factors to the extent possible. But it also allows that not all disabilities in all contexts are relevant to a person’s identity.
FDT isn’t a philosophical or a political theory It is a practical commitment to what works to address real needs of people whose disabilities adversely impact their ability to share life opportunities with others on an equal footing. In this case the context is the workplace, but it could apply equally as well to any purposeful activity.
I have been arguing in this blog that Disability Inclusion is a skilled practice – a professional pursuit. Its moral foundation is attested and done. All subsequent activity is persuasive, involves the formulation of strategies or concerns relating to the design and implementation of solutions. There is only one objective – to help an employee with disabilities to give their best work with dignity and equity.
By taking a purely outcome based functional approach a Disability Inclusion practitioner commits to acting to assure that an organization’s behaviour is aligned to its obligations, principles and commitments.
At no stage of the working out the FDT in practice is there any form of coercion. At an organizational level responsibility and duty are already established. On an individual level persuasion is the only tool to be employed.
A key element of the FDT is that a moral right to be included isn’t enforceable by coercion but must be freely recognised and honoured. A moral right isn’t a legal right. Neither the Australian Commonwealth Disability Discrimination Act 1992 nor the New South Wales Disability Inclusion Act 2014 seek to impose obligations upon citizens. The Disability Inclusion Act 2014 positively affirms rights. For example, under General Principles we will find: (8) People with disability have the right to live free from neglect, abuse and exploitation. But there is no positive requirement imposed upon private citizens to ensure this right is upheld.
Ultimately FDT is about fixing or solving problems experienced by staff with disabilities in a direct manner.
It isn’t the only disability theory that may be held to be valid and valued. Adherence to one theory does not invalidate or negate another. It is simply rational to operate consistently with one theory. In my case I work within a workplace context. Here alternative theories are not a good fit for achieving desired outcomes.
I make no pretense to be a theorizer. The FDT has been an instrument that has helped me clarify how I understand my approach to Disability Inclusion. It is not intended as a theory to be promulgated and defended. Its purpose does not extend beyond its clarification use.
Disability Identity is context sensitive.
I have a rough list of 20 attributes which are part of my identity. All of them constitute me. They are always present. But they are not always apparent in, or relevant to, every situation.
For instance, when I am sitting at a cafe table I keep my crutches in easy reach. But I don’t need them at the table. The fact of my disability might be inferred by the proximity of the crutches but neither its duration nor nature are evident – and if I am not asked, I don’t tell.
I drink from takeaway cups because my grip disabilities make holding a regular ceramic cup or mug neither practical nor safe. If I am asked why I am using a takeaway cup I will say why. But I will not offer an explanation otherwise.
Beyond any functional context disability is, for me, irrelevant. If I need an accommodation or an adjustment I will ask. If I am asked about my disabilities I will tell.
I noticed that in the department’s Disability ERG the founding members didn’t talk about their lived experience of disability unless it was to convey something about how it impacted their ability to do their jobs. That was our focus and context.
When I became ERG lead, I had to ask members about their lived experience at work so I could understand their concerns, but this rarely expanded into more personal areas. We were work colleagues and ERG members first. Our purpose for getting together was to address accessibility and equity issues experienced by staff with disabilities – purely functional. This was because we all knew what it was like to not have access or equity. How we lived with our disabilities in our personal and private lives wasn’t something we felt moved to share. There was no shame or uncertainty, just disinterest in the context we were in.
Friendships between ERG members were formed, of course. I know the experience of living with a disability in a personal sense was shared because of the friendships I formed. But our activity, as ERG members, was firmly workplace-focused because outcomes that reduced member suffering were what our mission was about.
My problems with theories about disability.
Theories about physics work because we engage with the world in a way that is substantially consistent. But this is not to say these theories are the last word in how the world works. We have progressed from Newtonian physics (which still works) to quantum physics (which also works) – without having fights about which one is okay.
Theories on social justice are another thing entirely. For starters they are not ‘scientific’ but social and hence subjective and political. You can be deeply involved in the welfare of others without the slightest notion of the storm of theoretical passions raging in the background.
My troubles started when I had a conversation with a person who said they had ADHD and hence had a disability. My reflex was to want to know what that meant. The context was workplace related, so my thoughts went to functional concerns about adjustments and accommodations. The conversation didn’t progress, so I was left wondering.
The next disruptive experience was coming across a mob calling themselves Disability Pride. Why? What was this about? It was demanding inclusion as a right. This was neither civil nor practical in my view.
I had obviously been inhabiting an innocent fog for the past 6 years, longer in fact, as I discovered.
I needed a quick education and so I read 4 blog posts from Mad in America and 3 books reviewing the social justice and postmodernism movements. Wow! There was some interesting and worrying stuff going down – and I was grateful to have been ignorant of it.
The social justice movement has done some fabulous work in changing how we live our lives. But then academics have gotten involved – and this is where things have gone in a direction that I cannot feel any enthusiasm for.
Now I have no objection to academics inquiring into, and theorizing about, whatever they like. Most of their efforts remain in-house and are read by very few people. But some of that work goes feral and ends up like cane toads or rabbits in the social landscape – a good idea at the time but rued with hindsight.
I should note that most (probably 60%) of the non-fiction books I read are by academics whose work I esteem highly. I read a lot. I just started my 500th non-fiction book since December 2016 (its July 2025 as I write this) – so it is interesting to me that it has been only recently that I have come across book about ‘Theory”. Here I am talking about papers rather than books – and especially ones that resonate social justice activists looking for arguments that support their passions.
This wouldn’t be a problem if the theorizing was taken to be inspiration for insights that further the social justice cause. But what has happened is that theories have become political dogma that enshrines some really quite unhealthy emotions that then leads to intolerances, fights and schisms. It’s very similar to the conflicting theologies of historic Christianity.
The Social Model of Disability (SMD)
The SMD is an example of how a theory has become a political position that isn’t as useful as it started out being. Now, if you even acknowledge the medical model of disability you are treated with scorn in some quarters.
The original idea that many people with a disability are deeply disadvantaged because the way our built environment was so ableist was a critical insight that led to such as ramps being included in buildings and parks as well as a host of other changes to our shared spaces. I have been a member of my local government’s Access Reference Group for 4 years and I have seen an impressive commitment to assuring accessibility and inclusion.
But some now argue that the SMD is the only model permitted. In the book Cynical Theoriesthere is a description of an argument that deaf people are disabled by society because the community privileges hearing people and does not give deaf people an equal go by requiring everyone learning how to sign. You can see that in one way this kind of seems a fair enough argument, but on a functional level it’s completely silly. Teaching everyone to sign isn’t practical – even if they assented to learning.
The Medical Model of Disability (MMD) acknowledges the simple fact that a disability has a diagnosable element to it. But this doesn’t actually exist as a model in its own right. It’s just a foil in the SMD which has made a host of assumptions. We can’t separate diagnosis from lived experience of disability in any setting – social or communal. One leads to the other. Except now the MMD has been replaced what I will describe as the Self-diagnosed Model of Disability (SDMD). It’s about how you feel, not how a medical practitioner assesses you.
I have a bit of sympathy for this perspective – especially when normal emotions can be given a medical name and become a ‘disabling’ diagnosis. But to me this should be about the SDMD not only restoring the power to see oneself outside the medical diagnostic framework but denying any notion of disability. Instead, it by-passes the MMD and goes straight for a disability designation as if a medical assessment in an impediment to getting to the destination.
Instead seeing disability as an adverse diagnosis, it now seems preferred. It confers some benefit that presently eludes me. From my functional perspective the only benefit is activation of entitlement to the support to receive the accommodation and adjustments you need to give your best work. Regardless of your personal convictions, that’s a needs assessment that should be made by the people responsible for arranging (and paying for) the needed accommodations and adjustments. This also applies to the Disability Inclusion advocates supporting their claim. How the SDMD applies outside the workplace context isn’t something I am currently concerned about.
I don’t like the SMD because it is poorly thought through. The point that many places are inaccessible because of design has been well taken and efforts at redressing that inequity are happening all over the place. Progress is slow because there is competition for resources for causes considered to be equally meritorious. That’s a fair point to debate, of course.
The roots of this accessibility inequity have arisen from historical and cultural causes that reach back millennia – to ideals of blemish-free perfection – which linger still in our psyches. And they have nothing to do with intentional repression. They are cultural rather than political – although the business of removing the inequity is very definitely political. But that shouldn’t be interpreted through a philosophically partisan lens, nor assumed to be the consequence of intentional heartlessness.
The biggest problem with the SMD is that it does not distinguish between obligations imposed upon organizations via political power – e.g. via legislation, policy and programs – and the liberty of individuals not to comply with demands for inclusion. Can you imagine a government making a law that says all citizens must learn signing and maintain it at a sufficient level to ensure that they could communicate with a deaf person at an appropriate level?
A model of disability that blames everybody else for not being inclusive is useless because it can’t deliver benefits and can only cause resentment. This kind of approach to Disability Inclusion will deflect attention away from goodwill efforts to make progress in arguing the case for greater inclusivity. We must remember that budgets which provide the resources to create the changes to accessibility and equity aren’t allocated with compliance with (all) legislation in mind – but on capacity to access the revenue needed.
Its fair enough to make the case that more can be spent on Disability Inclusion but if you get into a political argument asserting that honouring all rights is paramount, you will be vulnerable to the same argument being waged by more influential proponents of other causes. Better to engage in persuasion to ensure a fair allocation. Our appetite for social justice is far greater than the pie we expect to feed it. We must identify our priorities calmly and strategically and not propelled by a storm of unresolved angst.
The problem with performance of an identity
Cynical Theories describes how, in the field of Disability Studies, there is a belief that disability is a ‘performance’ to be celebrated and that efforts to remediate a disability (the MMD) are oppressive. This is pretty much akin to criticizing me for trying to ‘fix’ my disability via the MMD solution of buying Canadian crutches.
I was inspired by the dancer and choreographer Claire Cunningham who uses Canadian crutches in her performances who observed that disability is part of the spectrum of being human. She didn’t want to be ‘fixed’. But she did want to take advantage of technologies that could make her impairment less disabling – so she could dance.
The book also describes how, in the spirit of post modernism, self-diagnosis as having a disability in order to join a community identity is a good thing because it is disruptive of social norms. This reduces disability to a performance and an identity to be celebrated – a source of pride.
On a personal level I find this profoundly offensive. Cynical Theories makes an essential point here. It is not the disability that is being celebrated but person. This is no better illustrated in the Special Olympics. It’s still called “Special” – a now way out of date term which I hope is more a marketing term than a reflection of a philosophical position. It is the spirit and determination of the athletes that celebrated. Not their disability.
But maybe this is the point. The heroic status of an Olympian with a disability can be shared by all people with disabilities and those who identify as a person with a disability. No? Personally, I have no sense of reflected glory from an Olympian with a disability – no matter how much I admire their achievements.
I must be blunt here. I am also of an age when I should stop fantasizing about being younger, fitter and better looking. My 13 months of desperate physio gives me immense respect for athletes with disability and the work they put in to recover and then get that good. But I am more of a nerd. I worked that hard on my physio because I knew what would happen if I didn’t – I couldn’t be nerdy in an effective way. Yeah, a purely functional response. I have no interest in putting in the awesome effort it takes to be an Olympian. My focus is elsewhere. I can’t use Stephen Hawkins as a hero model because I am nowhere in that league.
I live with disabilities that radically changed my life. In one respect this change was catastrophic. In another I must confess that I think I am better person. I prefer the post GBS me to the pre GBS me. Acquiring a major disability is likely to trigger deep philosophical reflection. I was 3 months in an ICU paralyzed from the neck down and I did a lot of that kind of reflection because my future was very uncertain.
Conclusion
I know Shakespeare said “All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts…
In this context, yes, disability is a performance – one of the many parts we play in the totality of who we are.
I think there’s a trend toward ceasing to take disability literally – as an impairment to an otherwise shared human ability that impacts one’s capacity to share the experience of commonly accessed activities. I don’t know why this is happening, but it does appear that ‘protected’ identities (eg LGBTQI+ and Indigenous) are subject to the same trend. It seems like a cultural phenomenon that we haven’t yet wrapped our heads around.
Some disabilities are not catastrophic. Being tone deaf or colour blind may wreck career dreams but they do not dominate how one lives one’s life. Other disabilities are life-defining. When I was working in a psychiatric hospital, I encountered a 12-year-old who was born blind and deaf. She was rescued from a shed where she seemed to have been secured when her family had gone out. Who knows how they cared for her. Maybe locking her in the shed was the safest thing to do at the time.
What I did discover was that in the hospital she was permitted no loving care, no intimate parental connection, no loving sibling. The hospital’s ‘care’ was emotionally remote and clinical. It was, by any real measure, cruel. I quit my job over this child. I can’t see the idea of performance fitting her fate. Neither is this an identity one would want to assume.
I make no apology for ignoring the theories and politics of identity being applied to disability. I am completely focused on functional concerns that make life and work easier for people with disabilities – and that’s what I am going back to focus on now. I am somewhat grateful for the journey into a different way of seeing things – though I feel as if I am a tourist. It’s not how I want to feel, think or live.