4 minute read time.

The human species is not always very good at dealing with disability.  Does our reluctance to find sensible, workable solutions grow out of how our culture views people with a disability?

Perhaps, for some, ‘disability’ conjures up images of a group of awkward, time-consuming outsiders who always need our help.  Others may think of disabled people as folks that should, by definition, lead protected, sheltered lives because they cannot care for themselves.  In both instances, this pictures an out-group, divorced from, and yet troublingly part of, wider society.

Who or what is ‘disabled’?

A good place to start would be to as what the term ‘disabled’ means and who it applies to.

Disability is worth thinking about because the term, and how we often use it, is based on a misnomer, on ideas of ‘difference’ and ‘obvious helplessness.’

The popular images of disabled people and disability invariably leave out everyday situations that a lot of people find themselves in. Such as pregnancy and childbirth, injury, illness and varying severity of disease. It could be age related – whether being a baby or frail in old age. These are all moments when people find themselves dependent upon others for their care.

Disability is something that the World Health Organisation believes affects 1 billion people around the world, some 15% of the planet’s population.  The Office of National Statistics has found, in England alone, some 18% of people live with a disability. The UK disability statistics: Prevalence and life experiences, from the House of Commons Library, mentions that 16 million people in the UK had a disability in the financial year 2021/22, or  24% of the population.

It really does happen to all of us

As we can see, ‘disability’ – being dependent on others for care / mobility - in the population is normal, not unusual.  It can occur to anyone at any time, can be temporary or permanent. 

So, why do we as a society behave as if it is rare and out of the ordinary?  Why do we not design for it as standard in our built environment and everyday technology / products? 

At first sight, it is possible to see the solution to this question as being one of design, engineering and technology, modifying the world so disabled people can take part.

While having conversations with disabled people, reading around the topic of disability and engineering / design – it quickly becomes obvious that the hostile environment faced by anyone with a disability is clearly not a problem with technology, but with mindset. 

What buildings are for

Within the built environment, many may (rightly or wrongly) dislike the Swiss-French architect Charles-Édouard Jeanneret, known as Le Corbusier, for his ideas around modern architecture and the modern city.  His book, ‘Toward an Architecture,’ is the source of one of his most famous quotes:

“A house is a machine for living in.”

If we think of houses as tools which we happen to live inside, we can extend this, surely, to buildings in general – as tools which we use to house different activities such as office work, sport, events, retailing and storage. As such, buildings are more than just brick / concrete and steel boxes, they exist to do a job of work. 

Clearly, when we put up a building without thinking of the needs of each person that will use it, something has gone wrong somewhere - it is already a failure.  This is one more issue for the construction industry to get to grips with.  And not simply that industry, but developers, policy makers and the organisations that commission our buildings and facilities.

What true accessibility looks like

What does a building which works with and supports its disabled residents and users look like?

There is debate on whether a disability-friendly environment is produced by principles of universal design, or ‘diffuse design’, the principle that an item such as a chair is changed to meet the individual needs of the disabled person. 

An example of this would be Gallaudent University, a private university in Washington DC involved in the education of deaf students.  In her book, ‘What Can a Body do, How we Meet the Built World, Sara Hendren describes the way the design of the University’s buildings work to support its students.

Ramps instead of steps, so students can walk and talk at the same time, always maintaining eye contact, without worrying about falling. Seating is tiered and features multiple sightlines; Wood is used as a building material to carry vibration.

In 2007, Singapore’s Building Construction Authority introduced Universal Design principles to encourage the development of new, more accessible buildings. 

The way this has played out can be seen in a forty-storey office block called CapitaGreen, in Singapore’s central business district.  The building, designed by Toyo-Ito and completed in 2014, uses column free spaces, a low concierge counter and chairs equipped with a grab rail. Lift doors stay open for longer and handrails are placed on either side of staircases. Similarly, while directions in braille, tactile guidance and easy-to-read pictograms help people with visual impairments.  It features barrier free routes from underground pedestrian walkways and two mass transit stations.

It is not as if these principles can only be incorporated into new build construction.  Singapore’s Metro Network (MTN) has been retrofitted along similar lines. Stations now feature wider gates with at least two barrier free routes in most stations and tactile guidance.

What has been achieved in Singapore is a consequence of a concerted effort to make the city more usable for a future where, one in five of Singaporeans will be over 60 by 2030.

As we have seen, these facilities are not a product of science fiction, or an overly futuristic vision, they are here and now, produced with current technologies and techniques. 

Given that we are where we are, what would a truly inclusive, accessible environment (in its widest sense) look like? Share your thoughts in the comments. 

Parents
  • Sometimes disability does not show on the outside - limping, staggering etc but inside like congestive heart failure, which my decreased son had.

    Regarding construction issues, the big one for him was the UK railroad stations with stepped bridges used to obtain access to various platforms. He had to adjust  his rail travel plans to "easy" access stations, then a take a taxi to his final destination. In Prague's "underground" system, stations that have lift access, are marked on the system maps.

    The biggest problem with serious disability is the mental adjustment that one if forced to make to answer the Question " What am I going to do for the rest of my limited life?" 

    Peter Brooks

    Palm Bay 

Comment
  • Sometimes disability does not show on the outside - limping, staggering etc but inside like congestive heart failure, which my decreased son had.

    Regarding construction issues, the big one for him was the UK railroad stations with stepped bridges used to obtain access to various platforms. He had to adjust  his rail travel plans to "easy" access stations, then a take a taxi to his final destination. In Prague's "underground" system, stations that have lift access, are marked on the system maps.

    The biggest problem with serious disability is the mental adjustment that one if forced to make to answer the Question " What am I going to do for the rest of my limited life?" 

    Peter Brooks

    Palm Bay 

Children
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