Ableism, Covid-19 and why we must reevaluate the value of human lives
By Holly Barrows
There is no doubt that 2020 was a difficult year for all. The arrival of a highly contagious virus in the form of Covid-19 continues to have severe repercussions across the globe - yet it cannot be said that we have all weathered the same storm. In fact, those considered vulnerable have faced unique battles through no fault of their own. From the plight of homeless people to those in low-paid, ‘key worker’ roles - typically working class professions that are vastly underpaid and undervalued - social equalities have been brought into sharp focus throughout this pandemic.
For people with disabilities and underlying health conditions, dehumanisation is something they have long fought against. Unfortunately, ableism has only become further apparent throughout this public health crisis, rearing its head once more. From the outset, the UK government’s use of language to seemingly reassure the general public came at the expense of those with underlying health conditions or disabilities, callously and thoughtlessly ‘othering’ them through asserting that ‘only’ those who are immunocompromised or elderly were at most risk. Not only did this prove to be a critically misinformed approach to managing the virus, it served to highlight the damaging devaluing of lives that has long persisted under neoliberalism.
When discussing the rising death toll in the UK as a result of Covid, the government made a point of urging the public to recognise how many of these deaths occurred in those with pre-existing conditions, as if to imply that this made it more acceptable and should not cause too much concernamong those considered healthy. It became a ‘them’ versus ‘us’ situation; something scholars have written extensively on when researching ableism.
Kirsty Liddiard, Senior Research Fellow at the University of Sheffield, explores how this has historically been the case for those with disabilities, writing: ‘Disabled bodies and minds are actively sequestered from public view, space and culture: segregated in education; institutionalised in hospitals, homes and treatment units; detained in mental health units; criminalised in prisons.’ This segregation, she argues, sees impaired bodies and minds as of lesser value and subjects them to a different set of priorities than those considered ‘able’. The government’s relentless distinguishing between deaths among those who are considered able and those who are immunocompromised, disabled or elderly supports this theory.
We only have to look at the UK government’s initial approach to the pandemic to recognise the threat this dehumanisation poses. In a bid to protect the economy over human lives, Boris Johnson’s government came under intense scrutiny in March as, when faced with rising Covid cases, it wished to subject the country to a ‘herd immunity’ approach. This came despite abject warnings and discouragement from leading scientists. The aim was to expose the majority of the public to the virus, allowing it to run its natural cause and build immunity, despite recognising that this would mean countless lives lost in the process - with those most vulnerable inevitably being hit the hardest. This is something academics have described as a ‘form of epidemiological neoliberalism’; just like neoliberalism, leaving the virus unregulated through herd immunity would see the weak and the poor fatally exposed.
A report by the University of Bristol found that, when the death of a five-year-old child was first reported in the UK, there was a grim sense of relief across the public when it was established that the child had an underlying health condition. Researchers of the report compared this to the sense of detachment echoed in times of natural disasters: ‘But wait, it’s not here, it’s somewhere else, somewhere foreign.’ The report also noted the repeated news strapline again used to reassure the public: ‘91% of people dying with coronavirus have an underlying health condition, ONS figures show’. Rather than interrogating why those who are already immunocompromised were not prioritised or more adequately protected, this was largely accepted as a soothing matter of fact; something to downplay concern among the ‘abled’ and those considered healthy.
Unfortunately, the prevalence of ableism throughout the pandemic has not been limited to damaging discourse. Perhaps most harrowingly, some disabled people and those with health conditions received DNR (do not resuscitate) forms, with little consultation. One GP surgery in Wales was forced to apologise after sending letters to patients with life-limiting illnesses asking them to sign the forms, while a care provider across Somerset, Derbyshire and East Sussex was contacted by GPs who informed them that those they support, who have learning disabilities and other complex needs, should all be DNR. This reinforces quite how dangerous the devaluing of lives is as the pandemic essentially saw choices being made as to who ought to be protected and why.
The same could be seen across hospitals, with ventilator use becoming heavily restricted. Those who have spent decades relying on ventilators - such as those within Bristol University’s study, who have Duchenne muscular dystrophy - found themselves arguing that their likely shorter lives were still worth living. Limited resources once again posited less abled people as a burden, leading disability activist Alice Wong to write: ‘Were I to contract coronavirus, I imagine a doctor might read my chart, look at me, and think I’m a waste of their efforts and precious resources that never should have been in shortage to begin with. He might even take my ventilator for other patients who have a better shot at survival than me.’’
Even public opinion has proved deeply concerning - there has been a notable rise in anti-lockdown sentiment that is rooted in ableist logic under the guise of protecting ‘personal freedoms’. Anti-lockdown protesters have implied that those who are deemed healthy ought to be able to resume their lives as normal, leaving those who are immunocompromised or at greatest risk, such as the elderly, to shield indefinitely. In direct contrast to a collectivist approach - one which values all lives and recognises that sacrifices must be made by all as opposed to leaving only the vulnerable to bear the repercussions - a hierarchy has been firmly established.
This entrenched ableism inevitably boils down to how human lives are valued under both neoliberalism and capitalism. The disability rights movement has long argued that valuing human worth on productivity immediately casts those who are less abled as economic burdens and as leading less worthwhile lives. Bristol University’s research indicates that, throughout the pandemic, we have witnessed how human worth is ‘allocated and denied according to ableist notions of contribution’. From the prioritisation of ventilator use, the issuing of DNR forms, and the overall dehumanisation of the less abled, immunocompromised and elderly, this crisis has reinforced the dangers of neoliberalism’s preoccupation with ‘productivity’ to measure human worth.
From here, we must advocate for what Difference North East describes as a ‘better normal’. This means demanding better access and inclusion for disabled people, ensuring their rights are protected both during this crisis and beyond. First and foremost, this starts with bringing a resolute end to the devaluing and abandoning of disabled people and those with underlying health conditions - something we have seen consistently throughout the pandemic.
Holly Barrow is a writer for the Immigration Advice Service - an organisation of UK immigration lawyers providing legal advice on UK visas, citizenship, settlement and more