The "Social Model" of disability states loosely that the major
reason that differences between people are disabilities is that
society is set up so that one point on the scale of human variation
(colloquially and unhelpfully called "normal") is privileged by the
way society is set up, and others aren't.
There has been a lot written elsewhere about the (usually
relatively small) adjustments that could be made to fix current
society so that particular variations weren't disabilities or were
less severe.
It was created in contrast to the commonly-used "Medical
Model" which stated that the variation itself was the problem (which
at its worst justified eugenics, and at its best still did nothing
about the underlying social problems). Only some variations are considered a medical problem, of course, and which those are changes from time to time (the history of the inclusion of homosexuality in the various revisions of the DSM, for example).
This post is about the Social Model of non-disability, or at least
some examples of it. Human variation that could be a disability, if it
wasn't for the fact that our society (well, my society, for these
examples) is set up so that it makes virtually no difference.
The hypothetical societies below do of course also have effects on
things that are currently disabilities - making some more disabling
and some less disabling. I've based the non-disabilities for both from
variations that I personally have that aren't disabling in my current
society - you might the same variation but find it to be noticeably
disabling in your current society: if so, I'm failing to recognise
some element of my class or national privilege that makes it that
way.
Sense of smell
It's a fair indication of how little UK society actually requires a
sense of smell that there isn't a common word or phrase for having a
below-average one. "Partially-nosed"? "Hard-of-smelling"? Anyway, my
sense of smell is well below average, as far as I can tell - even if I
don't have a blocked nose, I can't smell much.
The "Medical Model" symptoms of this are about what you'd expect -
it takes a higher concentration of a smell in the air before I notice
it, and similarly for tastes.
The actual effects in this society are relatively small. Society is
just set up so that a sense of smell is very rarely
required. Sometimes the only warning of a gas leak is the smell, but I
think that's the only case where a message is intentionally conveyed
only through smell, it's a very strong-smelling chemical that's been
chosen because of that, and it's not a situation where in general an
alternative warning can be given.
Experience means that I can cook food that's good to eat without
more than the usual problems. When I'm cooking just for myself, I do
put more spices in than most people would consider sensible, though.
Of course, society could be set up to be more difficult for people
with a below-average sense of smell. It's such an under-used sense
currently that I'm having trouble thinking of examples, though - smell
trails ("follow lemon for the southbound line") are possible, as is
more explicit use of odours to set the tone of art or speeches (like
background music is currently used).
Reading while travelling
I don't particularly like travelling in general, but one thing that
makes it particularly unpleasant is that I can't focus and concentrate
on nearby objects for very long while doing so without getting
headaches and nausea sufficiently strong to make further concentration
impossible for several minutes or more.
So, I can't read, or do puzzles, or look at maps, while in a moving
vehicle. Fortunately, society is again set up that this isn't that
necessary. There are jobs where working on a laptop - or in previous
times, pen and paper - while travelling up and down the country on a
train is a major part of the job. There aren't, however, that many -
it's a sufficiently rare requirement that people almost certainly can
avoid jobs that need it.
Now imagine that the prevailing architectural paradigm of the last
few centuries had not been "buildings of varying sizes, on the ground,
with four walls and a roof, in clusters" but "individual small rooms,
raised off the ground on stilts to various heights, separated by some
distance and connected by walkways, ramps, and in more modern times,
miniature railways". It has lots of advantages - much more garden
space, the land below can be used for farming and keeping animals, and
doesn't need to be particularly flat to build on - enough that a
suggestion of "why not build houses" would be looked at oddly by
people used to this method.
Much more travel is needed, as a small village might now loosely
span several square miles: over rather than inside its local
farmland. The rail networks provide a convenient solution, though -
office train cabs with a built-in desk. Get in at the start of the
day, and set the destination for your first meeting. The network
operator (nowadays, this is mostly all computerised, with a few
supervisors, but thirty years ago there were points boxes each with
their own operator, and complex procedures to hand-off from one zone
to another) will set the points accordingly for you to make sure you
get there at the scheduled time. When you get there, your cab moves
onto a short circular meeting track, to be joined by the cabs of the
other attendees. Unoccupied projector cabs, whiteboard cabs, and so on
can be put onto the track as well, or in the fancier meeting-tracks, a
separate higher track so that they rotate at a different speed to the
meeting and you're never stuck with your back to the screen.
People like me, who can't work on the move, get stuck with a
low-status ground job (literally looked down upon), unless we're lucky
enough to get a job in one of the few stationary installations. Which,
since we spent our entire time in the class-tracks being ill, isn't
that likely.
Add in a social moral approval of movement, from the secularisation
of a nomadic ancestors' religion, and the ideas of having stationary
rather than moving meeting-tracks and class-tracks, and having
stopping points with nice views for office cabs, start to get
considered "special accommodations" that get in the way of most
people's enjoyment of a varied view through their working day, which
has been shown to be vital to creativity and efficiency.
The radical suggestion of building compact office complexes, where
you could just walk from place to place, is completely
rejected. They'd require far too many stilts to be stable, you
couldn't place enough windmills on top of something that big to power
it without them getting in the way of each other, it'd shade too much
ground surface, need lots of flat land, and you'd still have to travel
some way to get to it. They'll be suggesting we live in ground cities
like our primitive ancestors or foreigners next.
Other variations
So, what other variations, currently either having a neutral or
positive effect on your ease of living in this society, or only
causing very minor and extremely situational problems, have readers
experienced, and in what alternative societies would they be
considered (possibly severe, possibly medicalised) disabilities? Leave
your thoughts in the comments.