Here I must introduce you to the concept of "inspiration porn" — the tendency of abled-bodied people to view disabled folk as their own inspiration to rise above challenges. A quick scroll through Facebook reveals countless videos and posts about people who have "overcome" their difficulties. Look at this cute little girl running around with her purple sparkly prosthetic leg! How amazing and inspirational is this young actor with Down’s syndrome? Wow, this girl in a wheelchair was elected prom queen! The implication is clear, if not explicitly stated in the captions: "If disabled people can do it, what’s your excuse?".
Australian disability activist Stella Young coined the term "inspiration porn" in her 2014 TedX talk to describe this kind of messaging around disability. Young intentionally included the word "porn" in the phrase to underscore the off-putting nature of this objectification.
Disabled actress Amelia Cavallo elaborated on Young’s description, adding that inspiration porn imagery is "the visualisation of disabled people overcoming what seem like broken and substandard bodies, sensory and cognitive make-ups" to make "the non-disabled public feel good about their unbroken, able bodies, senses, and cognition".
Viewing disabled or chronically ill people with undue sentimentality or pity, and framing their achievements — or very existence — as an uplifting moral lesson may be well-intentioned, but it can also be deeply exploitative, objectifying and just plain embarrassing for the disabled person. It sends the message that you have lowered expectations for disabled people from the start.
To quote Carol Glazer, president of the National Organisation on Disability, "the whole concept refers to the fact that most able-bodied people think of disability as such an unspeakable condition that you can only think about it in euphemism". Most people with disabilities — myself included — think of ourselves as normal people, who may or may not need certain adaptations, modifications and assistive technologies to live and thrive. There’s nothing unspeakable or inherently inspirational about our disabled lives.
Having an "invisible illness", however, means that my disability is not so easily read on my face or body. For the most part, I look able-bodied and therefore am not usually the target of explicit inspiration porn, unlike amputees or wheelchair users. But even in my limited experience, I have found that there’s something profoundly exhausting about being told that one is "inspiring" for simply getting on with things; for trying my hardest to be a good friend, carer, employee, even though ME/CFS and long Covid have rendered me a shell of my former self.
The steady accumulation of such well-meaning sentiments can weigh upon the shoulders of disabled people, contributing to a single, limited narrative — that disabled people are, first and foremost, "inspirational". If they are not "inspirational" — if they are outspoken about flaws in the healthcare system, underfunding of research, or institutionalised ableism — they are unworthy, unheroic and profoundly disappointing.
Inspiration porn is also infantilising, perpetuating cute and patronising narratives about disabled people. It allows the viewer to wallow briefly in a warm, fuzzy feeling of sentimentality, much like that evoked by watching a video of a puppy taking his wobbly first steps.
Moreover, inspiration porn assumes the disabled person cannot speak for themselves. Most media stories about disabled people are told from the point of view of able-bodied observers, emphasising the "selflessness" of non-disabled people who help push people’s wheelchairs up hills, deign to hire a kid with Down’s syndrome or invite a disabled classmate to the prom.
I’ve also noticed that the wide majority of media falling under the banner of "inspiration porn" is limited in its scope, overwhelmingly depicting smiling, straight-sized, conventionally-attractive white people in wheelchairs or with state-of-the-art prosthetics, accompanied by cloying and sentimental slogans about the value of hard work and a positive mental attitude.
This, of course, speaks to a wider issue about the media’s representation of disability as a whole. In New Zealand, disabled people are more likely to have lower incomes than non-disabled people. Twenty-six percent of the Maori population identify as disabled, compared with 24% of the total New Zealand population. Disabled children are less likely to do social things, such as playing in a sports team.
Disabled people aren’t always white, wealthy, friendly and happy to help make you feel better about yourself. The disabled community is multifaceted and intersectional and it does not exist to be marvelled at by able-bodied people who simply cannot be bothered to challenge inaccessibility and ableism in their myriad forms, from the workplace to public transport.
Inspiration porn might be well-intended but the consequences are serious. The constant stream of memes and stories of individual courage, determination and perseverance in the face of adversity and oppression distract from the profound injustice and systemic failures suffered by disabled people that might otherwise be fixed if properly recognised and addressed.
■ Jean Balchin, a former English student at the University of Otago, is studying at Oxford University after being awarded a Rhodes Scholarship.
