Challenging Ableism Across Species
What Sunaura Taylor’s Analysis Means for Designers
If animal and disability oppression are entangled, might not that mean their paths of liberation are entangled as well?
— Sunaura Taylor
Most of us don’t think twice when, making our way down the sidewalk, we see a curb cut going down to the street. In the year 1948, however, not a single one existed. The first curb cut was made on the campus of the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign in 1949. Dr. Timothy Nugent, at that time a professor of rehabilitation education, advocated for it. He would go on to be called the “Father of Accessibility” for his work in founding what is today Universal Design.
According to critical disability theory, disability is not, as the medical model asserts, an attribute of any human body. Disability is imposed on bodies by physical, cultural, economic, and political environments. The aim of Universal Design is to make the human-made world accessible to people with all kinds of abilities.
Universal Design stands in opposition to a system of oppression called “ableism.” Like sexism and racism, ableism constructs a social category based on perceived biological difference and uses it to justify the exploitation and exclusion of certain populations.
Architects of culture, the built environment, and goods and services often design for users within a narrow range of mental and physical ability. Those who fall outside that range are excluded from accessing those resources. Sometimes this is intentional, driven by profit or prejudice. Sometimes it’s by accident. Either way, the outcome is the same.
In her book, Beasts of Burden: Animal and Disability Liberation, artist, writer, and activist Sunaura Taylor makes a powerful observation: ableism impacts humans and nonhumans alike. The everyday exploitation, slaughter, and displacement of animals rests on the observation that their bodies lack certain abilities. Their brains lack a degree of executive functioning. Their facial expressions lack readily discernible emotion. They’re incapable of communicating in human languages. We devalue them, in other words, for their inability to be human.
In the same way ableism does not discriminate among species in our culture, neither should universal design in a culture which opposes ableism. So, what would universal design look like if it lived up to its name? To begin with, it would represent the interests of all stakeholders in the design process. Every body which uses the space regardless of age, race, sex, gender, sexual orientation, worldview, ability or species would be accommodated.
This doesn’t mean, of course, that the space will necessarily maximize the health, well-being, and interests of each kind of body equally. Although a worthy ideal, it is, unfortunately, only that. In reality, where we share common space, trade offs and compromises are inevitable. The point is that each voice is heard equally and that designers arrive at the most inclusive option.
Sweetwater Spectrum in Sonoma County, California, is an example of universal design that includes other species. A housing community for people with autism, the design was optimized to embrace the unique ways they experience the world. As sensory stimulation is often heightened, the space utilizes subdued colors, familiar forms, indirect lighting, and ultra-quiet HVAC systems for heating and cooling. The overall atmosphere is serene. Because social engagement can be overwhelming, the space utilizes an “experiential hierarchy” in its residential layout. Each person’s private room opens first to a residential wing with two bedrooms, then to the entire house with four bedrooms, then to the immediate neighborhood with two homes, then to the larger community center and commons. This allows for a gradual transition from private to highly social environments. Furthermore, transition points between each type of space are clearly defined by thresholds such as doorways and half walls. The designers also made sure that adjacent to every large gathering space is a smaller nook. This allows residents to “preview and retreat” from social activity if need be. To accommodate the need for predictability, the architecture throughout the entire community is self-consistent.
In addition to honoring the experience of its human users, the architects made the project ecologically friendly as well. They achieved zero net energy using passive solar energy, solar panels, solar tube skylights, low-reflective “cool roofs,” trellises, and hyper-efficient windows and light fixtures. Water is conserved using low-flow plumbing fixtures, permeable paving, drought-tolerant plants, and bioswales to capture rainwater. At the center of the community is an organic garden and orchard which, aside from nourishing human residents, provide habitat for local wildlife. While it may not perfectly maximize the well-being of every human and nonhuman user, Sweetwater Spectrum is moving in the right direction.
Another example of ecocentric universal design is the Green Loop in Portland, Oregon, which is currently under construction. The Green Loop will be a six mile linear park which makes a loop through the inner city. It will consist of multiple paths for walking, cycling, and mobility devices alongside trees and green spaces in which to sit and gather. The Green Loop therefore honors the experience of human users with a variety of mobility needs in addition to more-than-human users of trees and green spaces.
The Green Loop will serve, albeit indirectly, as a kind of wildlife corridor. Wildlife corridors are seen around the world as a means of connecting natural spaces so that wildlife can move safely between them. The first one I saw was in British Columbia, Canada. Stretching over the highway, it looked at first like a typical bridge. Upon driving closer, however, I noticed there was no road going over it, only trees, shrubs, and grasses. This corridor enabled bears, elk, deer, and other animals to cross the highway without the risk of being killed by cars. In Portland, the Green Loop will allow birds, squirrels, and other urban animals to move through the city in much the same way.
There are many other examples of universal design that challenges ableism across species, whether implicitly or explicitly. But the union of disability studies and critical animal studies is a relatively recent phenomenon. We can only hope that as this union deepens and designers grapple with Taylor’s analysis, we will see more conscious recognition, in theory and in practice, that “universal” means all life, not just human.
