Why I Don’t Want to be Cured

Tempted to wave the magic wand and cure my disability? Well, maybe for a day.

Among the things that non-disabled people find the most difficult to understand are those campaigners who say that they do not want to be cured of their impairments. If anything, this claim is hardest to stomach for people on the political left, wedded as they often are to notions of public healthcare, scientific progress and psychological malleability.

We are often accused of being in denial. Surely, we are asked, if someone could wave a magic wand and all physical or mental quirks could be excised, anyone would be foolish not to take the opportunity. It is true that there are certainly days when I feel like that, but these are my bad days, when I would not regard myself as making my best decisions. The rest of the time, I accept who I am, because I have self-respect and, anyway, I have no choice.

This is the fundamental problem with the ‘magic wand’ approach. It creates a possibility that does not exist and is therefore rather meaningless, rather like wondering whether you would want to live for ever. Unfortunately, unlike in the search for eternal life, when it comes to ridding the world of disability, there is rather less scepticism about finding the philosopher’s stone.

In most cases, there is and is never likely to be a magic wand, a cure that is cheap, free of risk and, most importantly, genuinely works. In the case of autism, which is my impairment, there is not a single treatment that has withstood the rigours of scientific scrutiny and yet the quacks continue to peddle their wares, selling false hopes at the expense of self-acceptance. All doubt fades, so desperate are people for us to be gone.

Even when so-called ‘cures’ exist, they can be partial in their effects, resulting in highly ambivalent consequences. For example, cochlear implants do not allow profoundly deaf people to hear perfectly or to speak like everyone else. As a result, many who choose this option feel no less isolated from the hearing world than previously and yet may create distance between themselves and other deaf people, who use less integrationist solutions such as sign language.

Similarly, those who are treated for facial disfigurements rarely end up looking like Joe Average but rather like people who have had bad plastic surgery, perhaps not surprisingly because that is often exactly the case. Of course, there is always a small risk of death or serious injury in any such surgery but, in the case of conjoined twins, an operation to separate them can frequently be fatal. Nevertheless, this fact does not prevent commentators from assuming that it must always be the necessary approach.

For the last century and a half, a central feature of the history of medicine has been its unremitting optimism about its ability to solve social problems, buoyed by the undoubted success of the germ theory of disease. However, no recent innovation can compare with the elimination of smallpox and the relative control of cholera and tuberculosis. Indeed, the greatest discoveries, such as the role of insulin in diabetes, have allowed people with impairments to live longer, when before they would have perished.

Medicine, whether with stem cells, genetic engineering, or psychotherapy, is not going to make us go away and is a distraction from the vital task of finding social and political solutions, based upon rights and access to jobs and services. But if there really was a magic wand, I know what I would do. I would cure myself for one day, just to see what it was like to be normal, knowing that I could use the same magic wand to return myself to the real me afterwards.

As a child, I was very successful in my schoolwork but found it difficult to make friends. I went to Cambridge University but dropped out after a year due to severe depression and spent most of the next year in a therapeutic community, before returning to Cambridge to complete my degree. I first identified myself as autistic in 1999 while I was studying psychology in London but I was not officially diagnosed until 2004 because of a year travelling in Australia and a great deal of NHS bureaucracy. I spent four years working for the BBC as a question writer for the Weakest Link but I am now studying law with the intention of training to be a solicitor. My hobbies include online poker and korfball, and I will be running the London Marathon in 2007. I now have many friends and I am rarely depressed but I remain single.
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Autumn Statement 2015: George Osborne abandons his target

How will George Osborne close the deficit after his U-Turns? Answer: he won't, of course. 

“Good governments U-Turn, and U-Turn frequently.” That’s Andrew Adonis’ maxim, and George Osborne borrowed heavily from him today, delivering two big U-Turns, on tax credits and on police funding. There will be no cuts to tax credits or to the police.

The Office for Budget Responsibility estimates that, in total, the government gave away £6.2 billion next year, more than half of which is the reverse to tax credits.

Osborne claims that he will still deliver his planned £12bn reduction in welfare. But, as I’ve written before, without cutting tax credits, it’s difficult to see how you can get £12bn out of the welfare bill. Here’s the OBR’s chart of welfare spending:

The government has already promised to protect child benefit and pension spending – in fact, it actually increased pensioner spending today. So all that’s left is tax credits. If the government is not going to cut them, where’s the £12bn come from?

A bit of clever accounting today got Osborne out of his hole. The Universal Credit, once it comes in in full, will replace tax credits anyway, allowing him to describe his U-Turn as a delay, not a full retreat. But the reality – as the Treasury has admitted privately for some time – is that the Universal Credit will never be wholly implemented. The pilot schemes – one of which, in Hammersmith, I have visited myself – are little more than Potemkin set-ups. Iain Duncan Smith’s Universal Credit will never be rolled out in full. The savings from switching from tax credits to Universal Credit will never materialise.

The £12bn is smaller, too, than it was this time last week. Instead of cutting £12bn from the welfare budget by 2017-8, the government will instead cut £12bn by the end of the parliament – a much smaller task.

That’s not to say that the cuts to departmental spending and welfare will be painless – far from it. Employment Support Allowance – what used to be called incapacity benefit and severe disablement benefit – will be cut down to the level of Jobseekers’ Allowance, while the government will erect further hurdles to claimants. Cuts to departmental spending will mean a further reduction in the numbers of public sector workers.  But it will be some way short of the reductions in welfare spending required to hit Osborne’s deficit reduction timetable.

So, where’s the money coming from? The answer is nowhere. What we'll instead get is five more years of the same: increasing household debt, austerity largely concentrated on the poorest, and yet more borrowing. As the last five years proved, the Conservatives don’t need to close the deficit to be re-elected. In fact, it may be that having the need to “finish the job” as a stick to beat Labour with actually helped the Tories in May. They have neither an economic imperative nor a political one to close the deficit. 

Stephen Bush is editor of the Staggers, the New Statesman’s political blog.