The Hidden Ableism in "Good Intentions"

Part of a series exploring disability, dignity, and the stories society tells about disabled lives

Many people want to support disabled people, but worry about doing the wrong thing.

The truth is that some of the most common forms of ableism come from people who genuinely mean well.

Ableism isn’t always obvious. Sometimes it is — mocking a disabled person, using a slur, or hearing someone say they’d rather die than have to use a wheelchair.

But more often it’s subtle. It can come from people who mean well and genuinely believe they’re helping.

The problem is that good intentions don’t always translate into respect for a disabled person’s autonomy.

Here are two common ways well-intentioned ableism shows up.

“Let Me Help”

Judging from the number of disabled people I’ve heard talk about this, there are a lot of very kind people in the world who dislike seeing others struggle. When they notice someone having difficulty, they want to step in and help.

That instinct is admirable.

But sometimes help isn’t actually needed. And even when it is, it may not be wanted.

Always ask before helping. And if the person declines, respect that.

When people jump in without asking — or ignore a “no” — they’re making assumptions that may be wrong. More importantly, they’re taking away the disabled person’s right to decide what happens to their own body.

This can happen in many ways.

It might seem kind to push someone’s wheelchair so they don’t have to propel themselves. To grab someone’s arm while they’re walking. To transfer them from one piece of furniture to another. Or to speak for someone who struggles with communication.

But physical assistance without permission can be deeply uncomfortable — and sometimes even dangerous.

Once, after I tripped and fell on a sidewalk, a stranger rushed over to help. He grabbed my stronger arm to pull me up, but because of how he held it, he twisted it painfully behind my back as I stood.

I had to swear at him to get him to let go.

Wheelchair users often describe a similar feeling when someone starts pushing their chair without warning. Suddenly, you’re moving somewhere you didn’t choose, with no control over where you’re going.

Being treated like a piece of furniture instead of a person feels awful, as does hearing someone speak for you instead of letting you try to communicate for yourself.

Help that ignores consent sends a message, whether it’s intended or not:

I’m going to help, and I don’t care how you feel about it.

“I Know Better Than You”

There are times when people voluntarily give others decision-making power over their lives.

Someone entering addiction treatment, for example, may accept a structured environment where substances aren’t available, and others enforce those rules.

Historically, many disabled people were placed in institutions where they had almost no control over their own lives.

But they didn’t make that choice.

Most of those institutions are gone now. Yet the mindset that disabled people need their lives managed hasn’t completely disappeared.

Disabled people still encounter well-intentioned attempts to override their personal choices — from family members, caregivers, and sometimes even medical systems.

It can be complicated. Loved ones often feel a powerful instinct to protect disabled people in a world that can still be dangerous.

And in some cases, particularly for people with intellectual disabilities, questions about decision-making capacity can be genuinely complex. But it’s important that concern not become control.

Disabled people don’t need their lives managed. We need access to information, support, and the freedom to make our own decisions.

Sometimes, like everyone else, we’ll make bad ones, but we have that right.

Just as non-disabled people do.

Final Thought

Disabled people don’t need autonomy taken away in the name of kindness.

We need our choices respected.

If you’re interested in expanding the way we think about disability, autonomy, and what meaningful support really looks like, consider visiting my Substack for more articles, or contacting me to start a discussion.