Should blind women be allowed axes?

The words, ‘Should blind women be allowed axes?’ are in bold black text, overlaying a semi-transparent white coloured strip positioned centrally. This strip sits over a photo of the lower face and upper body of a Viking-looking woman, with ferns attached to her around her collar, like jewellery and small tattoos on her arms. She’s holding an axe with leather binding diagonally across her chest like she knows how to use it. From the bottom of the image, a bluey purple ombre effect becomes less opaque near the top of the image.

I once went into a branch of a well-known DIY store to buy an axe. How many of you immediately asked, “What does she need an axe for?”; I'll give you three guesses. 

Axes were openly displayed in the shop, available to customers over the age of 18 who did not show signs of being under the influence of drugs or alcohol. I met all these criteria. Even so, when I got to the counter, a manager had to be called over to decide whether they could sell me my hatchet. We will see what they concluded later. 

So many other disabled people have similar stories of decisions and assumptions being made by people who, with no lived or professional experience, think they know best. This ranges from wheelchair users being literally moved out of the way, to restaurants providing cups with lids and straws without asking because they have decided somebody may have difficulty gripping things and drinking. It could be argued that it is good that society is proactively meeting the needs of disabled people. The examples of boundaries being crossed are just unfortunate casualties of progress. The issue for me, however, is communication. Assumption about the otherness of disability does not suggest that society has incorporated and welcomed us in the way the Social Model promotes. 

When considering the rights and independence of disabled people, we do have to think about issues of safety. For most sighted people, the idea of using an axe with their eyes shut is an inconceivable departure from common sense. The issue in my case is that the shop staff did not think about how I live the rest of my life. Crossing roads with your eyes shut now that electric buses are so dangerously quiet is also an inconceivable departure from common sense, but nobody is doing anything about that. I don’t have a choice about handling hot pots and pans, crossing roads, and even using axes with my eyes shut; so, I either bow to common sense or I get on and live my life. In the case of my axe, I am able to give informed consent to the risks I take. 

But what about the consequences? What about when capacity to consent is not so clear? I once heard about a wheelchair user with poor mental health. They expressed the intention to end their lives. Their carers began locking doors so they could not get out of their house and putting any harmful items or substances in their house up on shelves out of their reach. Surely this is a sensible precaution? Risk mitigation is everybody’s responsibility, after all. The disabled person did not think so. They pointed out that their disability was used as a way of mitigating risks, rather than an extra axis of vulnerability. They pointed out that, had they not been a wheelchair user, they would have been free to take whatever action was within their means. 

Many of us will have similar stories of our disabilities being exploited, albeit with perhaps less significant consequences at stake. The classic misuse of blue badges springs immediately to mind, as well as the more insidious financial abuse when benefits are withheld by family members. In a more light-hearted example, my Mum used to make me wrap my own Christmas presents sometimes because she knew I could not read the boxes to learn what was inside. Maybe this is why I now feel compelled to buy axes? 

So, you have shown that the issues of risk, informed consent and self-determination for disabled people are not as straightforward as they may seem to some people. You have deliberately chosen not to give an opinion on the moral philosophy and social responsibility of protecting vulnerable people with limited capacity to make safe decisions, whilst still upholding their rights to dignity and self-determination. But what about your axe?

You will all no doubt be delighted to hear that the manager and the checkout staff member failed to invent a good reason to withhold axes from blind women during their muttered debate. I completed my transaction and my axe and I went on to have several happy adventures together. It worked out for the staff that time. The scars I have are hardly noticeable these days. Oh, and have you worked out what I wanted the axe for yet? If it took more than one guess, that says far more about you than me. 

Written by Natalie, an Equal Lives staff member