The “haven” is actually a campus of close to two dozen buildings on 200 acres outside Laurel, Maryland. At the peak of its 66-year history, it held some 1,300 D.C. residents with intellectual and developmental disabilities. In 1976, a group of parents sued the city over conditions there. Two years later, a federal judge ordered it closed. In 1991, it finally did. Today it stands abandoned and overgrown.
But even though D.C. was one of the first places in the country to completely abandon the use of institutions for people with developmental disabilities, the broader process of integration has been much slower. D.C. residents with disabilities may no longer live in segregated and isolated facilities like Forest Haven, but they also don’t enjoy some of the same chances and choices — especially in employment — as everyone else.
And while it has been 25 years since Forest Haven closed, the 1976 lawsuit that led to its closure remains in litigation. In February, the lawsuit entered its 40th year, evidence of the long and bumpy road D.C. has traveled in pushing to integrate people with disabilities.
Can this switch in functional organization also happen in healthy people with normal vision? To investigate this, Katarzyna Siuda-Krzywicka, Łukasz Bola and co-workers taught a group of healthy, sighted people to read Braille by touch, and monitored the changes in brain activity that this caused using a technique called functional magnetic resonance imaging. According to textbooks, tactile reading should engage the tactile cortex. Yet, the experiment revealed that the brain activity critical for reading Braille by touch did not occur in the volunteers’ tactile cortex, but in their visual cortex.
[sips his coffee]
[sips more coffee][looks at coffee, shrugs, and drinks the entire cup in one go]
[notices you’re back]
Oh! Excuse me.
Well, how was that? I bet you missed out on a lot of information, unless you’re some kind of whiz lip-reader.
You got just a little taste of what a deaf person faces when wanting to watch a video online. Yet if you’re hearing, you can go back and watch that with the sound on, so it’s not exactly the same.
So many videos online, and so much is either not captioned or uses these auto-generated captions that rarely seem to work well. You know how people joke around about auto-correct on our phones? That’s what auto-generated captions often seem to be like. Here’s an example. I blurred the background because I don’t want to play a blame game here:
First of all, to everyone who thinks that all men with Down syndrome are sterile – wrong!Exactly how often men with Down syndrome are sterile is unknown, but men with Down syndrome can – and have – fathered children before.
Moving on let’s talk about a few things that the movie makes very clear:
There was an article in the Washington Post recently about parents of a young man with Down syndrome who “saw his potential.” The parents in the article sound fantastic, but the question remained: would a family of less financial means be able to do the same thing? Would other parents have had the health care or been able to afford to take their child to a top foot specialist? Would they be able to get their son custom-designed orthotics every year? What about the annual checkups at Duke?
My point is that the parents in this particular case saw the potential in their son and had the resources to help him fulfill it. But many families don’t have that.
- Withdrawing medical treatment may lead to death, but that isn't the intent. Indeed, the point is to stop an unwanted bodily intrusion, not to kill. As Paul Ramsey put it, that is treating the "patient as a person."
- With the exception of a feeding tube, such deaths are uncertain. Sometimes -- if unexpectedly -- people live. For example, Karen Ann Quinlan lived about ten years after her respirator was removed.
- Death is certain in euthanasia and assisted suicide.
- When medical treatment is withdrawn or withheld on request, if it comes, the death is natural.
- In euthanasia and assisted suicide, death is unnatural, e.g., a result of homicide or suicide.
- In contrast to removing unwanted treatment, the intent of assisted suicide and euthanasia is to kill.
Not Dead Yet sees clearly that assisted suicide and euthanasia discriminate invidiously against people with disabilities because they treat them as a disposable caste whose lives are not worth saving if they become suicidal.
The vital distinction between "allowing to die" and "making dead" through homicidal or suicidal means was recognized 9-0 by the United States Supreme Court in the 1997 decision Vacco v. Quill :
[A] physician who withdraws, or honors a patient's refusal to begin, life sustaining medical treatment purposefully intends, or may so intend, only to respect his patient's wishes to cease doing useless and futile or degrading things to the patient when the patient no longer stands to benefit from them. ...
A doctor who assists a suicide, however, "must necessarily and indubitably, intend primarily that the patient be made dead." Similarly, a patient who commits suicide with a doctor's aid has the specific intent to end his or her own life, while a patient who refuses or discontinues treatment might not ...[and, indeed] may instead "fervently wish to live, but to do so free of unwanted medical technology, surgery, or drugs." [Citations omitted.]
So step forward Norman Lamb MP, former Minister for Care and Support, in his advocacy whilst minister of moving support for people with learning difficulties away from institutional hospital settings in the light of the horrendous abuse perpetrated at Winterbourne View. What I particularly liked was the insight in the policy that it was the institutionalised nature of support that created the environment in which abuse could flourish. This is of course what activists for independent living and disability rights have been saying for decades.
It is sad though to see in 2016 the same sort of indifference to empowering models of support that caused disabled people to take up the fight against the “care” system over 40 years ago. Sir, we would be keen to compare notes with you about how to achieve the cultural change necessary, and which has been achieved in some parts of the country.
The clamour of disability activists for “choice and control” over the state support we receive is not just a nice to have, but to remove power from professionals and civil servants who can make decisions contrary to our interests, and hence improve our security and well-being.
The next Winterbourne View – and there will be one – may not be what these professionals intend by operating their unwanted policies of institutional incarceration. But now that they have been told to do otherwise, such abuse cannot be other than on their heads. And the very willingness of the system to institutionalise these disabled people is itself a signal to the abusers that society does not care as much as it should, and offers an unconscious green light for abuse.