Rudolph is ableist
Why Rudolph is ableist and pro-capitalist propaganda: a review of Empire of Normality by Robert Chapman
context note: I live and work in the United States, which informs my perspective on these topics
I recently read a book called Empire of Normality which challenged me to confront some internalized ableism and capitalist values.
The premise of the book is that capitalism defines “value” based on the ability to generate wealth. Disability is a measure of how much or how little someone can participate in activities that are measurable and valued by those with capital. As a culture, the history of our relationship with neurodiversity and inclusion is deeply tied to our capitalist roots.
The part that stuck with me most was this: capitalism celebrates flavors of neurodiversity that it can take advantage of, while refusing to support or value those it can’t.
I used to find the idea of “unlocking autistic superpowers” that someone can leverage into a high-paying career, or prioritizing accommodations that promote productivity in the workplace compelling, because of how they can allow neurodivergent people (or otherwise disabled people) to survive and sometimes even thrive under the system of capitalism. And I acknowledge the value of these pursuits, because we've got the system we've got, and real people have to live with it. I'm never going to disagree with the goal of getting people more resources or giving them more tools to make the best of an imperfect world.
But more and more, and especially after reading Empire of Normality, I'm realizing that focusing my therapeutic and advocacy work on getting people the resources they need to succeed under capitalism is missing the whole point. Robert Chapman suggests that offering tools for increasing the productivity of neurodiverse people, such as accommodations or organizational systems to those with power is bad for individuals, because it makes them into a commodity to be exploited.
I still believe in putting accommodations, supports, and tools in the hands of neurodivergent folks. I think people should have the agency and the resources to decide how they want to participate (or not) in capitalism. And for people who are struggling to make ends meet or live a meaningful life due to financial constraints, these tools can make a huge difference. But I'm a lot more thoughtful about why I see things like "getting a stable job" or "living independently" as therapeutic goals, and what internalized values and biases are driving those goals. I'm also committed to offering alternatives to these goals while acknowledging the realities of what it means to have to exist in an economic and societal context that unfairly privileges some while disabling others.
This all brings me to my seasonal point: the story of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer is ableist and pro-capitalist propaganda. It centers around Rudolph, a young reindeer with a physical difference that is belittled and disabled by his society. He's denied group membership, career opportunities, access to hobbies, and told that his differences make him inherently less valuable and less lovable. It isn't until that society recognizes that his difference is of value to them that they begin to accept and support him. We're meant to celebrate this because he's proven his worth and earned the approval of his peers. If I'd been Rudolph's therapist a few years ago, I might have helped him to seek out accommodations to help him fit in more easily, or show others how valuable his unique skills were. Maybe I'd encourage him to take a job as a lighthouse keeper, or developing photographs in a darkroom.
But Rudolph's value goes far beyond what job he is able to have or how others see him. It is inherent to him and does not change if he gets a pay cut, or laid off, or if he is injured and unable to work for a time, or if he decides he is sick of offering his resources to folks who don't recognize his worth outside of what he gives to them.
My relationship with diversity and disability has transformed a lot over the years. It's gone from a naive attempt to value people in spite of their differences to a desire to value people because of their differences, by recognizing what they are able to accomplish by leveraging those differences. Now I'm trying to embrace the idea that all people have value regardless of abilities or differences, and that I don't have to be able to understand or measure that value for it to exist. Embracing neurodiversity only when it provides "marketable skills" isn't the same thing as celebrating diversity or supporting disability justice--it's just gently shifting our definition of who has value without including anyone who don't fit those criteria.
If Rudolph was a client today, I'd remind him that he doesn't have to conform or meet any external expectations of productivity or participation in society to have worth. I'd help him work towards his goals and pursue his interests and values, whether that meant finding accommodations or leveraging his differences or leaving his peers behind and seeking out a new social group that can appreciate him as he is. It's not my job as a therapist to make people productive, or employed. It's my job to help people self-actualize, live as their authentic selves, and feel fulfilled with their lives.
I might have more to say in the future about ecological, neurological, cultural, philosophical diversity and how they enrich the world, but those thoughts are still cooking and it'll take some time to translate them into words. But for now, I hope Rudolph is out there, shining his light just for himself and anyone with the wisdom to appreciate it.
P.S. Am I taking this story way too seriously and sucking the fun out of Christmas? Perhaps. But I thought it was a fun way to talk about a serious topic, and had a good time writing out my thoughts. Feel free to continue singing along at the top of your lungs with all the joy you can muster--"He'll go down in historyyyyy"